I’m not sure about how to tactfully say what I want to say.
That’s not new.
And, as I’ve gotten older and further down the ‘journey’ of life after infertility and loss, I’ve gotten to where I care less about what others think.
I saw lots this Mother’s Day.
Lots on why being a Mother is the best thing ever.
(It is. No question.)
Lots on why Mother’s Day pretty much stinks for many people.
(It does. No question.)
Lots on missing your children or your mother or, if ‘lucky’ like me, both your children AND your mother.
I’m glad all that was and is out there on for anyone with Internet access to come across because the truth is that for many, Mother’s Day is just one big mess of emotions—both happy and sad.
I think what gets me more, though… is the day after.
Because Mother’s Day itself? I usually am prepared for. (Or so I tell myself.)
My mother’s been dead for 12 years.
My sons have been dead for nearly six and three years, respectively.
I’ve had a bit of time for that soul-crushing, raw intensity of missing them to not feel as open a wound.
It’s the day after that makes me want to hide under the covers.
The day after is still filled with happy Facebook and Twitter posts I tried somewhat to stay away from the day before, and yet—
something still screams at me.
It’s not Mother’s Day anymore, but…it still stings like it is.
And that’s the thing.
It still stings.
It may sting worse on Mother’s Day, but at least there are articles and resources out there that recognize that Mother’s Day is not always the easiest for people.
We may get texts and hearts on our Facebook wall and emails, and even a card or flowers in remembrance.
The next day?
The world continues to turn.
And I feel somewhat like I’m hung over.
Like the day before has drained me of every bit of energy and enthusiasm and effort I ever had and I just.want.to.rest.
I am grateful that after years of infertility, I have a sweet little boy who calls me, “Mama,” and runs around filling my days with joy.
I am grateful that though my own mother no longer lives, I am lucky enough to have amazing women I also call, “Mom,” in my life, and in Luke’s life.
But the gratitude for those gifts doesn’t erase the longing for what I wish I also still had, and I just have to be honest.
I am tired.
Smiling as my child gives me Mother’s Day kisses or as I happily look through pictures of my mother in years past is genuine.
I am genuinely thankful and happy and humbled that I live such an amazing life.
But hiding the tears that well as I think about what THREE little boys’ handprints on a card would look like, or hearing my own mother tell them about when I was a child?
I don’t hold them because I feel like I can’t cry them.
I hold them because I feel like I am tired of crying them.
The day after, though?
I just let them fall.
Do you feel like you need to let them fall also?
Go ahead and let them.
I get it.
I think a lot of us do.
I’m small, but scrappy! I have a fierce passion for my family, friends and life in general…I’m a military spouse who has battled infertility for over 13 years, as well as the loss of two babies gone too soon. I love to laugh, and am grateful for every second I celebrate with the ones I love. You can find me at my blog Lori Does Maryland or on Facebook Lori Mullins Ennis or on The Twitter here Lori M. Ennis