Childless Mothers

So back to Mother's Day reflections.

I read a few articles/essays about adult children without their mothers on Mother's Day. But there weren't any essays about being a childless mother on Mother's Day. And for next year, I want to change that. Why should we lurk in the shadows on that day? Why shouldn't we let people know that we exist? That we are mothers, too? I'm at the point now where I CAN stop to educate people. And I don't always even get choked up. I no longer feel like it's such a burden to tell someone what I'm going through. And how maybe they can help.

Still I bought myself flowers. Yellow mini gerbera daisies. They died. The bouquet that Mr. E gave me? Still alive. Mr. E got me flowers. And a card. So did my mom, where she mentioned Blue and the baby-to-be. My sisters and I sent a group text to each other. My dad said, in an off-hand way, "Oh, yeah, Happy Mother's Day." Three out of four ain't bad.

But someone...anyone?...maybe a mention that this isn't exactly a happy mother's day. That it's sad and weird and I'm not sure I'd like to acknowledge it, as much as I want other people to acknowledge that I AM A MOTHER.

And if I weren't pregnant now, what would that day have felt like? All sadness, no happiness? Would I begin to think of fond memories of Blue? Would I be happy that I ever felt a baby kicking and punching inside my belly?

I don't know. And I'm glad I don't have to know. Getting pregnant again has changed me back to a generally happy person. No I will never be "the same." But this is what not being depressed feels like. It's awesome! I can talk about babies and pregnancies without losing my shit. What I really realized is that other people can talk to me about these things.

Strangely though I still have a somewhat negative reaction to seeing pregnant women, or women with their young kids, or especially Facebook announcements and updates on pregnancy. Thinking they never had to go through what I went through. On Facebook, you can be pretty sure you're right about that. But out in life? How do I know someone's pregnancy wasn't her fourth, after 3 miscarriages? Or a termination? Or a placental abruption? Or an unexplained stillbirth? (Damn I wish I didn't know any of this stuff.)

Oh, the things I don't know and the things I wish I didn't. But I do know one thing: we're all mothers.

Happy/Weird/Sad Belated Mother's Day.