Monday, May 14, 2012
But, my thoughts kept wandering. I never celebrated Mother's Day before now; not because I didn't think our other children should count, but because the date served as a painful reminder of everything I'd lost. I was pregnant four times, whether anyone else wants to admit it or not. I have four children, and only one here with me.
People kept wishing me a "Happy first Mother's Day," it made me consider, once again, what makes a mother. Have I been a mother all this time? I like to think so. Everyone in my life acts like only V counts though, and it conflicts me. How I mother them is unarguably different: for V I feed him, carry him, change his diapers, tend to his every need. For the others, my body failed them and I was helpless to prevent their loss. I carry them in my heart, I remember them, love them, but I can never do for them that which I do for V. I will never know them like I've grown to know my V. It's different, but I love them all. I just think that should count for something.