7 Years, Two Mother's Day Mornings

Seven years apart, a glimpse of two very different Mother's Day mornings, inspired by the Sunday Scribblings prompt: Healing.

Pink boxes overflowing with striped crepe paper are strewn all over the floor at my feet. I look on as my mother in law and sister in law embrace, thanking each other effusively for the silken pajamas they have just exchanged. A few months ago, witnessing their celebration of motherhood would have been torture for me and I would have struggled to hide my grimace of jealousy. But instead I sit, smiling quietly, stroking the sweet curve of my taut belly with the palm of my hand.

My mother in law walks over to me, interrupting my reverie by handing me a card and my own pink box. I rip the envelope open, welling up with hormonal tears as I read, "Happy Mother's Day, mother to be!" For once, the Hallmark message has captured my sentiments exactly, and reveals how fast the frustration and pain of miscarriage can heal.

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At 9:55 this morning, the door to my room burst open. I opened my eyes, still stressed by a strange dream involving a second house that we forgot we also needed to clean up and sell.

Jack, Bella and Juliette come bounding in the room, singing "Happy Mother's Day" at the top of their lungs. All three climb on the bed, burrow under the comforter, pelt me with homemade cards, and cover me with sticky kisses. Steve follows them slowly, bearing a red tray laden with a steaming pile of pancakes, fruit salad, and eggs over easy. He cautions them, "Easy guys, take it easy. Not so rough, let Mommy wake up!"

But I gather all three up in my arms, Bella to the right, Juliette to the left, and Jack just smack on top and squeeze them tight. Their cacophony of joy is the best Mother's Day greeting I've ever had.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there, be they mothers to be, new mothers, seasoned mothers, or grandmothers. Wishing you a day filled with simple joys.

This is an original Chefdruck post - no stealing please!