As we all know, Sunday was Mother’s Day. It’s always been a hard day, but somehow, it was even harder this year. This was my third Mother’s Day, but to everyone else it was my first. All day I was reminded again and again about how happy I should be. Don’t misunderstand, I was/am so happy to have my rainbow to celebrate. However, what about my other babies? Are they meant to be lost forever? Forgotten because they didn’t survive? I mean, my oldest would be two. How can he not matter?
I’m not trying to say I spent the day in a complete funk, I didn’t. I just felt all my losses a little bit more than normal. There are always days that suck. Mother’s day is one of them. It’s the day that reminds me how long I’ve been a mother. It reminds me of what I’ve lost. It also shows me what I’ve gained.
I have a beautiful family. We’ve been through the unspeakable and ended up with a miracle. Not to terrible when you think of it like that. My heart is full and empty. My soul is tattered and whole. I’m a dichotomy, empty and full. They say a mother’s love is everlasting, I can attest to that. My love is ever reaching. I love ALL my babies. So even though this wasn’t my first Mother’s Day, it was the first that I celebrated.