We were asked to write about “acceptance” in my dbt class. The boys wrote about three lines. Most folks wrote half a page. I’ll show you what I wrote:
“I accepted the gift of a baby daughter
I accepted colic, that people with screwed up kids gave the most advice, and I accepted the funny looks I nursed my almost two year old.
I accepted the thrill that I could take my own life.
I accepted the thoughts I might kill my daughter and got help the next day.
I acceptede my diagnoses and subsequent time in the hospital.
I accepted the time away from my daughter
I would not accept being told I should not have another baby.
I would not accept being told that over and over.
I could not accept the baby boom that seemed to be happening everywhere around me.
I could not accept pregnant women weren’t showing off their bellies to hurt me.
I could not accept my dream of three rambunctious children fighting in the back seat of the car would not come true.
I came to accept my dreams were not going to come true.
I came to accept I could still be a real mom with only one child.
I accepted I couldn’t handle more children.
I am accepting the facts.
I have accepted my husband’s vasectomy as final.
I am accepting my family is complete.
I told my daughter yesterday that there is always enough love for everyone – it’s multiplied, not divided.
I am beginning to accept that is true.”