A New Kind of Mother's Day

I recently read the blog post I wrote last Mother's Day - only 5 weeks after we had lost our Brooklyn. That was such a hard day for me. Harder than Easter, harder than Thanksgiving, maybe even harder than Christmas. I can still feel the intensity of my sadness and anger from that day, as if it is ingrained deep in my bones. I remember how badly my arms ached that day to be holding my sweet girl, and the pit in my stomach that remained all day long.

A few people tried to make Mother's Day better for me last year. Derek got me some beautiful gifts and wrote a really nice card on how he loved me even more after becoming a mama. And two other sweet friends got me the Willow Tree mama holding her baby that is still my profile picture for this blog. But on the whole, I felt like I was walking around the whole day and no one was acknowledging my motherhood. No one was acknowledging the fact that I carried that baby girl 39 weeks and 4 days, gave birth to her, dreamed about a future for her, cared for her in my belly, prepared our house for her, and prepared my heart for her arrival. I felt like that most days, but that feeling was especially apparent on Mother's Day.

Skip ahead 364 days to now. Our sweet Aubrey is napping upstairs in her crib, and my aching arms are full. This Mother's Day will certainly be different. But I will still be walking the tight-rope of joy and grief. Joy for the daughter that fills my aching arms and who's sweet smile makes (almost) everything feel okay, and grief for the daughter who won't fill my arms again until we are reunited one day. 

While I was reflecting on this Mother's Day, I remembered the prayer our pastor Matt would recite each other's day. It is written by a lady named Amy Young.

"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."

Yesterday I received a card in the mail from our good friends Jenna and Bryson. I asked them if I could share it because it was such an encouragement to me.

This Mother's Day, please encourage all of the mothers in your life. Remember that this day is not all "flowers and joy" for every woman. It can be such a hard day if you struggle with losing a child, infertility, the loss of your own mother, or even women who have distance with their own children.  And most of all, please acknowledge these women tomorrow. This card from my friends was so encouraging, but what made it so special was the fact that they acknowledged I am a mother of two, and not just one. No matter what their motherhood looks, acknowledge all of the women in your life who have been mentioned above.