Today is Mother's Day. D and I went for a long drive, exploring our third Finger Lake, and stopping along the way at our favorite bakery for cinnamon donuts and blueberry scones. The bakery has a machine called a DonutRobot set up in the front window, so you can watch the donuts appear as if by magic. If you buy a box of them, they disappear as if by magic, too.
When the weather turned nice--almost immediately after the freak blizzard that hit on my birthday last month!--D and I quickly got into the habit of Having Adventures, exploring the back roads and byways of the rural parts of our area. We've been to massive Amish markets managed by dozens of families and quaint nurseries full of tender young plants. We've been to musty antique stores and spendy children's boutiques, and to roaring waterfalls and quiet woods and the very lake responsible for our charming "lake-effect" snow storms.
These are some of the most precious days I've known, the two of us wandering the world together, cherishing this time before the dream of our hearts comes true and everything changes forever. In just about five months, our daughter will be here. I can hardly wait! We are so lucky. We are so blessed.
Being pregnant on Mother's Day is a vastly different experience from being not-pregnant on Mother's Day. I was wished "Happy Mother's Day" and "Happy Almost-Mother's Day" several times by strangers, acquaintances, and relatives. The belly has definitely let me into the club. Other mothers notice me and smile, like we're sharing a secret. And I got presents this year, too. Or rather, the baby got presents, including this flannel comforter made by a friend. It may be intended for the baby, but the cats have voiced their opinion on who really owns it. I suspected that this was how it would be with anything for the baby that came into the house. After all, the cats seem to own just about everything around here, as is right and proper in the world of cats.
Just around the bend from this meadow and lake lies a little town called New Hope. It was cool and quiet as we passed through it; though the spring sun was shining brightly, a chill breeze was blowing. It was very symbolic as to how I feel about Mother's Day this year. The wounds of last year's Mother's Day are not too buried to be forgotten. I was grieving the lost babies, bewildered that I'd miscarried so many times already, counting down the days to the June 6 due date I dreaded. I don't think I'll view Mother's Day as purely and innocently as I once did--not now that I know how painful it is for the mothers who have lost children, the mothers who have miscarried, the mothers who are still waiting, still longing for their babies to come to them. We passed through New Hope and I said a prayer for them all--for the ones I know and love, and for the ones I don't know, but whose suffering I know so well--that their hearts may be made peaceful today and all days, and that their children will make their way home soon.
