This year I celebrate Mothers Day in a new way. This year I am a mother. I don’t yet know the joyous feeling of being called mom, or mommy, or ma ma, but I can rejoice in knowing I am mom. I feel nothing but true, selfless love when I look at A&L. I’d jump out of my window to save them like the mom in MA. I’d stop my van from crushing them with my body like another mom did.
I know everyone loves their child(ren), but infertility mommas have this feeling magnified. It’s like the Grinch when his heart grows so big it bursts into a size ten times larger.
Before today, Mothers Day hit me like a bag of bricks. My mom lives in a different state, so it wasn’t distracting enough to focus on the holiday being about her. When you suffer from infertility, it seeps into your psyche (if that’s the right word to use here), and you feel pangs of heartache with every Facebook message you read proclaiming the day. Reading this post is probably too much for some. And, I get that.
So, I rejoice today, but a piece of my heart aches, not for myself this time, but for my infertility sisters. I wish you peace today. That aching doesn’t really stop once you have your babies though. I can still feel mine flutter a little, knowing that I still feel broken. Having a baby doesn’t fix infertility. It just puts a bandaid over your wound. I’m blessed to have A&L. I feel grateful that my infertility journey had a happy ending. I hope yours did/does too.
I’m lucky to have my mom visiting this weekend. It’s even more special having her here with me. Here we are with A&L.