Mother’s Day

Had breakfast in bed this morning. Lots of women would be doing the same today, breaking into smiles as little ones totter in with a tray of oddly shaped pancakes, dandelions in a vase, and scribbly handmade Mother’s Day cards.

I made my own breakfast. Ate it with my fur baby nestled against me. Watched a movie on my laptop.

It’s not what I’ve always wanted. It’s what I have.

The ache I feel every Mother’s Day. Every time I hear someone is expecting. Every time I see parents with their kids. Every time they beam about their families. Every time they complain about how hard it is.

That ache led me to marry the wrong guy who turned out to not want what I want. It led me into the world of step-motherhood which, believe me, is not anywhere near the same thing as motherhood. Mother’s Day only hurt more during those years.

Now I’m faced with a choice: pursue motherhood on my own through adoption, or accept that it’s not going to happen, grieve, and move on. The trouble is, having made such a terrible life decision to enter into the wrong marriage, I have no confidence in myself to choose well.

So for now, while I work away on my masters degree, I sit in a limbo of indecision. I’ve shoved this down into the depths of my mind. It surfaces from time to time and I shove it back down again. I will have to confront it, though. I can’t simply let the passage of time make the decision for me.

To all the moms out there, despite my ache, I am truly happy for you. You’ve got one of the most important, hardest jobs on the planet and, I’m certain, the most rewarding. When it gets tough, hold onto the knowledge that you are so lucky to have this job.

For me, for now, Moe gets all my loves. Every last one. If I post a few too many pics of him on Facebook or tell too many kitty stories, please forgive me. He’s what I have.



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