It is 9 AM and Missy is still lying down, Brumby standing over her as if on guard. I’ve been keeping an eye on her through the binoculars for a couple of hours. There isn’t a foal, and she is moving, so she isn’t dead. I haven’t wanted to disturb her in case she is just resting, or starting to give birth. It is Mothers Day after all. Wouldn’t it be delightful to become a mother-of sorts-today? 

 

Opting out of having children rarely bothers me. Most of the time, when I even think about it, I’m confidant in my decision to remain child-free. But on Mother’s Day I notice the vacancy. I think the problem is that I feel very much a mother, I just don’t have children. I’m quite and deeply maternal. I am a mother figure to Rio and Mazzy, and Bob. I’m the mothering caretaker of this land in the Yamsi Valley, the supportive, listening mother to friends and family who often need a strong and loving shoulder to cry on. I see myself as a mother of the world I’m a part of and because I don’t have babies to absorb all this love and nurturing, so I share it with a bigger family. Still, no one recognizes this in me. I’m the sister, daughter, cousin, niece, lover, friend who doesn’t get a Happy Mother’s Day greeting. 

 

Well, I can’t stand the not-knowing of it so I’m off to investigate; to see if Missy needs my help, or am I just being a worry-wart.