Sunday was a hard day for me. I felt like I was relapsing my grief. In truth, it simply resurfaced from its dormancy, not nonexistance.
I hadn't forgotten that Mother's Day was coming up. I just hadn't really thought about it, as it pertained to me emotionally. It sneaked up on me.
I walked into church and the reality of Mother's Day, seeing other mothers around me, knowing that my baby wasn't here with me, and the question of whether or not I could truly count myself as a mother when I never really got a chance to be one... it all bubbled up. I left to weep in the bathroom. Thankfully, I had a good friend visiting, and she talked to me and let me cry.
Later me and my husband decided to go visit Penny's gravesite. We hadn't visited her yet, because we were waiting for confirmation that her stone was set there. I'm glad we went. Her stone was there. Simple, rosy colored granite, with a lamb engraving. Oddly enough, visiting made me feel better. It seemed a horrible situation, a horrible way to spend a Mother's Day, but it was what I needed. I'm glad for it, even if I do still mourn.