My life has been such a struggle, from one milestone to another. I sometimes wonder for what have I struggled for. Then I think to my self, “happiness can not be that hard.” All I have ever wanted is a man who would love me unconditionally with whom I could start a family. Something I never had growing up. Even when my father lived with us he was never there for me and my family. Through the ups and downs with my bipolar disorder, my struggle with drug addiction, the birth of my first child, meeting the love of my life, and the tragic death of my son, my mother has always been there for me. You never dream in a million years of bearing your own child. I remember the look on my mother’s face the day my son died. As she had looked so many times before, all she wanted was to stop my pain and all I wanted was for my baby to not suffer. I thought, “Why God?” “After all the struggles I have been through, now you take my son.” “Why even give him to me to begin with?” I had so many irrational thoughts going on in my mind. I was so selfish and would have done anything to have my son back. I felt as if I deserved it, for the bad I have done in my life. I’m finally living right, I’m drug free, living a humble life with the man of my dreams, and now he’s playing, get you back. How can a loving God be so cruel? I really thought I had reached the lowest point I could in my life when I was addicted to drugs, but I was wrong. You never know what you have until it is gone. I wish I could smell his sweet smell once more, to hold him, to hear him cry out for me. As a mother you’re supposed to protect your child. I felt as if I had failed at being a mother. I remember right before he died I looked down into my arms, he lifted his tiny hand, whimpered, and as he took his last breath, I truly believe he was telling his father and me; “goodbye, be strong I’m going to a better place.” Something so tiny to have the strength to move his little hand like he did, and to cry out as if his lungs where truly developed, crushed me. At the time, I could not see what happiness I could possibly have after his death, but, as time goes by, I’ve found it. You never know what struggles in life you will endure, but God will not give you more than you can handle. I believe that losing Tristan gave me a new appreciation for life and how fast you can loose it. I have become a better mother, and I appreciate the little things my daughter does more than ever. I have found a greater desire in completing my education so that I can provide the kind of life I want for my family. I am enjoying the little things in life more than ever. Like seeing the sunrise in the morning, or watching a blue heron on a river bank. I finally believe in the true happiness of waking up every morning. I believe in happiness, my happiness.
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