7 May
2010

Posted in: Life
By kelli    2 Comments

Thoughts on Mother’s Day

I have a fantastic Mom. Really, I do. However, if I’m perfectly honest, I probably didn’t think much about Mother’s Day until I had children. Of course I always got my mom a card, and some small gift, and told her thanks-for-all-you’ve-done and really, truly meant it.

Then back in 2005 my husband and I wanted to start a family. We spent many, many months disappointed. In January 2006 I was surprised to find out I was pregnant. We were considering adoption at that point, but I was beyond happy at the unexpected news. But a few weeks later we lost the baby, which was obviously quite difficult for both of us. Mother’s Day that year was May 13 – less than two months after our loss. We got up early for church. This was before we had a house church, and we attended a traditional church, so there were songs about mothers. There were gifts for the mothers. There were gifts for the mother of the most children, of the oldest children, of the youngest children. And there I sat, childless, and blindsided by a tide of emotion I hadn’t anticipated at all. I had thought about my mom that that morning, but until I sat there surrounded by all-things Motherhood I was overwhelmed with a sense of loss and grief for what wasn’t to be.

A lady that somehow knew what we had gone through (although I have no idea how because we hadn’t told many people), found me immediately following the service and hugged me and told me she knew how hard that day must have been for me and that she knew what that felt like. To this day it means so, so much to me that someone even considered that I might be hurting on a day that is typically filled with so much celebration.

I’m so, so thankful that we were able to again get pregnant successfully just a few months later. (And then – surprise – again just a few months after our son was born.) But I know there are many people who – maybe because they can’t have children of their own or have lost a child, or maybe because they don’t have an awesome mom like mine and don’t feel like writing sappy notes in cards – will find themselves less than celebratory this weekend. And if you are one of those people, please know you are not alone.

Remembering what that Mother’s Day in 2006 felt like, I hope on Sunday morning when my chubby-cheeked daughter and my button-nosed son wake me up way-too-early and ask for oatmeal and juice, I am overwhelmed this time with a sense of gratitude both for the mother I have, and for the mother I get to try to be.