A message from my brother: “Happy first Mother’s Day! You’re doing amazing.”
Then another from my dad: “Proud of the mom you’ve become. Your mother would be, too.”
I wasn’t invisible after all.
At lunch, Donna toasted herself with a smug smile. “One day, you’ll earn this,” she said to me.
But then…a surprise.
My father and brothers walked into the restaurant with flowers and gifts. My brother handed me a stunning bouquet. “Happy first Mother’s Day,” he said. Another handed me chocolates and a spa certificate. Even Donna got a polite bouquet—less extravagant, but kind.
Donna looked shocked. “I didn’t realize this was for first-time moms.”
My dad smiled gently. “It should be. Ignoring it feels wrong.”
They sat beside me and celebrated me as a mother—because I am one. Maybe new, maybe learning, but still worthy.
Ryan was silent for most of the lunch. When we left, he quietly said, “Happy Mother’s Day.”
Too late. But it still mattered.
As we walked out, my dad carried Lily on his shoulder. “You’re doing great,” he said softly. “Your mom would be proud.”
And I knew then—I didn’t need validation from people who couldn’t see me. I already had a family who did.
Next year, I’ll celebrate loudly. And I won’t wait for permission to be honored.
Because every mother—new or seasoned—deserves to be seen. 🌷