How I feel 583 days after the death of my baby.Β 

 Up thinking about my baby like…

Lord, why do I let these demons chase me? They’re trying to make me blame myself for his demise, when I know it was your will Lord. Help me mend my heart I know it’s going to take some time but I’m willing to try.

 I need some peace of mind, some closure to ease my mind on. Nights like this when I can’t stop thinking about all the things that went wrong or how he would be today if he was still with me. Yea, I know he’s in my heart but I’m talking physically. 

My heart  yearns for his touch,  the touch of his urn is not enough. 

 I need to feel your hand grip my fingers and rub my hand on your gorgeous head. I miss those late nights at Children’s staring at you sleep then waking up at 5 am just to watch you open your eyes and cry . Those were my happiest moments, especially holding you. I had the whole world in my hands with you I didn’t need nothing.

All I want to do is go back to the time when you were  in my womb. Laying on my ribcage, remember how I was your favorite sleeping place.  

I miss you G3 & I love you more than you could ever imagine πŸ’™ 

You were the strongest person I’ve ever met! Extraordinary resilience with a powerful presence I am so proud to be your mama.

 I’m honored to have carried a warrior in my womb βœ¨πŸ‘ΆπŸ‘Š

Audrey Lorde Quote

​”Those of us who stand outside the circle of this society’s definition of acceptable women; those of us who have been forged in the crucibles of difference — those of us who are poor, who are lesbians, who are Black, who are older — know that survival is not an academic skill. It is learning how to take our differences and make them strengths. For the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house. They may allow us temporarily to beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change. And this fact is only threatening to those women who still define the master’s house as their only source of support.” -Audre Lorde  βœŠπŸ½βœŠπŸΎβœŠπŸΏ