*This post addresses pregnancy and infant loss

I've been thinking a lot about milestones lately. Some days I look in the mirror and I'm shocked that I am the mother of two little kids... Am I really adulty enough for this? This lead me to thinking about building your "mom cred" -the experience you get that qualifies you for the job.

Early on you earn Mom cred with copious amounts of bodily fluid. During pregnancy, you might be among the legions who learn to vomit while driving the car. Your older child may provide running commentary on your bouts of morning all day sickness. "Good job Mommy! You flowed up in the potty this time!"

Then the baby arrives and the bodily fluid game gets intense. Epic spit ups and blowouts become the stuff of knowing laughter and family lore. You learn to laugh about the international plane flight you made where your baby blows out all of his outfits and you put him in the last one two hours before landing and start eyeing other things you've brought in case you need to punt with another MacGyvered (Spellcheck is insistent this isn't a word. We've agreed to disagree) outfit while sitting in jeans that were collateral damage of not one, not two, not three, but four diaper blowouts. Not that I speak from experience or anything

After a few experiences, you feel a little more confident in your mom cred. You've been there, you've seen things. There are at least a few instances where you feel that you can provide advice. (Sorry to all that have to hear my spiel on how many diapers you need on a plane- I know suggesting an entire box isn't helpful)

Then the little poo machines get bigger and there are more things that build your mom cred. You may have to frantically poll Facebook (for a friend, of course) about what will get marker out of the good wood table after a three year old is a bit over-vigorous with his markers and you were a bit distracted. Once again, the crisis passes, you feel a little more settled in this Mom thing, you can offer more practical advice. In case anyone is wondering about the marker/wood table thing- the answer is Murphy's Wood soap, coconut oil, and frantic scrubbing while beseeching the gods of household tips.

I could go on (and On and on)with more examples of Mom cred earned. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Mom cred also sadly gets earned through heartache. I'm sorry for the abrupt shift in tone, but my mind kept coming back to the fact that not all stories have happy endings...

Erma Bombeck, a writer I admire and aspire to be like, wrote a beautiful article for Mother's Day years ago honoring mothers who have lost children. The quote that has stayed with me for years is,

"This may seem like a strange Mother's Day column on a day when joy and life abound for the millions of mothers throughout the country. But it's also a day of appreciation and respect. I can think of no mothers who deserve it more than those who had to give a child back."

In that vein, I feel like the mothers who often have the most mom cred are the ones who have carry their children in their hearts because they can't be in their arms. Parenthood always demands a level of strength that is often surprising to find you have when it is needed. I think parents who experience loss have a strength that goes unnoticed, and worse, undiscussed. It is a horrifically sad, heartbreaking topic that is easier to avoid, however it is a reality that one in four pregnancies don't end the way we hope they will. Some people will beat the odds and just say "I can't even imagine," sympathize and are supportive. Then there are those of us who are that one in four. Today is a day that honors all of those unimaginable moments, but for so many parents parenting children who aren't here there are difficult days sprinkled throughout the year.

As I said, I'm sorry an initially lighthearted post about funny bodily fluid stories and finding the humor in the tougher moments of daily life with small humans took such a hard turn. But, one in four are earning the hardest mom cred of all- the one that no one wants. It's not what becomes a family story later that's shared with laughter and smiles. It’s a story that ends in tears and, all too often, silence. However, these stories still need to be told and these losses need to be remembered. To all of you reading this today who are one in four, I am thinking about you and remembering the sweet little lives you honor and keep safe in your heart. I'll be thinking about you throughout the year, especially on those days that are harder.

There's really no good way to wrap this one up. Motherhood is hard, I'm not denying it, and it's not a competition. The day-to-day is tough with tiny people, but I always try to remember some things are harder. This week, however, serves as a reminder of what I have and how important that is. I'll choose my words with more care on the days I'm earning my mom cred through various misadventures. I'll take a moment to be sad for when the odds weren't in my favor and send love to others who are in the same boat.

A version of this post originally appeared on my blog, Knock, Knock, Knocking on Forty’s Door