Mother's Day

As the "big day" approaches I find myself apprehensive again.  No, I am not referring to delivery day, I am referring to Mother's Day.   I think it's the single-most painful day in an IF woman's year.  A day that celebrates what we are all trying to achieve.  A day that reminds us of what we don't have.  A day that, for so many, is like a smack in the face, a punch in the gut, that makes us crawl back to the safety of home to cry it out and find a way to keep moving.

Last year, Mother's Day was just after our second loss.  I couldn't handle the day.  I couldn't sit there and watch all of the other mothers celebrate their children, while my arms were so heavily empty and my heart so completely broken.  Each commercial celebrating motherhood, showing tiny babies being cuddled and loved, each one was another stab in my heart.  I cried more tears that week than I thought was humanly possible.  I just wanted my babies back.

This year is bittersweet for me.  I miss my babies in Heaven.  I want to honor them, I want to remember them, I want others to do the same.  Yet I know, deep down, that the focus will be on this child that I am carrying now.  That if we are able to go to church, and I stand with the rest of the mothers, that people will be thinking of Samantha, and not of our other two children that have gone on before us.  Not that celebrating Samantha is wrong-- I am still so in awe that we are pregnant-- but it hurts for the other children that are forgotten.  Not just my two, but all of the children of my friends whose arms are still empty.

So this Mother's Day, please remember to keep your IF friends in mind.  This day is so painful, and for those of us brave enough to venture out, one that leaves us shaking inside for days to come.

To my sisters in this journey, you are all in my prayers.  While it may not be widely recognized by others, we ARE Mothers, whether those children are in our arms or our hearts.