As Mother’s Day approaches, I am both happy and sad. I am happy that this year I have Oliver, my son, in my life. He is healthy, happy, adorable, he is the light of my life. I am sad because as joyous as my life is right now there are still two very large, vacant holes in my heart. Stella and Joy were my first born. They gave me the title of mother. They are the reason I became a mother. But they are so often forgotten.
Without meaning to, people have already forgotten about them. People have talked about Oliver being the first. The first child. The first grandchild. The first great grandchild. I’ve been called a first time mom by people who mean well, but it still hurts. I may be a new mom, but I am not a first time mom.
My introduction into motherhood may not have been traditional, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t count. I still gave birth. I still cared for my daughters. I still held and cuddled my daughters. I still tried to protect my daughters. My daughters will forever be apart of my story, my life, my family. I will forever love my daughters and I will forever be their mother.
Yesterday was Bereaved Mother’s Day. Once again, a holiday I never wanted to celebrate of even know about it, but I do. It may seem counterintuitive to want my motherhood to be recognized, but also acknowledge a holiday specific for mothers like me, but there is something about this community, the community of bereaved mothers. No one can understand unless they are a part of it. Until you have given birth to a child and then had to give them back, you just can’t possibly understand what that is like.
This coming Sunday, is the real Mother’s Day. For the first time, I will have a child in my arms on this holiday. Zach, Oliver, and I are going to go out for brunch. It will be our first time taking Oliver to a restaurant. Well meaning people will see me with an infant and no other children and assume this is my first Mother’s Day. I don’t know if I will correct them. I am often torn between making sure I acknowledge my daughters and trying not to make anyone uncomfortable or sad, including myself. Either way, I am uncomfortable and sad.
Those of you reading this know me, or at least know my story. You know of Stella and Joy. You may have even met and/or held them. Please, don’t wish me a happy first Mother’s Day. You will not make me sad if you talk about or mention Stella and Joy. In fact, it will make me happy to know you remember them. You will not upset me if you speak their names. Your aren’t reminding me of something bad or sad, because I will never forget. You are honoring them by saying their names, by remembering them.
I am so happy and excited to celebrate this Mother’s Day with Oliver. To hold a baby in my arms and have my motherhood be visible to all. To be able to show everyone just how good of a mother I am. But please remember, this is my second first Mother’s Day. 
