Mother's Day, that is.
As my friend Caroline put it in her recent post about the subject, I don't want to celebrate a bereaved Mother's Day because through and through...
I am a mother. Not just a bereaved mother. A real mother to two incredibly gorgeous boys. The only thing that sets me apart from those regular mothers is knowing what it was like to say goodbye. To live the rest of my years wondering and loving a child too far from my arms to touch. My motherhood started long ago when my hopes and dreams of being a mother were realized in March of 2010. That was going to be our year. Shoot, it already had been. We had just stepped back on U.S. soil not two weeks before after having my very last margarita (before ttc). We moved into our home. The home we bought to raise children in. For them to call home. It wasn't a home for us-- the two of us with far too much space to surround us. So many rooms unused. We dreamed of what it would be like the following year.
2010 was going to be our year.
No more than 2 months prior we were gallivanting around Venice, Paris, and Barcelona just enjoying the carefree lifestyle of being a couple without any inhibitions. Without borders. Without too much responsibility. We had it all and then some. We were blessed. We were thankful. We were in awe that our lives could be so grand. Wonderful marriage. Incredible explorations all over the globe. Purchasing a beautiful home where our future children would call their own. It all seemed so perfect.
And it was.
A bump in the road around the end of my first trimester with Andrew proved to be challenging, but we got through it. Skin cancer is curable. Treatable. We are strong. Our little boy was to be born that year as well, so how could that get us down?
And then it happened. The birth of our son. The son who made me a mother. An extremely proud, brokenhearted mother. 2010 equals bittersweet for me. So many highs and so many lows.
As this Mother's Day approaches, like all of them over these 3 years, I'm somber. I'll always see this day as a day to remember the beautiful face of a son I will forever cherish. Forever protect. While I hope future Mothers' Days are filled with sloppily painted pictures from children still developing those fine motor skills and breakfasts made by little hands, I'll always remember what Mother's Day means to me.
It means I was able to carry beautiful children that were both me and my husband and love on them for as long as I was/am blessed to have them.
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