A Happy Mother's Day

I spent another Mother's Day without my baby.  I spent another year alone.  There was no scribbled card or sweet gift, there was no tiny smile or breakfast in bed for me.  I did not get anything the other mothers get because I have no one to give me anything.  A sad little pang hits me in the morning or when I see the cards at the grocery store for 'The Best Mom.' 

You know what I did do on Mother's Day though?  Spent a fun night playing games with friends on Saturday that stretched into Sunday morning.  I made breakfast for my husband and ate at the table together.  I called my MIL and gave her my love.  We went to my mom's house to give her our gifts and have a simple and relaxing day with watermelon and friend chicken.  We got to sit around with my parents, my brothers and my soon to be SIL and catch up or comment on the basketball game.  I was able to come home and spend the evening laying around and watching the SVU marathon with TB.  I walked into an apt that was quiet and cool and dark and lay in my bed and do nothing because that is what I wanted to do.  And I was able to because I am not in charge of someone else's life.  I am not responsible for anyone but myself.  I was not awake with a sick child all night, no one complained when we stayed up too late laughing.  I don't walk into the pressure cooker of children's toys and gadgets and baby stuff everywhere.  Not having the blinding light and overwhelming heat of never being done taking care of a little person gives me freedom.  I want more than anything to hold my child but on days like that, days when I can do what I want and come and go as I please I focus on the fact that I have something more traditional mothers don't always have.  Freedom.  No one depends on me to feed, clothe, bathe and entertain them.  No one runs to me in tears or screams at the top of their lungs for me. 

I hate the bittersweet days.  I hate the bittersweet days more than the bad days.  Bad days let me release some of what is inside, they let go of some things I hold on to.  The bittersweet days are the worst because I waffle between the sad and happy thoughts, I try to focus on the good parts but slip back into the bad.

But, when the bittersweet is over and the calm comes back I think back to when there weren't bittersweet days, when there wasn't any sweet at all.  I think about the steps it took to get to a place where I can see the good in the bad and see the other side to my loss.  I think about those things and I smile just slightly because maybe I'm not so damaged after all, maybe I AM getting a little better and a little stronger.  Even though it feels soooo slow, I think I am getting somewhere.  Just maybe.