Funny things, before each miscarriage, and any anytime I mentioned wanting children, I was told that I wouldn’t be a good mother.

I don’t play with matches.

I don’t run around with scissors.

I don’t push kids down on the playground.

I don’t bully.

I don’t spew hatred.

I haven’t been the best human being. I haven’t been the best to my body over the years. Oh, and obvously, I haven’t always had the best people around me, but who can say they are a perfect human being ready to be a parent?

Well, I wish I had that understanding when these lovely people in my life questioned whether I could be a good mom.

Okay, screw it, and with all the love I can muster up, screw them.

I actually believed it. I believed I couldn’t be a good mom.

And what fucking right did these people have?

BREATHE