As the semester came to a close, and D had about a week off before his last year of veterinary school began, we decided it was the perfect time to take a little babymoon. For those of you who haven’t heard this term, it’s a honeymoon before the baby comes! Like a push present, thankfully we have come up with all these terms these days, and I can’t deny my love for them all. An excuse for a vacation before baby, and a pretty gift for birthing a child, sounds alright to me!
Of course, naturally we chose to come to our favorite spot and spend sometime breathing and feeling close to our baby girl and prepare for baby W. Talk about a mix of emotions. We never got to take a babymoon last summer, because Mary Anna started showing signs that I needed to be on bed rest and her early arrival made it impossible for a babymoon.
As we arrived last night, our giddiness quickly turned somber. After a stroll on the beach, yummy dinner, and dessert, we snuggled in to watch the NFL draft on t.v., and the tears began as we recognized the pain behind our smiles. It’s Mother’s Day weekend, the first time I felt Mary Anna kick last year was on this special day at the beach, and somehow I am supposed to reconcile in my heart how to be a mommy to my baby girl in heaven and welcome W on my second Mother’s Day.
My favorite man held me as I said all of these things and reminded me that, “You know karebear, even though Mary Anna was so small, it is only fitting that we spread her ashes in the ocean, because it is a reminder of how big she is to us.” We remembered so vididly not even a year ago sitting by these waters anticipating her arrival, and then two months later spreading her ashes on the same waters edge. We talked about how the ocean is the only tombstone that we have for our girl, and it is so peaceful that we can stand at the vast waters edge and feel close to her. A little part of her is here with us.
So as we meander down to the water this morning and our chair guy gets our space all ready for us to lounge by the water for the day, I feel my heart growing angry. I want to stop everyone from smiling and laughing and explain to them that we are standing at our baby girls gravesite, and I need a little respect. The waves are nasty, the sun is hidden by rain clouds, and it reminds me of the day that we put her ashes into these same waters. It’s like The Lord knew that day and today that we couldn’t handle sun and calm waters, but we needed it to be indicative of how we were feeling.
Messy, ugly, unpredictable, and not fair.
So as I prepare for this day that we celebrate called Mother’s Day, my heart aches. I want to celebrate my baby girl and my baby boy, but it all feels so wrong.
My heart goes out to all the women who have had miscarriages, buried their child, or yearn to be a mommy. I’ve been in all these places, and it makes Sunday a painful day. I’m thankful to be in a place where I am confident to just be free to be what I need to be and feel what I need to feel, and I challenge you to do the same if you are in the same position, and if you aren’t then let the ones around you feel how they need to feel.
As my tears dried up, and I embraced these messy seas ahead and in my heart, I take deep breath, and little W kicks, and I know that I am a mommy. A mommy to him and to sweet Mary Anna.
Happy Mother’s Day weekend to all. May this weekend be filled with joy and sadness if that is what you need. It’s okay to just endure somtimes.