On Saturday morning, after we’d slept in with your puppy, Bella, and had a really nice breakfast with some really great (decaf!) coffee, the husband and I were sitting in our sunroom talking when he got all frazzled. He stood up and said, “I have something for you. But I’m scared you won’t like it.” He then walked out to the garage, into his car, and walked in with a gift bag and handed it to me.
“Happy Mother’s Day.”
I was shocked. I’m not really a mom yet, after all. And we’d decided not to spend money on gifts for one another since we’re currently paying off our IVF. But I opened the gift and inside was a long necklace with beautiful Murano glass beads on the very end. Then came the explanation.
“The green one is for Bella’s birth month. The clear one is for my birth month,” then he stopped. I looked at the two pink ones left on the chain and I teared up. “And the pink ones are for your birthday and the baby’s birthday in October.”
For about the fifteenth time in a month I just broke down in tears. The husband asked me if I was crying because I hated the necklace, but he knew better. In between sobs I told him, no, I love it. My tears were because I’m just so happy and feel so grateful.
The tears came all weekend. I had five friends give me mom-to-be cards, lots of texts, well wishes on Facebook, and a lovely bouquet of tulips from my friend, Amy, in Boston for Mother’s Day. I caught myself tearing up every time I’d open a card or get a text or whatever. And in church on Sunday, well, I did really well at composing myself—last year on Mother’s Day our pastor talked about moms but really focused on those who long so badly to be a mom. I couldn’t keep the tears from falling that day and, then, a year later there were just tears of joy. How much has changed.
To say it was a great weekend is an understatement—I was glowing with happiness. But I also found myself thinking all weekend about how much Mother’s Day hurt me last year and how much it hurts those longing to be pregnant or who have lost their babies. I am so incredibly happy and yet can’t stop thinking about those going through treatments or whatever it may be.
They say once you’re an infertile you’re always an infertile. Ain’t that the truth.