So many things come to mind when you think of Mother's Day. For some, you may think of beautiful, blooming, hanging flower pots. Bleeding hearts were my mom's favorite.
Maybe you think of pampering and relaxation like a spa gift certificate or a gourmet brunch.
For children, it may be that Mother's Day makes them think of fun craft projects they make for their moms at school or church. I have a few on my kitchen window sill.
For others, you may think of running. Maybe you join with your mom or your friends and run the breast cancer run. Maybe you run to celebrate active generations.
For me, I think of all the different ways I've experienced Mother's Day.
When I was young, Mother's Day would fall on or near my grandma's birthday. We would celebrate Mother's Day and her birthday with a big prime rib dinner. Every year it was the same. Actually, every holiday was the same. same meal. same conversations. There was something comforting about knowing what to expect.
During those years, Mother's Day was about celebrating; celebrating Grandma's birthday, celebrating her as Grandma, and most of all for me, celebrating my mom.
It wasn't until Mother's Day 2003 that my experience with Mother's Day started to change. My husband and I were in the midst of trying to get pregnant. We were only a few months into trying, but that year on Mother's Day, I felt an anticipation. An anticipation that maybe next year I would celebrate Mother's Day not only for my mom and grandma's sake, but I would get to celebrate it as a mom.
The following year held month after month disappointment as we found out we were not pregnant again, and again, and again. I was numb. I wasn't even sure how I felt Mother's Day 2004. I remember sitting in church feeling empty. A friend described it best. "My arms were empty, my womb was empty, my heart felt empty." At the beginning of the service, as a way to recognize Mother's Day, they had a sketch. The sketch told the story of how three different women were experiencing Mother's Day. I remember two of them. One was of a woman who had a strained relationship with her mother. The second was a woman who desperately wanted to be a mother.
My eyes started to burn. All my pain, all the pain I was trying to stuff down found its way to my eyes and began to shower down my face. I didn't realize how much pain was there.
As Mother's Day 2005 approached, I knew it would be different. I was pregnant and due a couple of weeks after Mother's Day. Even though my arms would still be empty, my womb was not. Then it happened. Six weeks before he was due, our son was born. Nine days later he was released from the NICU. That Mother's Day brought back the celebration. We were off to my parent's house for the prime rib dinner. This year I was not only celebrating my grandma and my mom, I was able to celebrate being a mom.
It was glorious! For two years in a row, I was able to celebrate all the wonderful things I love about Mother's Day.
In the time between Mother's Day 2006 and 2007, we suffered three miscarriages. My grandma was fighting a losing battle with cancer. Mother's Day 2007 is a bit of a blur for me. I remember being thankful for getting together with everyone, but there was a hole. I should have been holding another baby or at least carrying another one, but I felt empty again. I was sad, but there was also a keen awareness the gift of our son.
Mother's Day 2008 was so different from all the Mother's Days. We had been given the gift of another son. He too was due to be born after Mother's Day, but came six weeks early. While I celebrated being a mother of two, there was heavy sadness. Grandma was gone, and my mom was fighting uterine cancer. My mom was so sick from treatment that she could hardly move out of her chair. We still tried to have our usual prime rib dinner, but it wasn't the same. The future was so uncertain.
At the time, we didn't know Mother's Day 2009 would be our last with Mom. Despite a promising diagnosis in the fall, her cancer had come back. It was on the move and it was aggressive. We gathered for our prime rib dinner, but mom didn't get out of her chair. She was too weak... She died late that summer.
I spent the next two Mother's Days navigating life without my mom. This year I feel like I'm finally coming out of the fog.
As Mother's Day 2012 approaches, I am thankful.
- Thankful for my two sons. Thankful that in his goodness, the Lord allowed us to keep two of our children.
- Thankful that even though my mom and grandma are gone from us, they are present with the Lord.
- Thankful that even though my heart breaks for friends who have empty arms and empty wombs, I know they are not alone. Not only that, I can acknowledge to them how hard Mother's Day must be for them.
What does Mother's Day stir in you?
- Does it stir a thankful heart?
- Does it stir a sense of celebration?
- Does it stir the pain of loss or a strained relationship?
Whatever it is that Mother's Day stirs in you, go with it. Let yourself feel it. Let yourself experience it fully.
- It's okay to feel happy on Mother's Day.
- It's okay to feel sad, to feel empty on Mother's Day.
- It's okay to acknowledge to someone that Mother's Day must be hard for them.
Whatever it is that you feel, remember that you are not alone.
God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
Psalms 46:1
