May, the time of year when we acknowledge the mothers in our lives. For so many, May is a painful month. Many no longer have their mothers, many long to be mothers, many don't know their mothers, many have never held a living child in their arms. The reminder in May of what a mom is can truly be heart wrenching, it can be gut tearing.
Browsing Facebook this past Mother's day, I saw all the happy smiles, the pictures of pregnant women or moms with their babes on their "first mothers day" and it really hit me. It hit me hard this year, in fact it almost knocked me out. You see, I don't have a picture of my first mother's day. My first mother's day I spent sobbing. There were no happy pictures because Ty died. My baby, my boy who made me a mother had died. There were no happy pictures, there was only heartache. Add on the fact that, what should have been my first mother's day, was also one week after we found out Jacob would not live.
My first mother's day was hell. Pure, raw, emotional hell. It was fucked up. Excuse my language but it was. There I was, I had buried my first born only months before and there I sat, pregnant with my second born, having only found out a week earlier that he too would die. I don't have happy pictures because it wasn't happy. My first mother's day was torture. I hid, I cried, I did everything possible to avoid having to acknowledge it because it tore me apart.
This past mothers day I found myself seeing that day in a different light. I didn't want anything special (I had bought myself a compost as a present) I just wanted time with my family and a yummy meal. We sporadically (which is a step for me)packed up and headed to the beach. We enjoyed our fries and ice cream and even through all the busyness, the hustle and bustle, for one moment, one pure, raw, emotional, beautiful moment, I saw life. I saw life as the mom I wanted to be. I saw life as that first mothers day. Bee, so innocent, taking her shoes off and running with such glee towards the water. I captured it, it tugged at my heart in all the right places. I hold onto that memory as the first moment I truly felt like a mother on mothers day. It may not have been there all day, but for that one magical moment, I lived. It was quickly replaced by trying to get her to keep her clothes on which turned into her having a meltdown but taking her to the park cheered her right up, until she skinned her elbow on the slide. Poor thing! But I really enjoyed my day. Any time I get to sit and watch Bee, her smile, seeing her happy, her telling me she is happy, the innocence, the joy, the excitement. I cover myself in it. It makes me happy. It's something as a mother I waited so long for and finally have. So many wonderful mother moments but my first mother's day will never be what it should have been.
Ty made me a mother but I felt anything but that on my first mother's day. Jacob made me a mother but I felt anything but that on my second mother's day, That too was brutal. It was pure hell. I again cried and cringed at every moment. I would still not have those pictures, that proof that I was indeed a mother. The outside world would not know what I knew, there was no baby to show my motherhood. Even the first mothers day after Bee was born, I was so lost, I was so overwhelmed there still weren't pictures. Even Bee's second mothers day was over shadowed by the fact that we were in Toronto waiting for a plane to take us to Mexico, which in itself was terrifying for me. But finally, this year, it happened. There are pictures, there were smiles, there was the happiness and joy I longed for. Mothers day will never be easy for me and I will never have a picture of my first true mothers day, but moments like these, I relish in.