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Mother’s Day has a new meaning for me. Not necessarily a happy one.
Last year, it was supposed to be my first Mother’s Day with a newborn. That didn’t happen. Instead, it was my first Mother’s Day and I didn’t have a baby to show for it. I vividly recall I spent my day in hiding, away from phone and any social media. I didn’t want to be flooded with well-wishes, my friends and family members boasting and posting about Mother’s Day brunches, flowers, and gifts, showing off their kids with happy smiles and hugs.
This year, I’m an expectant mother on Mother’s Day. One would think that I would be at least happy this year, that this Mother’s Day would somehow be better than the one last year? That hey, at least I’m expecting a baby this year so that’s better, right?
Not really.
The really jacked-up thing about being pregnant after a loss, especially a late loss, is that you will always wonder what could’ve been. Would I be pregnant with a toddler running around? Would I not be pregnant at all?
I really feel like I was robbed, an opportunity was stolen from me last year and no matter how many wonderful Mother’s Days I’ll have in the future, I can never have that one Mother’s Day, that one in 2012, that was supposed to have the special meaning.
I’m blessed for Yoda inside me and I can’t wait to meet him/her come November. I just wish Yoda was able to meet Ethan as well.
