Mother's Day 2018

Hello to all the beautiful women who have sacrificed their bodies, their time and their own wants to the wants of tiny tyrants who call you Mama. This morning my own, not so tiny tyrants shared breakfast and kisses and hugs with me. My sweet, loving husband did all he could to make me feel special and appreciated even though he does that constantly and does not see the need for one day a year to do it. I am loved, and so very lucky.
I paused for a moment this morning and took a deep breath, as my three towering boys and my darling husband hustled and bustled around my bedroom where I was ensconced in mounds of crisp white bedding with a plate, a coffee cup and a champagne glass within reach. I paused because while if you looked into my room in that moment you would see my teenagers and my husband but you wouldn't see what I see, what I hear. Because when i look around today i see the others. The tiny voices i never got to hear. The sweet babies, i never got to hold. The twin girls who giggle and whisper to each other and would have brought me crayon pictures of flowers today. The little Angel's who would have turned our life completely upside down who would be 8 this year. You don't hear them but I do. The tiny little one who came after that could have been 6 and the apple of her daddy's eye. I hear them. I see them gathered around the bed looking up at their big brothers. I feel the soft breeze from the fan and think of them and the soft touch of their little hands. I think of what could have been but I know in my heart I loved them completely. Their tiny souls may have moved on to other families, chosen other paths but my heart will always beat to the sound of my children, including them. I hope the lives they are leading now, in some other place, with some other family brings them the love and care we had for them. The babies we never got to hold, to hear crying, to see their first smiles and figure out which one looks like daddy but got mamas sense of humor. I hold them, in my heart. My memories of the joy we felt the moment we found out they were coming. The devastation and heartbreak of the dream of them dying. The cold hospital recovery room afterward. The waiting for the pain to ease. The way our view of our world changed. I hold them. Every time we hear of the loss of a child and my husbands hand desperately seeks mine to cling to and squeeze, offering comfort in the midst of the most acute anguish a parent can know. I hold them when I see a pair of blond bouncing haired girls in the supermarket. It's Mother's day and I celebrate the opportunity to have been gifted the three amazing, kind, generous, inquisitive and thoughtful young men in my home to raise. I celebrate the sweet innocent babes who I never got to feel curl their fingers around my thumb. I am their mother, all of them. My heart is full. I can not be more grateful than I am today for the gift of them and for the beauty and comfort of parenting them with the big loving, always watchful, man at my side. Truly today is a celebration of more then what can be seen and only felt. The beauty of the mother/child bond and the exquisite pleasure of a devoted husband  who shares the joy and the bittersweet heartbreak of parenting.