Ever since I can remember, I have dreaded Mother’s Day. I have heard all of the excuses. “It’s a Hallmark holiday.” “It’s a marketing scheme.” However, it is the only day on the calendar specifically assigned to celebrating mothers. If my mom was alive, it was a sensitive day because it could always be her last Mother’s Day or she could have been ill and we sadly celebrated the day in a cold hospital room. After she passed away when I was 12, it was the day no one addressed in my house. My mother’s passing did not bring my family together; we all handled it (or avoided it) in our own unique ways. Some years, when I didn’t let the guilt get to me, I would ask my grandma to go to the cemetery with me and visit my mom. There, I felt a closeness to her and sense of peace knowing that I was doing something to acknowledge her, and not just avoiding the pain, or the happiness, I wanted to reflect on.

This Mother’s Day is vastly different than the thirty or so days that have come before it, as I am a mom now to a beautiful, nearly 10-month old baby girl. I have often wondered how it will feel to potentially not experience that huge wave of sadness I have grown so accustomed to feeling on and around the holiday. A day that was once robbed from me with sadness, will now be a day that my daughter will celebrate me and what I mean to her. Among so many things in life that they tell you will be mind-blowing and surreal, for me, this concept tops the list.

During the last four or so Mother’s Day, the sadness has pushed itself deeper in my heart, as I was faced with medical problems that threatened my potential of being a mother. Having an ovary removed at 27 due to a borderline cancerous tumor, healing from those two surgeries only to conceive on my honeymoon with an ectopic pregnancy that nearly killed me (and damaged my uterus). Then waiting six months after that surgery to get testing done to see if I could even carry a baby at all, much less be able to get pregnant with one. So the last few years, have been filled with both missing my mother, and anxiety-filled that I would never be able to celebrate a Mother’s Day as a mother myself.

Last year, I sort of ignored the day altogether, because if I allowed it, my pregnant, emotional mind would wander to the year ahead. I would see my little girl hugging me and blabbing baby talk on Mother’s Day morning. And like always in life, I don’t like getting ahead of myself about positive things for fear of jinxing myself. Anybody else? Mother’s Day was just a Sunday last year.

My journey to becoming a mother was not filled with classic fertility problems, but extremely rare and random scares that threatened the only thing I have ever truly wanted for myself. I have written about some of my issues on various websites and am specifically proud of the story I wrote about my ectopic pregnancy on Modern Loss, as I highlighted an issue that many face but no one wants to cover. I know all these experiences brought me closer to giving birth to my perfect Alice.

In many ways, I have been mothering myself for a long time. Maybe that’s why being a mom hasn’t been a huge life transition women commonly speak of. I would like to share a very special part of my book, The Butterfly Groove – the memory in which I recall writing my winning poem for a Mother’s Day contest run by a local jewelry store in my hometown. I wrote the poem with my mom, but she let me take all of the credit, and also gave me the winning prize – a diamond. She split it into two stones to make me earrings. I lost one of them in college, but saved the remaining one and made a joint necklace out of my mom’s two earrings (diamonds were her birthstone). My diamond sits between her two stones. I hope one day Alice wears this piece of jewelry proudly.

Here is my poem, and a picture of the day we were awarded with our diamonds. I was in the 4th grade.

My Mom is a cozy place
Like a warm cup of cocoa
Or a pillow trimmed with lace
My Mom’s love is all mine
I can always depend
She’s more than a mom
She’s my best friend

The day is coming up in a week – am I safe yet? I still don’t want to jinx myself. But I am looking forward to experiencing my first Mother’s Day as a mom, and treating it as the joyous occasion it should be.

Happy Mother’s Day to everyone who celebrates, and hopeful moms as well, who will celebrate one day – no matter impossible that day may seem.