I remember the first mother's day I was actually a mother. The baby had colic going on six months. I was sleep deprived, emotional and my last nerve had long since sprung.
"Aha!" I thought, "A day for me. A day when I can sleep more than three or four hours at a stretch. A day when someone (consider this a hint Dreamy Husband) will bring me my coffee in bed. A day for me.
I forgot. I have a mother and a mother-in-law. We brunched and dined and hauled a crying baby all over the city. I did not get one moment to myself. I did not get any extra sleep. I did not get coffee in bed.
Fast-forward five years. We added a child but not much else changed. We brunched, we dined, we hauled children. No extra sleep, no coffee in bed. However, this particular mother's day has reached historical proportions at our house. This was the mother's day when daughter number two stopped breathing. I held a limp, purple toddler in my arms, certain she was dead, while my husband begged the EMTs to come to our house despite the fact we owned a large dog.
Daughter number two was an involuntary breath-holder. I spent five hours at Children's Mercy Hospital having her condition diagnoses and explained. It was not a good night. (Happy to report she grew out of the condition that I know took five years off my life.)
I have no expectations of mother's day. None. What a lovely surprise to get not only coffee but breakfast in bed - after I slept in. What a treat to have time to write this blog after a day of brunching and dining.
Thank you to my lovely daughters and Dreamy Husband for a wonderful day.
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