Between Bruises and Blooms

They call it a custody battle.

But battles have finish lines.

This feels more like
Holding my breath
For weeks that become months,
Waiting for strangers
To decide pieces of our lives.

I wake each morning
Still their mother.
No ruling can change that.
No courtroom can erase
The years stitched into my heart.

Some days hope is loud.
Some days fear sits beside me,
Whispering every impossible question
A mother was never meant to answer.

I count down to every visit.
I count down to every phone call.
I count down to the moment
I can wrap my arms around my boys
And remind them,
Without saying a word,
That they have always been loved.

People tell me to be patient,
To trust the process,
As though love can be measured
In paperwork and waiting rooms.

So I keep showing up.
I keep signing my name.
I keep telling the truth.
I keep believing
That love is stronger
Than the fear trying to drown it.

Because this isn’t about winning.

It’s about making sure
My boys always know
That while the adults argued,
While the lawyers spoke,
While the world seemed uncertain—

Their mother
Never stopped fighting
To come home to them.