Hi all! Happy May! With Mother’s Day fast approaching, I wanted to touch on this a little. It is by far one of the hardest days of the year for me. To be honest, all holidays are. But Mother’s Day? If I could stay in bed all day and not come out until the day has passed, I would be more than content to do so. Instead, I get up with David and we go spend the day with family. It is, without a doubt, the most exhausting, longest day of the year. All day long I am surrounded by women who have what I so desperately want, what I have done everything in my power to have, only to have it taken from me time and time again. I am reminded every single second of the day about what I have lost. Reminded that I am not a mother to living children and at this point, I don’t know if I ever will be. Wanting so desperately to have someone call me mommy.
Please don’t get me wrong, I love my family and always want to do what I can to celebrate each and every one of them. I understand this is their day and I don’t wish to take that away from anyone. But while I’m doing my best to not bring down the day with my grief, I am also giving everything I have to make the day great for those around me. I feel bad for David because by the time we get home, I am so wiped out and there is nothing left for me to give.
We found out about our last miscarriage about 2 weeks before Mother’s Day last year. Our first ultrasound would’ve been just days before. This was the day we planned to tell our families. Now that I think about it, all of our miscarriages have been around holidays – the first was just before Father’s Day, the second a few days before Christmas, the third just after Father’s Day and the 4th just before Mother’s Day. All being holidays that would’ve been perfect to tell our families.
But Mother’s Day, it’s like an impending storm. It’s right on the horizon. There’s a calm before the storm, like when there is a big storm coming in and you have this moment of peace. This moment of feeling like maybe everything will be ok. Then you can feel the change in the air, the wind is picking up and the waves crashing in. It’s all starting to surround me. As the day comes near, I wonder how long I’ll be able to hold on, how long until it all comes crashing in on me. The air becomes so thick, I feel like I can’t breathe. All I want to do is run away, but I just hunker down and wait for it to pass. I wait until I’m alone to allow my grief to come. By the end of the day, when all my emotions are spent, I’m left floating in the water that’s flooded my soul. Waiting for it to go away so I can pick myself back up again and go on with another day.
I feel such a mix of emotions. So happy for those ladies around me who get to celebrate who they are and everything they have done to bring their children into the world and raise them. While also grieving and hurting because my chance to be them, has been ripped away so many times before. Feeling sympathy for those who are also suffering in silence, only wishing to disappear from the world for the day. Wanting to be allowed to grieve without being made to feel like we are being selfish and taking away the joy from others. But, at the same time, I feel that some of them are also selfish for not taking into consideration what we’ve been through. For not taking into consideration the fact that we would be able to celebrate ourselves too if our children hadn’t been taken from us. For feeling that me grieving for what I’ve lost and can’t have, ruins their day. We are mothers too, just in a very different way.
A mother is someone who has carried a child, whether it was to term or not. A mother is someone who has birthed their child, living or not. A mother is someone who took in a child they didn’t birth. A mother is someone who gives unconditional love to a child. A mother is someone who provides care for their children no matter their age. A mother is strong, a mother loves. A mother gives all she can to her children. A mother sacrifices. A mother is someone who loses her child and continues to love, while also grieving for them every day for the rest of her life. A mother comes in all shapes and sizes. I am a mother! I carried our children. I felt an instant connection and unconditional love for our children as soon as I saw those two pink lines. My body went through the process of birthing our children, no matter how big or small they were. My body went through weeks of pain, hormone changes, etc, to bring itself back to normal each and every time. I grieve for the loss of each of our children. I continue to love our children every day. I am a mother!
So, I write this to all mothers – please remember that I am all about celebrating you. I will do what I can to hype you up because you are doing amazing and deserve all the praise in the world. But please remember that while I am putting you first today, I am also hurting for the fact that I could also be in your shoes right now. I could be celebrated today too. So, instead of feeling pity for me or becoming agitated when my emotions come through and you feel I’m ruining your day, please be patient with me. Please be understanding because you have no idea how hard this day is for me. Please have compassion for those mothers out there who are battling their own emotions for the sake of those they love. Please be kind in knowing that when we are alone, we will weep and we will ache, but we will push everything aside, smile and join you in celebration.
If you can do one thing today and every day, be kind to those around you. You have no idea what they may be going through and what they are pushing aside so as not to ruin the day for others. So as not to ruin the day for themselves.
Sending my love to all,
M
Hope, Stirrups and Rainbows 