People see you with a few kids

 People see you with a few kids and assume it was easy.

They see the car seats lined up.
The chaos at the grocery store.
The matching pajamas at Christmas.

They don’t see the empty ultrasounds.
The due dates that came and went quietly.
The names you whispered but never got to say out loud for long.

They don’t know about the appointments.
The waiting rooms.
The “we’ll try again” conversations.

They don’t know who isn’t here.

They don’t know that some of us walk with ghosts while we hold living, breathing miracles in our arms.

That some babies made us mothers without ever making it home.

That some siblings exist in heaven so the ones here could exist in our arms.

It wasn’t easy.
It wasn’t guaranteed.
It wasn’t owed.

So when you see a mama with “a few kids,”
just know…

She may have fought for every single one.

And she may be carrying both gratitude and grief at the same time.

That’s a weight you can’t see.
But it’s holy.