On my first mother's day, I was still very, very pregnant. Many doctors induce moms of twins by thirty five weeks. Not my doctor! I was still on strict bed rest and taking terbutaline (an anti-contraction medication).
To say I was miserable would be an understatement. I couldn't leave my house. I couldn't go out to eat. I couldn't stand up to shower.
And being pregnant is very uncomfortable. I think people (particularly men) forget that. At our birth class, the partners tried on the fake pregnancy belly. The first comment from each person was "Man, I have to pee!" It's as if one little part of understanding and empathy dawned on their faces.
I had sharp back pain; many of my friends who have been pregnant say the same thing. I could barely sleep (and that's not a problem I normally have).
So I spent my first mother's day trying to psychically tell my babies and body to start contractions. It didn't work (of course). They were born two weeks later.
More than a few people praised me later for carrying the twins to thirty eight weeks. The compliment felt strange, as it was something I had no control over. I had no control over conceiving twins, no control over carrying them to thirty eight weeks (not really). I suppose I could have not taken the medication, or snuck out of the house and gone running.
But I know twin moms (and other moms) who would have done anything to keep their baby/babies gestating just one day longer. Some spent weeks on magnesium in a hospital bed.
While each person has some control over the birth, pregnancy and parenthood process, there is so much out of our control. That's what I like to remember on Mother's Day.