Sometimes motherhood looks like sleeping with the little mermaid tail-shaped knitted blanket they gave you at Wyckoff hospital when you gave birth to an unviable but beautiful 22 week old baby girl. Sometimes it looks like blowing kisses to the plastic cube of ashes on the mantle that you still haven’t put in a permanent urn because every baby urn is tacky and undeserving of holding your child’s remains. Sometimes it looks like catatonically staring at the ceiling wishing it had gone another way.

Happy Mother’s Day to the loss moms 🫂