We've just marked another Mother's Day and I mourned (again) for the children that only Harris and I knew existed for so long. It's not that I expect anyone in my support circle to actually say anything to me about having been a mother for such a brief time that it hardly seems to have existed at all. But, in my soul, I know that there was life inside of me twice, and life brought forth from Harris and I in India once as well. Life in India that had heartbeats...and then didn't. No, I'm not expecting people who I've taught to tread lightly in this area to come knocking on my door with flowers or call with more words of support. But, at the same time I want to scream that I should get some credit for trying - some acknowledgement from the universe or God or something that says, "Hey, we know what happened and there's strength in continuing the journey." Saying Mother's Day is "agonizing" would be the understatement of the century.
All of the necessary preparations are coming together again. Extra toiletries have been purchased, more pants and t-shirts have been found, flip-flops for heat-swollen feet are being located, and money has been wired. I'm un-decorating my classroom next week and starting to pack that up for the summer. Oh, and I've been scouring the Kindle free books for anything that might keep my mind occupied while in Delhi for 3 weeks in June (did I mention it'll be in JUNE, again?) because I want to be inside as much as possible.
My mind jumps between wanting to hope and needing to guard from hope. For now, it's best just to stay busy and get thru the next few weeks. There's certainly plenty left to do before we leave! Come June, I want to be ready for India and all that comes with it!