Today should have been my first Mother’s Day. I would have probably been exhausted and busy…. but it still would have been mine.
But it’s not.
It’s a day filled with everyone posting online. Pictures of friends with big bellies. Pictures of friends with their children. Breakfasts, Brunches, presents, tea parties…. I could go on and on. Nothing for me.
Nobody acknowledges us. The mom’s without babies.
There is a Birth Mother’s day. It is the day before Mother’s Day. There are ecards, and cute little images and gifs. There is something for the mom’s who gave their children up for adoption. I know this, because a high school friend is a Birth Mom. And I always remember HER day.
But… nothing for me.
I don’t care if I sound selfish. Isn’t that what today is supposed to be about, anyway? Spoil the mom’s. Let them have their day. Let them do whatever they want for themselves. Pamper them.
Well what about me?! It’s not my fault, that at 9 weeks, her heart stopped beating. I found out when I was 3 weeks along, so I had 6 weeks to grow very attached. 6 weeks to think about EVERYTHING. About the future. About my first Mother’s Day. About all the cute little baby things. About how I wanted to raise her, teach her…
Then *POOF*, all that was gone.
Extensively Explaining Crazy 