You are loved. You are
remembered. You rock. You are MOMS.
I have wondered for a very long time what Mother’s Day feels like from
this side of the fence. About five years
ago, I began to allow the once-happy celebration of my own mother to become all
about me, an annual bummer-fest. No
matter how nice the weather, I’d rent movies and stay inside so I wouldn’t have
to see the perfect, happy moms wearing corsages and pushing their mini-me in a
stroller or on a swing. I’d steer clear
of Facebook for the weekend, the endless stream of pictures and quotes and
Scripture and constant reminders that Motherhood Is The Best. I’d quick call my mom and make sure she knew
I still loved her, and then recede into my safe, happy bubble where this day
does not exist. Just another sunny
Sunday in May.
Obviously I didn’t hate Mother’s Day.
It was just like anything else in life that you so desperately want to
be a part of, but can’t. Eventually you
lash out against it, try to convince yourself that you’re better off without
it. When it was time for bed, I would
hope and pray for a quick sleep, to close my eyes and hide from the last few
hours of this pointless day. Tim would
fall asleep quickly, but of course I never could. Once the lights went out, once the house was
quiet, once the distractions fell away - then all the thoughts I’d successfully
blocked out in the daylight would swarm my defenseless, vulnerable mind. Wide awake, and forced to feel what I had
hidden from all day, I would toss and turn, cry and question, and finally pray…
“Lord, PLEASE let this be the last one.
Please answer my prayer by next Mother’s Day. I can’t do this again.”
And here we are. The Mother’s
Day I have prayed about for so many years.
It should be so easy to write out what it feels like, right?
Perfect. So happy. Everything I ever
dreamed it would be. And we all lived
happily ever after.
Exceeeeeeeeept…. that’s not the whole truth. Imagine my surprise when I woke up and
something still felt “off.” I can’t quite
describe it. Anxiety? Restlessness?
Maybe even a bit of a sting, like stepping out the door into a cool, drizzly
gust of wind. Well, I told myself,
surely it’s just my old instincts kicking in.
My body knows that Mother’s Day is here again, and my mind is still too
groggy to remind it, “Newsflash! We’re a mother now! Get over yourself!” But when a cup of coffee and a nice cuddle
with the very real, very giggly, and very beautiful Libby Joy didn’t completely
drive the feeling away, it became time to think it out. Blog it out.
Second-cup-of-coffee it out. And
here’s what I came up with.
Today I am very, very happy.
Deliriously so. I WILL check
Facebook, constantly, to soak up every single beautiful Mommy post and picture,
to make up for all the years that I haven’t.
BUT… that little piece of me that still feels a tiny bit like I used to
on Mother’s Day… that’s because that girl is still very much a part of me. She always will be. So this Mother’s Day, I will not hide from
her. I will finally give her a voice, in
the hopes that she can brighten up Mother’s Day for other hurting Mommies-at-heart
.
Once in a while, people would pull me aside on Mother’s Day and give me
a hug and look deep in my teary eyes, and tell me, “You ARE a mother.” I would smile and nod, and truly appreciate
the gesture, but I didn’t believe it. Past
Me didn’t feel worthy. She hadn’t
changed the diapers, cleaned the puke, dried the tears. She’d been through pain and she loved her
future babies with all her heart, but she didn’t feel that made her a mother. She needs to know, though, that I’m the mommy
I am today BECAUSE of her. I learned
things from her that I treasure and that make me love my daughter more fiercely
than I ever could have imagined.
1. Mommies need patience to no
end, and grace under fire, for all those moments when your child is screaming
bloody murder just because you’re trying to do something nice for them, like
put food in their belly or exchange a dripping diaper for a dry one. Well, past Megan, I got a little “jump start”
in the patience department from you, and definitely the grace under fire as
well. Three million variations of “sooooo…
when are YOU having kids?” Grrrrrrrr on
the inside. Smile and nod on the
outside. Be thankful for those moments. They were tough but they were worth it.
2. Sometimes mommies require
tunnel vision, when all they can do is live for memories of smiles and sloppy
kisses, and pray without ceasing for the return of those happy days. Sometimes when babies are sick or teething,
they scream through an entire sermon or for days on end, and it takes every
ounce of hope and confidence in God’s goodness to continue to soothe their
tears. I remember days when I was the
one feeling that way, not my teething Libby. It felt like there was no end in sight, and
all I could do was wait it out and trust The Plan. Former me: because you went through that, I
now know I can make it through any number of awful days and sleepless nights,
because what you endured was much, much harder.
3. Mommies (and daddies)
sacrifice a LOT. It’s a well-known
fact. For Libby, I sacrifice showers and
date nights and loads of other things. Target
used to have a little path beaten in the carpet from the beeline I made to the
Missies clearance racks every time I walked in the store. Now there’s a new beeline… to the racks of
adorable frilly dresses and skirts and baby jammies, 50% off so I can stock up
for days when she is bigger and louder and crazier. Sacrifice is not so bad; in fact, it’s downright
rewarding to re-wear an old Easter dress so your gorgeous daughter can have a
brand new one. Everyone’s going to be
looking at her, anyway :) But when I
sacrifice NOW, it’s for a child I can see and smell and feel. Back when I was a mom-at-heart, that girl
sacrificed simply for the DREAM of such a blessing. She sacrificed long days and her privacy so
that doctors could ask her embarrassing questions before they poked and prodded
her. She sacrificed date nights even then, so that the next adoption expense
would be ready when needed. She gave up a lot, never even knowing if it would
pay off, but because she hoped and prayed that it would.
4. Mommies can’t imagine life
without their children, and would give up ANYTHING to keep them safe. Mommies-at-heart live every day without their
children, and would give up anything just to hold them once. And when God finally, graciously makes us
mommies in the way He had planned for us before eternity, we have the blessing
of continuing to carry that feeling with us.
Yes, I said blessing. Not a curse
or a scar or a punishment of some sort, but a beautiful reminder of how
AMAZINGLY we have been blessed, and to never ever ever ever ever take that
blessing for granted. So, past me, would
I love Libby with all my heart if you hadn’t gone through what you did? Yes, of
course. But I wouldn’t love her with
THIS heart. You CHANGED my heart, you
changed all of me and made me a better mommy than I ever would have been
without you.
So, dear mommies-at-heart, please dig deep and find a way to celebrate
yourself today, and I will celebrate you, too.
You are absolutely worth it. The
lessons you are learning, the tears you are crying, and the prayers you are praying
are MAKING YOU into a remarkable mommy.
And to those who have made it, who are at peace for now, please
pray for these mommies and let them know how much you care. Share this post with her, share a drink with her - whatever you can do is a blessing to her. In acknowledging her, you will heal a tiny
piece of her heart and give her the strength to keep on fighting.
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