The definition of Mother

When I flipped my calendar to May as always the date of Mother's Day caught my eye.  I'll admit my first thought was to wonder if my babies would be here by then.  While the idea of NOT being pregnant any more is very appealing I said a brief prayer that they'd still be comfortable and thriving inside vs. taking on the challenges of the outside world too early.  My next thought was how I felt thinking about Mother's Day being 33 1/2 weeks pregnant.  I was surprised by the answer - not very different.

Don't get me wrong.  Mother's Day is a day I've struggled with for the last three years as we desperately tried to start our family without any success.  For the last three years I've dreaded this day and spent most of it either in tears or fighting them back.  I felt guilty for not being able to focus on my amazing mother and mother in law.  I felt guilty for not truly celebrating my friends who are such inspirational mothers.  All I could feel was the hopelessness of my own personal journey and the ache in my empty heart.  I thought first about the embryos we had transferred that didn't take, then the ones that did but weren't able to continue to grow.  Then the one that did fully implant but had no heartbeat at that first sono.  And finally the one who did - who's precious heart beat we saw not once, but twice, before the ultrasound of silence at almost 10 weeks.

Being pregnant this year didn't take away that grief.  Absolutely it brought hope that had been lacking, happiness and excitement that never existed before.  And of course so much gratitude that we have made it this far.  Every kick and movement I felt on Sunday held an extra special meaning and brought a different kind of tears to my eyes.  But yes, I still grieved the loss of the babies that should have been here and were not.  While I sat with my family and enjoyed their company I still felt a little uncomfortable being included in the group that we were celebrating.  In my heart I had been part of this group for the last three years but not a member that gets recognized.  My children aren't here on earth to post pictures of, to make me breakfast in bed or draw me beautiful pictures.  I never saw their faces or held them in my arms.  But I have held them in my heart since the day those tiny embryos were transferred.  I've felt the weight of responsibility that goes along with being a parent and I"ve felt the grief of failure that I couldn't protect them.

I was encouraged by the number of FaceBook posts I saw this year honoring not only the traditional mothers but those fighting to become a mother and those who have lost children at any stage of life. I know having been in both those positions just being acknowledged provides a small amount of comfort on a very difficult day.  I hope that those still fighting felt loved and not invisible.  I pray that they find hope in the stories of those who walked in their shoes and now have a happy ending.  And mostly I hope that at this time next year they find themselves closer to their own happy ending.  Because we all deserve that.