It's a day set aside each year to show your appreciation to your mom and celebrate those who are mothers. I remember being a kid and going to crafts in the park, picking out a gift for my mum, and wrapping it up knowing she would love what I found for her. I'm pretty sure that for the most part they were all things she didn't need and just took up space, but she always kept them (the only one I remember her using was the pocket tissue holder that lingered in her purse until I was at least in high school). I think to her, it was the fact that we went out and chose it on our own that made her smile. My poor mother has gotten her fair share of strange, non-usefull gifts from me and my sister over the years, and unfortunately she is a packrat, so I'm pretty sure they are all still somewhere in her house.
For those of us who have lost our children, mother's day is usually a dreaded day as it approaches. It's a difficult concept to grasp - do we celebrate our motherhood, or do we reject the made up holiday and steer clear of the cards and restaurant carnations? I know people on both sides, and I can't fault either one. Emotions are nasty bitches sometimes, and no one should be told how to feel.
So far I haven't had any luck with mother's day. My first pregnant mother's day, I was due just 3 weeks later, and I was tired, cranky, uncomfortable, bloated and pissy. Pretty standard for 8 and a half months pregnant. My second mother's day was spent in children's hospital. Saoirse had been diagnosed just 3 days prior, and we were doing her first round of chemo. I spent the whole day with her, holding and cuddling her, playing with her and focusing on making her healthy again. It may not have been my ideal thought of what mother's day should be, but in reality, it was probably one of the best mother's days I'll have. I got to focus just on Saoirse - the little girl that made me a mum - and nothing was expected of me other than that. Last year, she was gone. I didn't feel like a mum. I felt like a failure. I had been unable to save her; unable to make her better; unable to give her the childhood she so deserved. Cancer had stolen my baby, stolen my motherhood, stolen my mother's day. I felt defeated.
This year I feel a little different. Of course, I still hate cancer for what it did to my family - for tearing my Saoirse away from me and leaving a hole in my heart and my life. But I am still a mum. I was a mum starting the day I knew Saoirse was growing inside me. I was stuck with the title, and there was nothing I could do to loose it. From that moment on, she always came first, and that hasn't changed at all today. She is my first thought in the morning, and my last at night. She is my focus each day, and she keeps me running.
And now there's a feisty little man awaiting his summer birthday. (Luckily, I'm not 8 1/2 months pregnant, only 6 1/2 so I'm not miserable (yet)). His acrobatics remind me that he's growing strong, and that he will soon take over my time and energy. He will be my living child; the one that others "see" as making me a mum; my outward/public sign of motherhood. And he will be all those things, but Saoirse will still be the one who made me a mother. For it was she that changed my life and transformed me from a woman to a mum - a lifetime commitment, a lifetime dedication, a lifetime joy.