...and to all mothers and mothers-to-be (expecting or otherwise).
And now, a tale of my first Mother's Day... or was it?
[wavy text as we turn the back the clock]
Mother's Day 2000 was on May 14, the latest date possible for Mother's Day, which is the second Sunday of every May. I was very large with my first child and have the pictures to prove it. My due date was May 19 but I had been certain I'd go early -- I was exercising and walking and my OB had pushed my due date back by two weeks early in the pregnancy. Based on my calculations, I was due May 5, based on the initial ultrasound, I was due May 19. Bad luck.
Mother's Day morning, I noticed the absence of any card for me at the breakfast table. I questioned my husband, Tom, about this. "You're not a mother" was his response. For those of you out there unclear on this issue, any pregnant woman is a mother -- especially one that is about to pop. Breakfast was tense that morning. I can't recall whether my husband produced a card that the had bought just in case -- regardless, the damage was done -- I was not a mother in his eyes. I responded later that I must have been a mother because he certainly was a mother f**ker (it was a joke, I find coarse language to be strangely empowering. I'm not the only woman to feel this way. I'm not saying anyone should emulate me.)
We went to church, which was rare for us in those days. As we exited, one extremely kind woman tapped me and wished me a happy Mother's Day. I shot Tom a dirty look.
My husband and I joined my parents and my maternal grandmother for brunch. We discussed Tom's faux pas at breakfast. My father backed him up, asserting that I was not a mother. (For some reason, there are certain men that seem to get a lot of enjoyment out of annoying me. This is not unique to me, I've witnessed Anne's husband bait her. I guess they just like the danger of it all.) My mother, precious angel that she is, had a card for me. She mentioned it was hard for her to pick a card because she didn't know if she should get a mother-to-be card or a mother card, since it was possible I might have had the baby before Mother's Day.
No, really, it gets better. That evening, Tom and I took a long stroll around the neighborhood. We came home and I proceeded to put together a casserole for dinner. Right after I put it in the oven, about 6 pm, I turned around, ready to make some salads. At that point -- whoosh! My water broke unmistakably. I was so excited and scared and freaked. I thought it was mighty convenient that my water didn't break until after I got Tom's dinner made. My OB told me that I was to wait until the contractions came X minutes apart and then head for the hospital. If the contractions never came, we were to go to the hospital around midnight because of concern over infection and that we'd need to get the show on the road.
We went to the hospital and my daughter was born after 9 am on Monday, May 15, thereby insuring that her birthday never fall on Mother's Day, so I can never even say, 'well, if you were born in thus and such a year, it would have been on Mother's Day.'
To this day, my father loves to point out that Tom has celebrated more Father's Days that I have Mother's Days. Happy Mother's Day!