I remember the first night you lay beside me, cocooned within your hospital cot. The surge of love I felt overwhelmed my every emotion, alongside an incredible realisation that you were mine. As time has gone on, you’ve grown into a strong, creative, beautiful 7 year-old and I can’t wait to share your journey even further.
When I was 14, a crippling agony which accompanied my periods entered life and altered things for the next 18 years. I was even told there may not be a you in my life. This baffling dark cloud turned out to be a hideous illness called endometriosis; something that has as you know, left me in several precarious situations and brought with it complications. This seemed hard before I had you and T, but with you, the lack of control and rapid downward spiral into needing hospital treatment feels even more cruel.
I can’t bear the vicious and unrelenting amounts of time I have to be away from you. When I feel unwell, I don’t want you to struggle or lose out on anything. I’m frightened of letting you down and missing precious days.
My need to keep calm and present a positive viewpoint acts as an anchor, yet inside I’m screaming. Regardless, you are a bright ray, bringing joy to every day. Clearly, our relationship comprises so much more than illness, but I hate the fact my pain interferes at all.
Those difficult episodes are gradually becoming less now, as I’m hopefully on the road to a place called recovery. Together we’re walking towards the sunshine, skipping and holding hands.
I want to thank you for understanding, for shaping my life immeasurably and for making me who I am. Your heart is huge, and you inspire me every day. Above all else, I’m so happy you chose me to be your mama.
With all my love forever,
Artwork featured with this letter:
Artwork by Bonnie Doman
Artwork by Cheryl Rawlings