Mothers Day. All so perfect and joyous and full of jubilation.

And why all this fuss?

Celebrating the miracle of birth and the power of parenting has been a Hallmark holiday for as long as I can remember. A big deal job by anybody’s standards. A time to show thanks and recognition. It is a day showered with gestures of pampering – starting perhaps with breakfast in bed, some reprieve from chores, and for the most lucky, flowers and gifts of sorts. In fact, some think of today as the most celebrated eating out day of the year.

The colours are spring-like in their hues of red, pink, yellow, orange and green. The colours of happy.

But for some women, today is a harsh reminder of a Not So Happy Mother’s Day.

They are women who longed for life in their womb and know they will remain barren.

They are women grieving the loss of a child, buried far too early into their short life.

They are women celebrating their own children but so missing their own mothers, who have since left this world.

They are women wondering who it was that gave them life, never to be connected with their birth mom.

They are women hoping that adoption really was the best choice, trying to visualize that happy, loving new home.

They are women wondering what went wrong and why they would be deserving of any praise, for surely they are to blame.

They are women who will not be hearing from their child today as they have chosen a lonelier life, estranged from the family.

Enjoy your very happy Mother’s Day, but know for some around you, they are marking the passage of time with a heavy, aching heart. For those women, I celebrate my special day with humility, respect and hopefully, empathetic understanding.

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