A mother, with no baby to hold

It's a busy day on the blog today, as I really wanted to write this post too. It's altogether more personal in nature, and I hope that's ok with you. In a post topic that was suggested by Altitude Summit, bloggers have been asked to write about the day they were made a mother. It's a wonderful contest that is aiming to raise awareness of the charity, Every Mother Counts. A US charity, EMC exists to address the barriers to maternal health around the world. With projects in countries such as Haiti, Uganda and Malawi, their work is so important.

So, onto my response to the topic...

B and I have been married for nearly four years... hurrah for our nearly-anniversary! Our wedding day was one filled with smiles, nerves {doing the first dance terrified me} and joy at what was ahead of us. I was whisked off to the sunny Seychelles, where we listed our dreams, goals and vision for our family. I'm pretty sure B still has those lists on his phone.

For me, having children was a given. I'm not sure I was ever a typical girl who dreamt of walking up the aisle and dancing around in white dress {although it was very fun}, but I had always been so sure that I wanted to be a mum. So, needless to say - having a family was pretty high up on our list!

Fast forward, four years from that blissful {and a bit blustery} June day, and I've been pregnant three times. But I am yet to hold a baby in my arms.

All that said, I still feel like a mum. I know everyone has a different concept of when motherhood begins, when a baby is really a baby - but for me, as soon as I saw the 'pregnant' sign pop up on the testing kit, I was a mum. Everything changed from that moment onwards. Before, I'd been so happy to be just me and B. To live each day as we wanted. But the minute I found out I was pregnant, I was so excited at the prospect of what was to come and of our future family. Our dreams were being fulfilled, and I couldn't wait to meet our little person. But, as happens with way more pregnancies than I'd ever imagined, I was suffering from an ectopic pregnancy. Not long afterwards, I was rushed in for surgery, where my heart was broken as the doctors 'fixed' me. Nothing really can prepare you for these moments. My life was saved, but a life was lost too. It's times like these that I am exceptionally grateful for the NHS, and for brilliant doctors and surgeons - ectopics can be so dangerous, and if untreated can lead to death.This is a scary reality for many who don't have access to the treatment available here in the West.

Since then, I've had two more ectopic pregnancies, and each time it knocks away a little more at my dream of being a mother. But, in these wavering moments, I rest on my hope and faith, that I am a mother. I might not get the chance to tuck in my three littles, but they did exist, even for the briefest of moments. I recently read the most moving account of one family and the loss of their little boy, from a cancerous brain tumour. I honestly can't imagine the grief of losing a little person, and their faith and hope in it all brought me to tears. One quote from the mother's sister really touched me:

"We might have lost him; but he’s not lost. God has him. God has us. He’s just holding us on different ends of eternity."

And, while a different situation entirely, this spoke to me and brought me such comfort. I am a mum - my babies are just holding a different end of eternity.

#Alt Summit believes every mother counts