These are my Mother's Day treasures - construction paper flowers in a hand-painted tea cup and a placemat with my four year old daughter's handprints and thoughts on Mommy.
My Mom:
- is 44 inches tall.
- has greenish brown eyes.
- weighs 100 pounds.
- likes to eat corn on the cob and all of the foods.
- is happy all the time.
My mom's favorite thing to do is walk and do everything. But is too big to paint.
I like it when my mom carries me and hugs me and loves me.
The late, great writer and humorist Erma Bombeck wrote on Mother's Day that "Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures and a couple by habit." I became a mother through hope and faith and the grace of God.
To avoid the maudlin and the medical, I'll just say it simply: my first miscarriage was the week before Mother's Day; the second, the ectopic, was at Thanksgiving; and the third miscarriage was on my birthday. The miscarriages were early, but still lousy. And then there was the miracle, the following birthday I was 9 months pregnant, delivering just 11 days later. Laura was practically perfect in every way, my beautiful, smart, sensitive daughter. She's nearly 12 now, reads voraciously, plays "Fur Elise" with feeling and just yesterday, made a lemon meringue pie.
Until Laura was 3, we hoped for another baby, another little duckling to follow us, and it didn't happen. After awhile, we just gave up and said we were content with the blessing of a healthy, happy daughter. And then I turned 39 and things changed. My first thought when the pregnancy was confirmed was "wait a minute, my body doesn't do this without chemicals!" When Laura was seven, Lindsey was born. And Lindsey made me paper flowers for Mother's Day.
At the preschool Mother's Day tea this week, I looked around at the other mommies, many of whom are pregnant or carrying infants or chasing after toddlers, and knew that I was done. In the days when all I wanted was to be a mommy, I hated hearing women talk about "being done" and demanding that their husbands get vasectomies. "All he has to do is look at me and I'm pregnant." I would think to myself, "you are so blessed, woman, don't you see it?"
But, now it's my turn to be done, and I can say it with confidence, although there is regret. I have just one more year of preschool paper flowers, one more year of laminated handprints, many more years of "Fur Elise." And now, I have just one question in my heart, "if I'm so happy, why am I crying?"
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Comments
It's normal to mourn the passing of such a happy time. You and I are about the same age, and yet my children are grown. Sometimes, I think...well...I COULD have another. I have friends who are just starting families. But that's just nostalgia talking.
I have my two, ages 3 and 5, and am not sure if I'm done yet. It depends on the day! :) I'd like to think one more is in our future, but I'm very happy with where we are with our little family of four, too, so we'll just have to wait and see.
Lovely tribute to Mother's Day, Lucy!
Linda: there is triumph and redemption in all great stories. Just getting to this point with my children has taught me volumes about patience & gratitude.
Kit: It's all true in my heart. Thanks for reading!
Bell: the crazy thing is, I really don't care for corn on the cob. I'm not a redhead, either. One of the many reasons I love your posts is because we're the same age, but at different family stages. I see now that you get a chance to have a new life while you're young. I'll be the oldest mom at high school graduation.
Lisa: it's ok, we're friends, you can tell me you're done. But be careful when you turn 39, strange things start to happen...
Pilgrim: there were smiles and tears all around today and I wouldn't have it any other way. Thanks for reading!
Jenna: thanks for reading. Now, here's a tissue.
Fred: thanks for the good wishes. It was a lovely day!
Bits: your day will come, my dear, and I can't wait to read your kid stories!