Happy Mother’s Day to all the mommas out there!

Writing is like therapy for me. It’s a way for me to get my thoughts down on “paper” and word vomit all the stuff rolling around in my brain.

So, if I’m being honest, as I lay here in my hammock in my backyard on this beautiful Sunday afternoon, I’m filled with mixed emotions.

I am happy and full of joy because it’s my first Mother’s Day as a mom-to-be. My sweet husband got me a card and a gift that I love, we went to church, had a great service, ate lunch out back, and it’s just so peaceful.

I look down as I type and I can’t help but smile as I feel (and see) the baby inside of me rolling around and reminding me I’m going to be a mother.

But then there is this other part of me that honestly feels sad. Mother’s Day has always been tough for me since my mom died almost 11 years ago. Although I’ve dealt with her death and I’ve grieved her loss, it’s still difficult to not miss her on a day like today.

But for some reason, it feels even a little more difficult this year.

I look at this picture of my mom when she was pregnant with me and I compared it with a picture of me:

I just love her smile and I just know how happy she was to be pregnant. My mom wanted so badly to be a mother. She already loved my sister SO much as though she were her own blood, but I also know that to be able to carry a baby was something she wanted to experience.

And so as I think about that, and as I go through this pregnancy, there are so many times when I wish I could pick up the phone and call her.

There are so many times where I wonder what in the heck is happening to my body and I just want to call my mom and hear her voice and have her tell me the same thing happened to her, or here’s what’s happening, or here’s what I can do to feel better.

And I think about when the baby is here and I’m sure I’m going to have 97,000 parenting questions that I’ll wish I could pick up the phone, call her, and ask. But I can’t do that. I won’t be able to do that.

Yes, I know there are things like the internet, my sister, other family members, and my friends who have had babies and even my amazing mother-in-law. But the truth is, all of those are not the same. They’re not MY mom.

And that’s hard.

I think about how much she would have loved being a grandmother. I look at how much my dad loves being a grandfather already to my nephew Kyle… and I know if my mom were here she’d be spoiling him rotten.

And as I think about the arrival of our baby, it also is sad that my son or daughter will never have had the opportunity to meet my mom. So I try to think of stories I’ll tell him or her… ways I can make her come alive for them.

And beyond that, I pray. I pray for God to heal and bring peace to this part of my heart that honestly just hurts. Sure, I’m a grown adult, but I’m also sometimes just a daughter, a little girl, who just wants her mommy.

I know a lot of this has been rambling, bumbling text. Forgive me, it’s the word vomit.

So, I just end with a picture of me and my mom in the hospital on the day I was born and I pray that the love I see in her eyes is the love that will be in mine when our baby is finally here.

Happy Mother’s Day.