The Mothers Day emails are flooding in from every website, especially to serve as reminders to husbands everywhere that the cute little hand painted flower pots will not be coming home with our little babes this year because #CovidChronicles
Mothers Day will always be special now, but there was for sure a season when it was everything inside me that wanted to run away and hide in the deepest darkest cavern because there was no way to stop the tears from flowing.
The Mothers Day I am reflecting on today was 2017. I tried my very hardest to choke back the hurt that flooded my heart the morning as we drove to church. I had made it very clear to my husband that I was not feeling church that day because I knew the flaunting that was going to happen of spoiling mamas and I was not in a place that I could completely handle it.
I was so excited to be celebrating dear friends who had adopted Mothers Day week the year before, I was excited for the mama I nannied for that I made cute little gifts for her to open that morning... but there was a void deep down inside that was unfilled by all of the wonderful children I had taught/ babysat/ nannied/ coached through out ALL of the years. The mamas I have worked for know that I love their kiddos something fierce and would fight along side them in anything that tried to hurt them but there was still something missing for me.
2017 was the first year that I had finally come to the realization that even though no doctor had ever told me so, I may never have a child biologically but it did not make Mothers Day hoopla sting any less. This was also the first time that my husband admitted to having the same sting deep down. Little did I know that a short 5 days after Mothers Day 2017, that I would find out that I was expecting my bundle of joy- of course this surge of hormones for sure explains not being able to hold back tears from flowing that Mothers Day.
What this season of loving other mamas babies, and loathing Mothers Day, taught me is that we have to be conscientious of those around us. Families are mourning in various ways- maybe miscarriage, maybe infertility, maybe death of a family member...
These speciality days can be HARD. All days that end with y can be HARD.
Life can be HARD.
Every family has a story going on that you do not see, every family is built in different ways, every family needs love and support. One of my biggest takeaways in all of this is that all of the women in my life have been mamas in one way or another, and my little guy has lots of bonus Aunties, Grandmas and Mamas too. It takes a village to raise a child, and I have been so blessed to have been the village for so many families and am thankful for the village that my little guy has too.
For sake of vulnerability, writing this blog 3 years later still brings tears to my eyes because I remember those feelings. Having gone through pregnancy and learned weird and wonderful things about my make up, I do not know if I will ever carry another child but also know that God can add to our family in many wonderful ways.
Will you join me in praying for families that are hurting in their season?
Maybe they are waiting in an adoption journey, maybe they are in the trenches of foster care, maybe they just got ANOTHER negative pregnancy test, maybe they had a miscarriage, maybe they lost a child or mother.
Prayer is a strong commodity.