Like planets aligning, celebrations will be juxtaposed this coming weekend. My youngest, my second-born will turn twenty-two on Saturday. Sunday we celebrate Mother's Day.
This has only happened three times before: the weekend of his birth, 2009, 2015. The next time it will happen will be in 2026.
I remember the coincidence in 1998 with a smile because of chocolate-covered strawberries. I had been gestationally diabetic during pregnancy, and rule-follower that I am, had very little chocolate during my last trimester--we're talking three M&Ms each Wednesday, just to cure the craving. My postpartum bloodwork announcing my normal bloodsugar coincided with the delivery of a dozen chocolate-covered strawberries from a local candy manufacturer, gifted to every woman in the hospital giving birth that weekend, in honor of Mother's Day. I ate eight of them before leaving the hospital on Tuesday.
There are celebrations I didn't want to combine. My firstborn's due date fell just four days before our December wedding anniversary, and I hoped they didn't match--how romantic is throwing a child's birthday party? Fortunately, she complied....unfortunately, a bit too well, arriving on Labor Day instead. Yes, we all recognized the irony at the time. She has had a Labor Day birthday three times since, and will have another next year.
But how can I deny the connection between my children's births and Mother's Day? After all, I wouldn't be a mother if it weren't for the gifts of their arrivals. Because of my son's timing, we get to co-celebrate every so often. It happened the year after he was born and twice more since; it will happen again next year. I really don't mind. His birthday, as well as his sister's, always make me pause and remember what an amazing experience becoming a mother has been, and will continue to be.
Happy Mother's Day to all who celebrate this Sunday!