Mother's Day is Hard...

I don't like Mother's Day. I love my mother, she's awesome. But, I don't need an entire day to remind me that I have no one to tuck in at night, no one to sing to sleep, no one to make me construction paper flowers and breakfast in bed. I'm reminded every single day of my huge empty house, my uterus never feels so empty as it does on Mother's Day. It's really not a good day to be infertile. It's sort of like all the single people on Valentine's Day that feel like the whole thing is a mockery of them and their singleness. It has nothing to do with them, but it magnifies their longing inadvertently.

It's probably very selfish. I have lots of great mothers in my life...but it's very painful. I'm not a pleasant person to be around this week, and especially won't be on Sunday. This is always one of those weeks that the devil gets at me pretty hardcore. I just want to be a mom. I want the toys strewn all over to be from my kids, the noses I wipe to be on my kids' faces, the boo-boos I bandage to be from my kid falling, the sticky handprints to be from my kid. I know it's horribly selfish, but I still don't feel like it's all that much to ask. I just want to be a mommy.

Mother's Day just brings it home. Especially with my sister having a baby too. Sunday I was going to take my mom out after Mass, it was going to just be me, her, my husband, and my step-dad. We were just going to go out, and I was just going to pretend it was just Sunday and there was nothing special about the day, and we were just going to eat, and then I was going to come home and it was just going to be Sunday, May 12th. Now it's not going to be that simple. Now it's going to be my grandma, and her daughter, and my mom, and her daughters, and my sister and her daughter, and me...

Me with my big, fat, empty, barren uterus. Me and my achingly empty arms. Just me, and my lack of ability to create life. Me and my bitter and brokenness.

Getting to listen to tales of childbirth and antics, and the love of being a mother...and just getting to listen, because I can't relate because I have nothing. Nothing but tears and aspirations, dreams and wishes. I just have to sit there and smile and hold back the tears, because I make every holiday about my pain, because they all hurt. I'll just have to make it through a few hours....

and then I can come home and curl up in a ball and miss the children I don't know. I just want it to hurt a little less. I just want to be a mom.

I'm sorry I'm being a whiner. I'm sorry I make holidays about me. I'm sorry I'm no fun to be around when I'm like this.

I just hurt. Mother's Day tends to magnify the hurt. I'll have to sit through church, and no doubt hear about how much mothers do, and how awesome motherhood is (those things are true, and need to be said-they just hurt) At least I can hide the tears behind my veil...do you think I'd get away with veiling at dinner?

My prayer on Mother's Day is that all of the mother's without children are comforted, that people acknowledge their hurt. That all mothers that have lost a child too soon find peace and comfort. That all mothers appreciate their motherhood a little deeper. That all women that have longed for a child and now have one won't forget what that longing felt like. That we would all remember that their are women that can't conceive, and  women that have lost children, and women that long for their children to remember them. I pray that all of these women find hope, peace and comfort. I pray that one woman longing for a child conceived a healthy child this week, that she is able to carry to term, and raise to adulthood. I pray that one child estranged from their mother repairs that relationship on Mother's Day. I pray that I can remeber to reach out to someone like me when I do have children, and that I never forget how much I longed for my children.

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