Holidays, whether legitimate or of the Hallmark variety, always make me reflect on the last few years and Mother’s Day is one that has changed tremendously. Mother’s Day 2014 was the day we originally planned to tell the future grandparents that we were expecting. Instead I spent the day in an emotional fog, haunted by our recent loss. On Mother’s Day 2015, my Dad watched Hannah while Pete and I went to a movie. I must have checked my phone a dozen times to make sure there were no missed calls from him. At that point Hannah’s health was started to deteriorate and I found it difficult to celebrate motherhood in a state of uncertainty.

Mother’s Day this year, my goodness, it was great. I eagerly went to yoga in the morning, leaving Hannah with Pete and his family, and arrived home to an empty house which allowed for an extra long shower. Then Hannah took a three hour nap so I could do laundry and dishes without feeling guilty that I wasn’t giving her my full attention. Pete gave me flowers. We spoiled our dinners with late afternoon milkshakes from McDonalds. Most importantly, Hannah was healthy.

I found myself wanting to celebrate Hannah and Gamy more than myself. After all, they’re the ones who made my lifelong dream of motherhood come true. Because of them I can ask “what’s in your mouth” and “what’s that smell” at least once a day. Because of them I laugh like I never have before. Because of them I love like I never knew I could. Because of them I can feel every muscle fiber in my heart straining to find a little more room for the smiles, the cuddles, and the look in their eyes that tell me they feel it too.