On this day last year, I thought I would be celebrating, at least unofficially. Just last month, I thought I’d be celebrating, at least unofficially. And now here I am, without a child in my womb, reading all of the facebook and twitter statuses about mothers, unable to write anything on this day.
I’m 2dpt, I *think* today is the day I mark down as ovulation on my FF page, but how do you know if you’ve actually ovulated? And if I have…14 more days till I find out whether or not I’m pregnant.
At midnight last night, up in the spare bedroom of my brother’s house, where we stayed in order to celebrate with our mother today, alone from the peering eyes of anyone, DH pulled out a pink envelope, embraced and kissed me and whispered “Happy Mother’s Day.” Of course tears sprung to my eyes, honestly, because it was midnight and I’d sort of forgotten about why we were there, that Mother’s Day was now, and the realization brought a hot wave of angst to me. I hesitated for a moment, as my husband, in his attempt to make things better, can easily make things worse a lot of times, before I opened the card to read it.
And the card was perfect. Not too much, not too little, just the right amount of pink and sparkles and easiness to it to ease a bit of my pain. He did good.
For most of the world may not know it, but I have two angel babies. I am their mother, and I always will be.
I’m 2dpt, I *think* today is the day I mark down as ovulation on my FF page, but how do you know if you’ve actually ovulated? And if I have…14 more days till I find out whether or not I’m pregnant.
At midnight last night, up in the spare bedroom of my brother’s house, where we stayed in order to celebrate with our mother today, alone from the peering eyes of anyone, DH pulled out a pink envelope, embraced and kissed me and whispered “Happy Mother’s Day.” Of course tears sprung to my eyes, honestly, because it was midnight and I’d sort of forgotten about why we were there, that Mother’s Day was now, and the realization brought a hot wave of angst to me. I hesitated for a moment, as my husband, in his attempt to make things better, can easily make things worse a lot of times, before I opened the card to read it.
And the card was perfect. Not too much, not too little, just the right amount of pink and sparkles and easiness to it to ease a bit of my pain. He did good.
For most of the world may not know it, but I have two angel babies. I am their mother, and I always will be.
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