Growing up, Mother’s Day had one purpose for me: to celebrate my mom and my grandmothers. I made crafts at school and church. Once I got older, I picked out and purchased gifts for them. Hand-made cards were almost always presented. Mother’s day was to celebrate mothers. That’s it.
After my grandmother passed away, I began to notice that Mother’s Day was hard for people who had lost their mom and/or grandmother. My mom was noticeably sad, as were the rest of us. Not to diminish the pain, but it seemed justified because that was nature’s course. Grandparents are expected to pass before their descendants.
Fast forward a few more years, and my dear friend lost her mom way too soon. Again, Mother’s Day took on another meaning. But still, I hadn’t yet processed/understood/dealt with the pain of what Mother’s Day means for women who had lost a child or baby.
Fast forward to our first year of infertility. I tried to be brave because we were still in the early(ish) months of our journey. I went to church on Mother’s Day, sat through the service, and then came home and cried. At the time it felt miserable, but it was nothing close to the pain we would experience later on. Mother’s Day became unbearable for me in the next couple years. It was a stab in the heart that I still wasn’t recognized as a mother even though I had two babies in heaven. I was still childless. Whose idea was it to highlight this??! Why would someone create a holiday that reminds people of pain?
Today was my third Mother’s Day as a recognized ‘mom’. Our first year was when the girls were still in the NICU and I was so sick I couldn’t stand up, so I don’t really count that one. Last year went smoothly, and I felt very celebrated by my husband and family. Today I was prepared to be celebrated, to celebrate my mom, and to hand out white roses to women who had lost a baby. That’s easy, I can do that! I’m past my pain, and now I can just focus on others.
….wrong.
My mom was the first one to walk up to our table. (Side note: We started a ministry at our church to help care for women who experience miscarriage or infant loss. Today we were handing out white roses and other resources to anyone who had walked through this before.) I thought my mom was just coming to say hi. As soon as I saw her face, I froze. She was coming for a rose to represent the baby she lost right before she had me. We hugged and sobbed and she told me that Rebecca was in heaven with my babies and we cried some more. She told me she always imagined Rebecca looking like me but with slightly darker hair. We cried some more and finally she took a rose.
Woah, what a way to start the morning. I thought I was doing fine! I talked with some others about loss and infertility, but I held it together. During the service, our pastor recognized the moms in the room, and then pointed out the pain that this holiday brings for some people.
I looked into the choir right behind our pastor and saw my dear friend who has lost four babies. She has walked through 10+ years of infertility.
I thought about my friend who lost her mom a few years ago.
I sat next to a precious friend who is in the midst of infertility and miscarriage.
My mom lost her first baby girl 30 years ago, and lost her mom too soon to cancer 11 years ago.
Countless others surrounded me with stories of pain related to mothers and children.
My friend held my hand as we cried through the prayer, and I was reminded that this is something that changes you forever. As much as I had tried to hide my feelings of pain, they are still there. Although I have my three precious babies now, they cannot replace my first two children. My mom lost that baby 30 years ago, and now has 3 children and 5 grandchildren, yet still feels the pain of that loss. My friend who lost 4 babies now has 3 adopted children that are the sweetest things you’ve ever seen. God works through the pain. God uses the pain. God changes you through the pain. And God brings joy through the pain.
This was probably the weirdest Mother’s Day yet for me because I juggled so many emotions throughout the day. I was burdened with the stories of loss that surrounded me, including my own. I was celebrated by my sweet husband and three little girls. I was overwhelmed with gratitude to the Lord for blessing me with three perfectly healthy and beautiful girls. I was blessed with the opportunity to minister to others who are walking through something so painful. I was reminded of the Lord’s faithfulness in all walks of life, even when He seems far away.
I hope that Mother’s Day has positive connotations for you, but if you are struggling with the pain of loss, please know that I am praying for you and that you are not forgotten. And if Mother’s Day is joyful for you, I would encourage you to consider what it might mean to the person sitting next to you. Send someone a card or flowers or just a simple text.
Happy Mother’s Day to ALL the mommies out there. Happy Sunday to everyone else. ♥
