My first Mother’s Day…and I had to work. With all of the pre-day hype I felt left out, like I was missing out on something. I woke up like I do every work morning…with my son still fast asleep, snuggled up next to my husband. There are no holidays in the hospital. I knew that 8 years ago when I accepted my first job. Calling in was not an option…at least not an ethical one. So I closed the door softly behind me as I do every work morning and drove to work. As we gathered around the board on the unit preparing to take report, the sentiment was mutual. Most of us nurses are mommies and it was obvious that we all had much better places to be and kiddies to see.
And then one of my friends said something that made me pause. “At least we’re both moms.” It was simple and not terribly profound. But it made me stop and think…about my friend who would love to have a child of her own…and the patient whose baby was born too early…and the woman whose heart and arms are filled with love for a child she can never have.
I went home that night and hugged my baby a little tighter, thankful that I am his mom and he is my son.
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