When Mother’s Day Just Makes You Sad

Mother's Day

Life isn’t a Hallmark commercial.

I think that’s why I found myself crying while folding the laundry and half-watching the television. The Mother’s Day commercials that usually leave me saying “Aww” have left a bittersweet taste in my mouth this year. For the first time, I understand what so many other women feel about just skipping the day all together. The day just serves as a reminder of what could’ve been.

Now, I know what you’re thinking–that I’m dwelling in the land of have-nots instead of remembering the blessings under my roof, but I’m not dwelling there. Sometimes, my mind just seems to peek over the fence for a while when I think about the empty chair at the kitchen table. You see, I realized that every first milestone I pass on the freshly paved road of grief will be be a little painful this year.

Mother’s Day just so happens to be my first hurdle.

I could say the things like “Every day is Mother’s Day” and other little platitudes, but that would be a load of empty words. Yes, I’m a mother of two boys and every day is, in fact, Mother’s Day, but then we go and place a special day on the calendar to celebrate. We schedule baby dedications and bring the kids in from children’s church to hand out roses to their mommies. We ask the mothers to stand while we clap for them in appreciation, while others silently want to slide under their seat and crawl to the nearest exit.

This is the first year I understand how extremely painful this special day can be.

I would’ve been 19 weeks by now. Just a week away from finding out if I’d be buying pink or using hand-me-downs from two big brothers. Most likely, I would be feeling the flutters of movement–just our little secret until the kicks got big enough to feel from the outside.

And it hurts.

I don’t want to dwell on the things that never will be for this child, because really, I could be in mourning every day for the rest of my life if I did. But, certain things just can’t be ignored or stuffed down deep. Certain things have to be mourned. So today, I give myself permission to feel because that’s where the healing begins.

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3


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Sara McClure
Sara McClure is a former public school teacher turned homeschool mom who blogs at Happy Brown House, sharing creative kids activities, homeschool life, and the ups and downs of motherhood. Sara spends her days keeping her two boys busy and engaged with a little bit of creativity and a whole lot of mess in the midst of the mundane. You can follow her on Facebook, TwitterGoogle+, Instagram, and of course, Pinterest.