Post-Mother's Day Musings

So here it is, 2:30 am the morning after Mother's Day. I've been trying to get myself to bed earlier, but I'm still up. Why? I'm a bit melancholy as is my wont on Mother's Day. It used to be that way because I was childless. Desperate for a baby and trying to appear happy for friends and family who were mothers. But I have three lovely girls now. So why the blues?

A lot of it is that lingering sadness that many IFers will recognize. It stems from the years of trying. Years of prayers and tears. Years of failures and finding fault. It sounds so silly when you say it out loud. Probably a big reason so many women suffer with infertility in silence.

It also stems from those feelings that I should have done more to keep the girls in longer. Grow them bigger. Make them stronger. They shouldn't have had to stay in the NICU. I shouldn't have left them. Maybe if I had stayed at the hospital more I could have breast fed. Maybe if I hadn't tried to breastfeed for so long I could have enjoyed those first couple months more.

Shoulda, woulda, coulda. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

So, in the early morning hours, I sit at my computer and catch up on all the mommy bloggers waxing poetic about Mother's Day and what it means to them and I find my mind wandering to those dark places. And then I'll click "publish" and shut off the computer and go upstairs. There, I will kiss Shira in her bed and climb into my bed tucked between Chaya and Batya. And surrounded by the smell of a cantaloupe-drenched Batya and her big sister I will fall asleep until Shira starts jumping in her bed and shouting for her boobah at 8 am.

Good night all, and I hope all of you had a wonderful Mother's Day. And those still struggling with infertility...you are not alone.