It is Mother’s Day. I love seeing all of the pictures of babies and reading the stories on Facebook. I love the gifts where kids are asked questions about their mom and the blanks are filled in or where they made flowers out of paper. I look forward to a few paper flowers of my own in the next few years. Today, I ramble and I know some of this I blogged about last Mother’s Day and some of this is just is going through my head as a toddler snuggles next to me.
I send love to the ladies who are struggling and want nothing more than the experience of motherhood.
I send love to those that no longer have their mom in their lives.
I send love to those who no longer have their littles with them.
I send love to those who are far away from their loved ones.
Mother’s Day is emotional for me. I think the day can be a loaded one for a lot of people. I hear people grumbling for a variety of reasons. I think this happens on every holiday. Everyone has a beef with people being happy on whatever holiday upsets them. People have the perception that everyone else’s life is perfect and easy. I am not one of those people. I get that life is hard. Do I ever. Everyone struggles with big and little things. Some people hide their struggles. Some people like me put it out there. There is no shame in things being hard or in days being tricky. Everyone handles things differently. I survive by how I choose to handle it. My nature is to be more of a Pollyanna. It always has been. This is something that made Mr Loco and I a crazy awesome team. I tended to always look on the bright side and he thought nothing was out of our reach. We made a game plan and a to do list and tackled life head on with a smile.
I think I was looking forward to my first Mother’s Day because we were so very excited to start a family. We were 37 years old when Baby Loco arrived. We were a million miles away from those two awkward 17 year olds we were in high school. We had this awesome little bundle of baby and happiness and our life turned sideways the week leading up to Mother’s Day.
My first Mother’s Day was spent at urgent care and then the ER and then in observation. I watched my husband quickly lose the ability to walk, drink from a straw and then lose the ability to even pucker to kiss me. There was no coffee in bed or showering me with gifts. (Although he did give me my gift still in the envelope it was mailed in as we drove to the hospital) Life was real. Life was raw. Life was hard as we spent the next two weeks in the hospital juggling a 7 month old baby and a scary diagnosis. We managed to push through some terrifying times because being together was more important than “doing Mother’s Day right”. In the end, Mr Loco loved me. He loved me so hard. When he looked at me, love just flowed. He loved me so honestly and truly. He loved us finally being together. He loved us as parents. He loved the little girl we created. He loved the life we created and lived it to the fullest. I loved all of those things too. I loved him hard and honestly and truly. So, there is no room for anger or crankiness over what other people have that I didn’t. There is just appreciation for the magic we had and this little lady we created.
We joked that we were going to have a do-over for Mother’s Day and Father’s Day since both of our firsts were spent in the hospital. My second Mother’s Day was spent in the thick of grieving the loss of Mr Loco. I had a friend visiting and Baby Loco and I made some horrible pancakes. We spent a lovely day together. That is the important part. For me, every holiday is about our little family. It is about enjoying Baby Loco. It is about taking time to just watch her play, to bask in how much she reminds me of her daddy, to appreciate things like she does. It is taking time to remember and talk about Mr Loco. It is taking time to do something he would do.
Today I think about the intense way he looked at me. The love I always felt. The way he has always cared for me even when we were just friends in high school or talking about travel or running. I think about his reaction when we found out that we were pregnant, the happy tears in his eyes. I think about how he coached me through 42 hours of labor and the look of love when our baby was born.
I think about how he took such good care of me after Baby Loco was born. I will think of my first day as a mother. We had two days together before Mr Loco had to go back to work. Mr Loco made me the most spectacular breakfast of steak and eggs and veggies and an awesome chai my first morning as a mom. We spent our breakfast retelling the story of Baby Loco’s birth to each other and riding the high from the excitement of her birth and the few hours of amazing sleep we got when we brought her home. We had an amazing “Mother’s Day” and “Father’s Day” in those two days we spent basking in Baby Loco. We celebrated being a family. We took a ridiculous number of pictures, we laughed, we were awestruck, we were somehow even more in love. That is the Mother’s Day I will remember.
I am sad. I cry. I grieve. I miss Mr Loco every day. Holidays will always be hard. There will always be tears for the family and life we should be leading. It sucks. There is no “right way” to do things but I am going to find the strength to get up and make pancakes this morning just like Mr Loco would have done. They will be infinitely better than my pancakes last year. Mr Loco would be amazed. I am going to spend my day with Baby Loco. We will have some chai and enjoy the sunshine on this, my third Mother’s Day.
I hope you can enjoy a little sunshine too.