I never thought my first Mother’s Day would leave me feeling invisible.
It had been nearly a year since I gave birth to my daughter, Lily—my beautiful, curly-haired girl with bright eyes and a fierce spirit. Motherhood was raw and real: sleepless nights, endless feedings, and a love that ran deeper than I ever imagined. So as my first Mother’s Day approached, I hoped for something simple. A card. Breakfast. A small gesture.
Instead, I was dismissed.
My mother-in-law, Donna, was in town, and I overheard my husband, Ryan, planning a fancy lunch for her. When I gently suggested brunch to fit Lily’s nap schedule, their reaction stunned me.
Ryan frowned. “Mother’s Day is for moms who’ve earned it. You’re still new to this.”
Donna smirked. “Being a mom for a few months doesn’t count. You millennials celebrate everything.”
I didn’t argue. I just held Lily tighter and tried to hold back the sting.
Mother’s Day morning came. No breakfast. No note. No ‘thank you.’ Just me, Lily, and silence.
Then my phone buzzed.