Mother’s Day came and went and I survived.
I stayed home, in part because I didn’t want to hear a single word about mothers or about children, or about anything at all. Mostly I stayed home because I’ve been having trouble with my menstrual cycles, though. I had a bit of a horrific experience, but it’s probably a good thing because it gave me something to think about other than the pain of being a childless mother surrounded by more fortunate people.
I was surprised that some people recognised that I would be hurting on Mother’s Day. I received a few texts, an e-mail, and Facebook messages telling me that people were thinking of and praying for me and for Seraphim especially on that extra hard day. It helped the day not seem as bleak, knowing that while I couldn’t spend the day with my child, people remembered me.
I still don’t know what being a parent looks like when you have no living children, and I doubt I’ll ever figure it out. I will probably wrestle with this until (if) I am blessed with another child and can be a “real” parent as far as everyone else sees it. Maybe I will always struggle with it, knowing I had the first one who I would never watch grow older.