To go or not to go? That is the question.

My first Mother’s Day as a married woman was spent sobbing at church as I had just completed my first miscarriage. Not recommended!

My second was spent leading the music on the stand, I cried so hard that my sweet husband had to lead the last song and then took me straight home to bed. So much for trying to be strong and graceful. 

My third childless Mother’s Day I planned ahead. I retained a substitute for my mia maid class and played hookie with my hubby. This option is highly recommended. I didn’t have to be strong in front of a dozen growing bellies. I didn’t have to endure talks that were meant to honor current mothers and inspire those whom they serve, but which left me in tears. And, let’s be honest, I didn’t have to feel like the fraud I always do when the bishop asks all the mothers in the audience to stand up and recieve a token of gratitude. If I stand, I’m a liar. If I don’t stand, I have people around me telling me to stand because I am a mother “in spirit”, which makes me feel like a big baby. Gag me, please!

So, what do I do this year? I am kind of a mom or at least I’m hoping to officially gain the title in a few short weeks. But Mother’s Day for me is not so much about the future. It’s about the past. When this time of year rolls around my thoughts return to my lost babies. I feel a deep sense of sadness for what could’ve or should’ve been.

I think I can say that I’ve moved past the self-centered stage, which I was in for a couple of years–I’ll admit it. The last few years I cried because I wasn’t a mom and others were. But now, as I have the beautiful blessing of four children on the way. I have so much to be grateful for.

No, no. When I cry this year, it will be in rememberence. And the tears that flow when I think of my lost babies are not pretty. They are tears that remember the pain of wanting and the pain of loss. They remember the physical pain of miscarriage and the sorrow of being told that our baby is dying, AGAIN.

The tears are also for my best friends who are in the midst of their own losses and sorrow. They are for my sister who gave birth and lost her twin sons all in the month of Mother’s Day. They are for my mom and friends’ moms who I know shed thousands of tears on our behalves just because they are our moms! And they are grandmas to our losses.

Just because I’ll soon be a mom doesn’t mean the memories and disappointment of pregnancy somehow disappear. And I hope they never do. My life’s experience has made me who I am and so much of that is tied up in the past four years. Although this weekend kind of sucks, I’m grateful for the yearly reminder.

And gone is the mormon guilt of a few years ago. I probably won’t attend church tomorrow, and I’m okay with that.

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