Mugdha Pradhan

It's been six and a half years
since I last met my daughter.

I've come to terms with something.
I failed as a mother.

I didn't have the strength.
Not the financial strength.
Not the mental strength.
Not the courage to hold on to her.

In a moment when we were both vulnerable,
when she was taken in what seemed like a logical decision...
she could live with her father for an year
while I stabilized here.

That's the regret I carry the most.
That I was weak
That I didn't have the nervous system capacity
to hold on to her.
To keep her with me.
To weather the storms that were coming.

It was just too much for me alone.
Having to fend for her,
care for her,
provide for her,
all alone.
I didn't have the strength.

I failed as a mother.
I will never not acknowledge that.
I live with that truth every single day.

But it's days like today.
Mother's Day and her Birthday
These are the two days
when it gets really, really hard.

Because it's not just the grief of her absence.
It's felt at a physical level.

I don't think men will ever
have the capacity to understand what this is.

It's my blood.
It's my genes.
It's my womb
It's every tissue and every fiber of my being
calling out to her.
Reaching out to her.