A couple of days ago, I woke up with itchy eyes and that funny feeling in my head that heralded the arrival of a cold. Well, I haven’t had one in about a year, so I quietly accepted my fate. I had a tech rehearsal later that afternoon, and by the time I had walked up to the church, I was exhausted and feeling like crap. The director let me know that she had added new slides and she had found a double-decker bus from the time period when my mother had worked on one and also of St. Johns, Barbados which is where she was born. Then as I was telling one of the women that my MIL had given me a little teddy wishing me a Happy Mother’s Day, I just broke down. I had been feeling vaguely uncomfortable about it all week, preferring to make it about my own mother as I always had.
There was a certain melancholy as well, as I knew that baby K would be terribly missed by his biological mum. It was a thought I kept to myself, of course.
To accommodate DH’s mum, we went out to dinner that night at a nearby restaurant. I skipped dessert, so you know I was feeling like crap. The wine helped a bit. Not. Whatever. The next day, both MIL and I had our bouquet of flowers, I got a card from my son (cute) and a gift certificate for the spa. Now if I had only had the time to go. DH brought mum to the church on Sunday while MIL watched the baby. Mum behaved beautifully. She sat through the whole thing nicely, and the performance brought tears and laughter to all. It was so good to see her there sitting in the front row, beaming at me. When I got to the bit where I talk about walking down the street with her in our matching outfits, I had to fight back the tears. I wished my sisters had been there to see it. After the show, my mum looked at me, no words, just looked at me really hard and I knew she was saying something to me. I think I know what it was.
Then we dashed off, I brought mum back to the home, checked to see if her flowers had been put in water. She kissed me goodbye and I left her there. As always, I hated leaving her. Crap, I forgot to get her a card.
My younger sister had sent me a mother’s day card as well. I got an email from a couple of friends. A phone call from another. They knew how much it meant to me to become a mother.
So that was my first M Day. I still don’t think I was comfortable with any of the focus on me. I pecked my son goodnight and crawled into bed, waiting for the Nyquil to put me asleep. I don’t need anything really other than to have him look at me and smile. That will cure what ails me.