Mother's Day... for the rest of us.

I have to admit it, I had a total.fucking.meltdown Sunday morning. I wasn't really thinking about Mother's Day being a weird day for me since I'm not a big holiday celebrator, but I slept in and DH started giving me a little crap about being late to my mom's and in my head I was just like... MY FUCKING MOTHER'S DAY, TOO DAMMIT! Just because I didn't get to change any diapers doesn't mean I didn't push a baby out of my vagina and quite frankly, make some parental decisions no parent should ever have to make.

I got in the shower and just started uncontrollably sobbing. I just couldn't stop thinking about how Mother's Day is an entire day dedicated to moms of babies who lived--and how I wasn't one of them. And remember the day that I became a member of the "other" category.

And then I cried more getting dressed... and drying my hair... And finally just marched out of the bathroom, red faced and tearful (scaring the crap out of my husband in the process) and told him that I was sad and needed a hug. He said he felt awful, he hadn't even thought of how I'd feel on Mother's Day and that he felt like a jerk. I didn't expect flowers or a card, but I did sort of expect for him to at least SAY something to me to acknowledge the day--I mean, after all I have been pregnant for the past two Mother's Days.

And I cried a little more driving to my mom's... and then again at my mom's. Ugh. I was a mess, but eventually pulled it together after my sister looked at me with great sympathy and said, "You okay? You want some cheese? Maybe a sooooda?" which made me laugh. And I did enjoy a mini Baybel cheese and a coke and I felt a little better.

But I guess that's all part of the grieving process, but dammit-- sometimes it hits me out of nowhere.