Mother’s Day is just around the corner.
For all the mothers, I am happy for you. For my mom, whom I love with everything I have, I am glad there is a day to celebrate how wonderful you are, to let you know how grateful I am for all that you do for me.
For some of us– those who desperately want to be mothers but can’t, those who’ve suffered miscarriage or stillbirth, those who’ve lost a living, breathing child, for those of use who never had mothers or had abusive mothers– Mother’s day can be one giant Hallmark reminder of what we’re missing.
I do not look forward to seeing all of the tributes to all of the women who’ve given birth, who’ve gone through pregnancy, who’ve nursed their infants, who’ve raised their babies. I’m not looking forward to seeing all the cute gifts kids give their moms, all the hand-colored cards, all the play-doh sculptures that will be treasured like gold. I do not look forward to seeing all the flowers and cards and brunches and whatever else. I will fully admit that these things bring about feelings of envy, sadness, anger, and grief, because I can’t understand and I can’t be part of it and I don’t know if I will ever be blessed with a child. And right now, “bitter” is perhaps the best word to describe where I am.
Maybe that makes me selfish or short-sighted. Maybe that makes me silly. Or maybe I’m just being honest about where I am in my process right now.
For friends of mine who have children in Heaven, I can’t imagine your pain. If this is how I feel just not being able to have them, I simply can’t even conjure what it must be like for you. For my friends having suffered miscarriage or stillbirth, you are not alone. Do not let your pain be silent. All of you, dear friends: Your children are remembered. They are loved. They are important. They are still part of your families. For Judah, for Jamie, for Charlotte, for Andy, for Damian, for Joshua Aiden, for Tyler, for all of those whose names I do not know: I pray for you and your mothers who miss you more than you can know.
For children who had mothers who were abusive or absent: I feel for you. There was a long period of time when my mother and I had a destructive relationship. It took years of hard work to get where we are. And when Father’s Day comes around, forget it. Believe me, I understand. It sucks going through a holiday that celebrates a parent who abused or neglected you, or died early in your life, leaving you with painful memories of absence in any way. You are not forgotten.
This Mother’s Day, if you are lucky enough to celebrate your mother or celebrate being one, please take a moment to remember the ones who are mourning. The mothers who can’t be mothers. The mothers who lost babies. The mothers who lost children. The children who lost or never had mothers.
This can be a difficult and triggering day, so say a prayer of healing for us. Then say a prayer of gratitude for what you have. You are blessed.
As a mother comforts her child,
so will I comfort you.