So far, Mother's day has not won any major awards in my book as a mum. My first "mother's" day, I was eight and a half months pregnant, my back hurt, my ankles were swollen, and I hadn't slept well in about two weeks. Needless to say, I was looking forward to the next one.
Last year, my first real mother's day, I was locked in a hospital room. I had just found out my little baby girl, the one who made me a mom, had cancer. While I was thankful I knew what was wrong with her, and that she was feeling better after just one day of treatment, it was not what I had envisioned for my first mother's day.
Which brings us to today. The year when I should have had a good day, a real mother's day. Instead I am left looking at photos of my daughter, and snuggling with her stuffed animals. She didn't get to make me a card with her daddy, and go with him to pick something out for me. She didn't get to let me sleep in and bring me breakfast in bed. Instead I was robbed of my baby. The only one who I got to love and take care of longer than anyone else. The only one who called me mamma.
Cancer stole my mother's day. Cancer SUCKS!