For a lot of people, Mother’s Day is just another day and go on about their celebrations without missing a beat. And then there are those that have to force a smile and just try to make it through the day.
I’ve been on both sides.
I’ve been on the side that doesn’t know the loss of a child. The side that doesn’t know what it’s like to not have children. The side that doesn’t know about medications or shots to conceive a child. The side that doesn’t constantly go to the bathroom to check for bleeding after a positive test. The side that doesn’t know the heartache that suddenly floods your soul once you think you’ve moved on and then get a bill in the mail from your loss a year later. The side that hasn’t spent hours looking into adoption or fostering. The side that doesn’t have to dream about the what if’s and make believe fairytales of a family with children. But then I became a part of this side.
I’ve also been on the side that knows what it’s like to carry life and deliver two healthy babies.
I’m incredibly happy because I am a mother. I love my babies beyond any form of measure and I’m eternally grateful that I get to be their mother.
I also remember what it was like for me on Mother’s Day after having a few miscarriages. I rejoiced for those that knew the happiness I now feel- but I also cried in the shower for about an hour because my heart was filled with grief and an emptiness that will forever remain.
Every Christmas I hang an ornament on our tree that is in memory of our heavenly babes. And I cry every time I find it in the ornament box to hang. I cry for the lives that I created but never knew. I cry for the what if’s. I cry because I wouldn’t know Ezra and Campbell if those pregnancies had been successful. I cry because time doesn’t truly heal a broken heart- you just learn to deal.
And then there are the moms that held their babies and lost them due to tragedy. And for those moms… I have no words, because really and truly there just aren’t enough words or minutes in a day to ever take away that kind of gut wrenching pain.
So as you sweet mamas go about your Mother’s Day weekend, I challenge you this: stop and take a moment. Take a moment and truly think about what the day means and be thankful that you’re lucky enough to hold your precious babes. Take a moment and think about those mamas that never have or no longer hold their babies. Take a moment and think of those that always wanted the privilege to be a mama but never got that chance.
For some of us, it’s a Happy Mother’s Day. And for others of us, it’s the Most Dreaded Day. And for some of us, it’s both.