Mother's Day. I am thankful it is over. It was such a difficult day, the most difficult by far. When I carried Wyatt through that very first Mother's Day it was just my husband and I. We were able to have a quite, gentle day. The year after when pregnant with our daughter it was a sad day but it was lined with hope and again it was just us. This year was so . . . different.
I could not have prepared for the range of emotions I experienced yesterday. I woke up to the beautiful voice of our almost seven year old who promptly dropped her Mother's Day packet (which she made at school) onto my chest and hopped out of the room. Our other daughters soon followed. It was the most delightful way to wake up. After my husband made breakfast I began to get ready for church. I began to cry, not just tears rolling down my face but full out sobbing. Of course this was after I applied my mascara and just before we needed to leave for church. It was then that I knew I was not going to make it to church, the tears would not stop.
I cried the entire way to the cemetery. We spent about an hour there. My daughters picked dandelion bouquets and I dug and pulled grass from the rock area around Wyatt's grave marker. My work kept the tears at bay. I felt almost as though a thick fog had entered my body. I easily became disoriented and forgot entirely what I was doing. Thankfully our daughters busied themselves by playing in the backyard most of yesterday. It was so unusual. Usually we go to the zoo because mothers get in free and get to ride the train for free. We usually go out to eat with my husband's parents and top it off with a good helping of a very unhealthy dessert.
Not yesterday. I couldn't go out in public. I was paralyzed by what I would see. Which in my mind would be primarily babies and pregnant women. How could it not be? I biked our two youngest to the park last Friday and it ended up being us and a woman with four boys under the age of 5, the youngest of which were twins probably less than 18 months old though I can't say for sure because I couldn't bring myself to look.
It was such a fine line letting my daughters celebrate me while I celebrated the sons I can mother no more. I am glad to get past another first in a year of so many, one that I will never occur again.