With Mother’s Day vastly approaching I don’t know how to feel. Mother’s Day is supposed to be a jubilant, chaotic event. Commercials show vibrant bouquets of flowers, crayoned cards and merry brunches at fancy restaurants. Stores covered in pink, white and purple reminding you to ‘Thank Mum’. Everything is perfect. For family’s that have experienced infertility/miscarriage/stillbirth/infant loss, Mother’s Day, is internal. This day is still for us though.
I may have dreaded it and wished it away. Just like I did with Easter, ANZAC Day, Australia Day and all the birthday’s since and still to come since Ryker passed. But it is still mine. It’s a reminder that each event that passes is meant to be a first. Our first Easter together, our first Mother’s Day. My partner Tim has tried to make each one easy for me, and I know he hurts too, he has bought me a Mother’s Day gift already and let me plant them, flowers, ones that will stay a while, ones not in a vase that will wither and wilt within days of purchase.
I don’t know how I will feel tomorrow, and I don’t know what I’ll do. All I know is that tomorrow is set aside for nothing. I know Mother’s Day is a when joy and life abound by millions of mothers around the world. But the day is also about respect and appreciation. And who is more deserving than a mother who has had to give her child back?
“Maybe you are the instrument who is left behind to perpetuate the life that was lost and appreciate the time you had with them to do it,”
Erma Bombeck once stated this when writing a book about Mother’s who don’t get a perfect ending.
The root of all motherhood is a woman loving a child unconditionally. And we do. Should we not be honoured for that?
The late Gilda Radner summed life as a whole pretty well.
“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned the hard way that some poems don’t rhyme and some storied don’t have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what is going to happen next.”
So Mother’s Day may be a day I dread, but it’s a day I will honour myself and not be dragged down. I too love my child. I am a mother. And Mother’s Day is my day too. It’s our day, just as much as it every other mother in the world.