I bought myself flowers for my first mother’s day. I was still pregnant with Adrian then, imagining the bright future his birth and life would bring.
Life ended up looking somewhat different than expected, but I am still a mother.
I bought myself flowers on my second mother’s day also. I wanted to acknowledge the day for me; the aching and also the power encased in my empty arms.
The death of my child didn’t erase my identity.
On my third mother’s day, I was pregnant with Peanut. Determined to keep her safe, I actually spent part of that day in the hospital. (I am so thankful for a provider who was paying attention!)
And while she was born soon after that, her birth didn’t define my motherhood; it only grew it.
I am a mother, now and for always. I am a mother to my children, both living and deceased.
And this May marks my sixth* mother’s day.
I am proud of that number.
I am a mother.
* Funny enough, when I originally posted this graphic on social media, I accidentally put ‘fifth’ instead of ‘sixth’. These pandemic days really have blended together these past few years.
Downloadable graphics for “This May is my Xth Mothers Day”:
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