I’d spent the past year in the trenches of new motherhood—sleepless nights, endless feedings, and more love than I thought
possible. When I gently suggested brunch for my first Mother’s Day, my husband scoffed. My mother-in-law sneered. “It’s for
older moms,” they said. “You haven’t earned it.” I was crushed but quiet. No card, no flowers, no “Happy Mother’s Day” came
the next morning. Just me and Lily, my baby girl,
alone in the kitchen. Then my phone lit up—texts from my brothers and dad, celebrating me. The new mom. The one doing her
best.I didn’t know they had more in store. That afternoon,
just as we sat down to Donna’s fancy lunch, in walked my family—arms full of flowers,
