For the Moms Who Have Lost
My dad died when I was 10. For about the next 10-15 years I hated Father's Day. It was a painful reminder of something I didn't have.
Time helps and as each season passed, the pain lessened. Plus, my mom married a wonderful man that I'm happy to call my step-father (well, to be honest, I never call him "step-father," I just call him Les). Then I met my husband, fell in love, got married and started a little family.
Sure that pain is still there. It surprises me when it reappears, typically not on a scheduled day (ie: a birthday or Father's Day) but just in a quiet moment or when I hear a song that reminds me of him.
I'm sharing this because I have friends who have lost their moms. I have friends who have lost babies. I have friends who want to be called "mom" more than anything. And I understand their pain.
Mother's Day serves as a reminder of a loss for them or an emptiness of wishes not granted, not as a celebration. My first pregnancy ended with a miscarriage. And then it took a full year for us to get pregnant again. And in that year, a Mother's Day passed.
It was one of the most miserable days of my life.
I should have had a baby by then. I should have been a mom.
I'm not trying to be a downer of a post today, but I just wanted to reach out to YOU if you're feeling a little sad.
I'm not going to say "it gets better."
I'm not going to say "it wasn't meant to be" or "she's not in any pain anymore."
I'm not going to say "it will happen when the time is right."
I am going to say "I love you."
I am going to say "You're not alone."
Happy Mother's Day to the moms we have lost.
Happy Mother's Day to all the moms who have lost babies.
And happy Mother's Day to the moms at heart.