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  • Megan

One mother of a day

Updated: Dec 6, 2020

Mother’s Day was a beautifully hard day for me. Some of you, who have kept up with my recent writings, might be able to guess why.

Was Mother’s Day rough for anybody else? I know women close to me who have lost their own mothers or a child, born or unborn. And what a reminder this day can be, that a piece of you is missing. That there is a piece of you that is gone; there is a piece of you that you will never get back.

Going into the day, I didn’t really anticipate it being a hard day to swallow. It was going to be just like any other day. We didn’t have any plans and I didn’t have any expectations. We were going to do some much needed yard work and just hang out together, our little family.

But, boy, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I spent more time crying than I thought I would. My heart ached more than I thought it would. I just felt a little “off” that day, despite the smiling faces all around me.

No matter what I did, no matter the shrieks and squeals and giggles from my spicy red head, or how blissfully happy Addison made me (and she does, on a daily basis), I couldn’t seem to shake the twinge of sadness I had in my heart. I felt like I couldn’t be totally present because a massive part of me was thinking about the baby we lost. I tried to keep the sadness at bay and did my best to distract my mind. Perhaps that’s why it continued to hit me so hard, because I wasn’t allowing myself to feel the feelings as they came.

But perhaps it’s because of another reason that I came to realize that day.

Mother’s Day should have been a milestone for us. I should have been hitting my second trimester. I should have been past what is deemed the scariest part. We should have been gearing up to tell our close friends and family about our surprise of a bean growing inside of me. But we didn’t make it that far. We didn’t get to do that. And my heart felt a little raw, because on a day that is supposed to celebrate being a mother, I was boldly reminded that this time, I failed.

I wanted desperately to sit back, soak everything in and just be present. But no matter how hard I tried; I just couldn’t block those sad thoughts out. Despite sweet texts and calls from friends and family, I just couldn’t truly enjoy the day. I was going through the motions, trying to appear as if everything was fine. I felt numb. And I feel like a crap person for saying that. Because I have a beautiful, healthy and vibrant daughter, whom I love VERY deeply. A husband who loves the crap out of all of us. Three dogs that bring me joy (and extra reasons to clean). A beautiful life that I’ve worked hard to build with the people I love most. I really, truly, love my life.

I just couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of what should have been, but instead got ripped from my grasp without my permission.

Mother’s Day was a hard day for me.


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