Mother's Day 2012

Mother's Day is Sunday. I've been looking forward to this occasion since I was a little girl, when my siblings and I would make pancakes and bring them to our mom in bed. I couldn't wait until I could be brought breakfast in bed by my kids.

Baby G won't be doing that for some time, but I've still been looking forward to a day I can consider my own.

I thought last year would be my first Mother's Day. My baby girl wouldn't have been born yet, but I considered myself a mother already. Instead I boycotted the day. I went to my mom's house a couple days before to take her a card. I spent Mother's Day alone while Hubby visited his mother.

Well, not really alone. I decided to get a massage and then I went to the store to pick up a few things for dinner. I encountered reminders of what the day was before I even walked into either place. Banners and signs reminded customers to show their mothers they care. Don't forget to buy her flowers! Don't forget the massage package just for Mom! Don't forget the card! Don't forget the balloons! All the pink, flowery motherness made me...Mad. Sad. Jealous. Pissed off.

I didn't want to spend the day the way that I did. The massage was nice, but I only did it to try and make myself feel like I was celebrating Mother's Day too. I told my mom and Hubby I was boycotting the day, but what I really wanted was to feel included in the day. I didn't want visit my mother and my mother-in-law to celebrate them and have to ignore the fact that I was a mother for a short time too.

I didn't want a big deal made out of the day. I didn't need the balloons, flowers, or a special piece of jewelry. All I wanted was for someone to reach out and say, "I'm thinking of you today."

I wanted recognition that, for a very short time, I was a mom and that I also had a place on Mother's Day.

All I got was a massage and a slap in the face that mothers everywhere were getting celebrated while I was suffering the loss of a very wanted baby.

This year Baby G is here. This makes me very insistent that Mother's Day is about what I want. I want not only what I've been wanting since I was a little girl, but I want what I couldn't have last year.

I want the cards and flowers and balloons. I want a day to sleep in (or, at this point, nap while Hubby takes over baby duties during the day). I want breakfast in bed. I want a nice piece of jewelry. I want a day to be pampered.

I want to remember the baby girl I lost, and enjoy spending the day with the baby boy I hold now.