Not My First

Mothers Day is fast approaching, my stomach seems to be in knots and to be honest...I thought I would be better this year. This isn't my "first" Mothers Day, I survived my year of firsts already, but I guess I am disappointed in myself. Not to mention that this year, the advertisements and commercials and store decorations seem to be exploding all over the place! I can't go a single day without getting at least five emails about the "perfect mothers day gift". Everytime I go into Walmart just to get some groceries there are cards everywhere, pretty little gifts lurk around every corner...I'm practically choking on it all! I wish I could just be happy for the mothers around me who are holding their children, I wish I could just be thankful for the women who don't know this pain...and yet, I am selfish and jealous. I want to just shake the naive happiness from the woman around me and make them realize how lucky they are. Maybe they already know how blessed they are...maybe not. I don't want to be so negative and yet I want to pop ever Mothers Day balloon, break every single mug with a silly message to "mommy", burn every card, and pick the petals off every last flower! Where are the presents for the grieving mothers? Why can't stores have a special section of cards just for us?
This time seems so painful. I'm trying to put on a brave face, I want to make the day about MY mommy...but this person inside of me whispers,"what about me? Where is my recognition?" And I wonder, where are my kisses? Where is the breakfast prepared for me in bed? Where are my handmade cards and gifts made from hand and footprints? How cruel is it to be a "mother", to feel the need and want to hold your child but it has all been ripped away. Instead of me getting flowers from my baby, I will bring flowers to him at his grave...instead of breakfast in bed, I will bring the cupcakes to the cemetery...instead of hugs and kisses, I will lay over the soft ground where he rests and cry. While most of the world is on cloud nine celebrating the women who are mothers with fancy lunches, gifts, and dinners.....I will be at the cemetery.