A Very Unhappy Mother’s Day

On March 2 I survived my husband’s thirty-first birthday, a week later I survived our fifth wedding anniversary and now the week after that the UK is celebrating Mother’s Day. I feel like just screaming at the universe anything else you want to throw at me???!!! but I’m too scared that the universe might accept my challenge and things might yet get worse.

In the past, Mother’s Day has always been about others: Terry’s mother on the UK Mother’s Day and mine on the US Mother’s Day in May. Today, I find myself looking inward and I am acutely aware of the fact that I may never get to be a mother. I know what you’re thinking: ‘you’re young, you can still be a mother’ but being a mother isn’t good enough for me just now. I want to be the mother of Terry’s children and that can never happen for me. ‘Even with Terry you weren’t guaranteed to have children,’ you’re thinking, and you’re right, but with Terry, I could have handled anything. Without him I feel vulnerable and frightened about the future, rather than looking forward to it.

Today I baked Terry’s family’s favourite chocolate chip cookies and I took a box to his mother, because I know that he is sad that he can’t give her a gift this year. Last year we baked her scones with earl grey milk jam, having just started paying off our debts we worked really hard to find the perfect gift that we could afford to give her. Last year we sat around the table, eating delicious scones and smiling and laughing. On the drive home we debated whether or not we were capable of actually paying off all of our debts and becoming debt free; if our crazy plan would work.

This year on the drive home I cried and I cried, changing the radio station anytime anyone wished me a Happy Mother’s Day, which seemed to be every thirty seconds. Today I spent time with Terry’s mother and then made time for myself to mourn the children that Terry and I will never have. To keep my mind occupied, I am spending time working on a cross-stitch project that we had picked out for our firstborn’s nursery, knowing that there will now never be a nursery.

Today is not a happy Mother’s Day, and quite frankly this has been the most difficult month since Terry died. I am forced to mark event after event that I should be spending with my husband all by myself and I am surprised that my body is capable of producing the tears that keep on flowing.

And so on this very unhappy mother’s day, I will spend the day mourning, thankful that I left a few chocolate chip cookies at home for myself in the end. Tomorrow I am hoping that the universe might send something nice my way or, at the very least, that my students will be distracting enough so that for a few hours i can forget about this whole rubbish month until I feel some relief from the crushing weight of missing my husband.

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