I love my Mom.
When I was younger, I didn't always appreciate my Mom. I was the center of my own universe. Now that I am older, I am so thankful and grateful for all she did to show us that she loved us and to create great adults (if I do say so myself).
I cherish her support and love as a adult. I need her friendship as a married woman. And I hear her advice and guidance as a mom.
I also have an incredible Mother-in-Law. She loves me immensely and has raised a wonderful son that I am privileged to share my life with.
That being said . . . Mother's Day is bittersweet.
I had moments of dread as I looked toward Mother's Day.
In my most bitter moments, it seemed to me as the day we "Celebrate the women whose parts work".
With every celebration there is a person who is left out. In this situation, people are celebrated for being able to bear children (whether they intended to, or not), and those who have not are not celebrated.
They are not berated or put down, just excluded from the party.
What about the woman who . . .
- experiences years of infertility, with no cure.
- (in her opinion) does not have a mother worth celebrating.
- chooses not to become a mother.
- never intended on getting pregnant, but now has a baby she doesn't want.
- has lost a child.
I am in no way suggesting not celebrating anything or anyone, but to have a compassionate heart and think about those people who may not have had the same positive experience as you have. Or to reach out to someone who has experienced the same loss.
Compassion from a friend is like a cozy blanket and a good movie on a dreary, rainy day. The situation may not change, but the perspective does.
**********************************************************************************
To those who gave birth this year to their first child—we celebrate with you
To those who lost a child this year – we mourn with you
To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stains – we appreciate you
To those who experienced loss through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you
To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment – we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don’t mean to make this harder than it is.
To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms – we need you
To those who have warm and close relationships with your children – we celebrate with you
To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance with your children – we sit with you
To those who lost their mothers this year – we grieve with you
To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother – we acknowledge your experience
To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood – we are better for having you in our midst
To those who have aborted children – we remember them and you on this day
To those who are single and long to be married and mothering your own children – we mourn that life has not turned out the way you longed for it to be
To those who step-parent – we walk with you on these complex paths
To those who envisioned lavishing love on grandchildren -yet that dream is not to be, we grieve with you
To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year – we grieve and rejoice with you
To those who placed children up for adoption — we commend you for your selflessness and remember how you hold that child in your heart
And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising –we anticipate with you
This Mother’s Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you.
