Happy Mother’s Day
This is a tough gig you got going on. Below are some words collected from people in different places in life. I hope something is an encouragement to you today.
Mom is:
Strength
Comfort
A soft place to land
The keeper of the clock
~Christine Pulizzi
Mother’s Day can be difficult for:
Children who lost a mother.
Mothers who lost a child.
Birth-mothers who made a brave decision to place their child for adoption.
Ladies unable to bear children.
You are not forgotten. God loves you. We are thinking about you.
Shane Pruitt
For The Special Needs Mom
Welcome to Holland by Emily Perl Kingsley
When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like you’re planning a vacation to Italy. You’re all excited. You get a whole bunch of guidebooks, you learn a few phrases so you can get around, and then it comes time to pack your bags and head for the airport. Only when you land, the stewardess says, ‘WELCOME TO HOLLAND.” You look at one another in disbelief and shock, saying, “HOLLAND? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? I SIGNED UP FOR ITALY.” But they explain that there’s been a change of plan, that you’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay. “BUT I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT HOLLAND!” you say. ‘I DON’T WANT TO STAY!” But stay you do. You go out and buy some new guidebooks, you learn some new phrases, and you meet people you never knew existed. The important thing is that you are not in a bad place filled with despair. You’re simply in a different place than you had planned. It’s slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy, but after you’ve been there a little while and you have a chance to catch your breath, you begin to discover that Holland has windmills. Holland has tulips. Holland has Rembrandts. But everyone else you know is busy coming and going from Italy. They’re all bragging about what a great time they had there, and for the rest of your life, you’ll say, “YES, THAT’S WHAT I HAD PLANNED.” The pain of that will never go away. You have to accept that pain, because the loss of that dream, the loss of that plan, is a very, very significant loss. But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to go to Italy, you will never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.
For The Adoptive Mom
A note by Sarah Frazer – http://www.sarahefrazer.com/blog
A few years ago I entered the adoption world and little did I know I would also get a peek inside a world I don’t belong to. The pain of infertility has never touched my life. I knew of women, I’ve become friends with women, and one of my favorite friend lost her infant son a couple of years ago. Loss in motherhood is more common than I imagined.
Motherhood was suddenly a topic I felt was a deeper thing than just having children (by adoption or birth). So many women suffer silently on Mother’s Day (and every other day as a matter of fact). Being a mother is a complicated thing. So I hid my joy of motherhood behind the “sensitivity” card. I’m finding this is not right. No matter what, the truth is still the same: I love motherhood! And I’m not ashamed of it. Sure, it is crazy complicated, but some truths about motherhood I’ve learned these past few years are:
If your child is no longer here on earth, you are still a mother.
If your child is grown, you are still a mother.
If your mother has been gone for years, you still think of her daily.
If your mother was absent, you can remember a woman who raised you.
If you’ve never lost a baby, you can still weep with those who do.
If you are a mother, stop apologizing.
Motherhood is beautiful, breathtaking, and I’m going to stop asking for forgiveness from those who suffer. I can still rejoice in motherhood and remember your pain.I can rejoice in knowing God has given me this gift, and if I’m going to hide it away, apologize for it, then I’m missing a beautiful opportunity to show God glory! Giving Him praise can be done when I stop apologizing for motherhood and start rejoicing in Him for this amazing gift!
For Those Struggling With Infertility
A note from Andrea Syrtash –
https://pregnantish.com/mothers-day-letter-infertility-sisters/
“Hi Love. It’s me—your Mom, Andrea.”
I’ve dreamed of saying these words for almost a decade.
I know I’m not alone— that many of you reading this also long to hear the words “Mom,” and may find it tough to deal with Mother’s Day.
I know what it’s like to feel that you’re denied entry to a club that you really want to be in through no fault of your own. Trust me, if becoming a mother were based on merit, you would be in! You’ve already proved your commitment and loyalty, and have demonstrated how much thought and care you would dedicate to your family. You’d pass with flying colors, my friend.
Some of you have drained your bank accounts and prodded your body with more needles than you can count, just for the opportunity to step into this role. You’ve re-organized your lives and schedules because motherhood is something you value. You’ve broken down, exhausted, but have picked yourself up to keep fighting for the chance to be Mom. That’s pretty amazing. If there were an award for resilience, you would win it.
I also know that some people don’t understand why you don’t “just” move on or give up. Chances are, some of them have said things to you like:
You’ve broken down, exhausted, but have picked yourself up to keep fighting for the chance to be Mom. That’s pretty amazing. If there were an award for resilience, you would win it.“Just relax and it’ll work.”
“Just adopt.”
“Just get a surrogate.”
These people may be well-intentioned; but their hurtful suggestions can make it seem like you’re not doing enough. You and I know you’re doing everything you can to make this happen.
It’s tough to tell people who haven’t struggled with getting or staying pregnant that the word “just” minimizes your experience, the immense effort and cost of these steps (no matter how great they may be), and the disease of infertility. If you have blocked tubes, PCOS, fibroids, diminished ovarian reserve, are with a partner who has male-factor infertility, and/or you have other physiological issues, their suggestions actually sound absurd. (I once heard a fertility specialist say, “Nobody tells someone with arthritis to just relax and it’ll go away.”)
My biggest message for you this Mother’s Day: Don’t be so hard on yourself. From one woman on this winding journey to motherhood to another—I see you. Infertility isn’t your fault.
On this Mother’s Day, I honor you. I honor your commitment and dedication to having a child.
I’m inspired by you. You’re going to be a great mom.
Xo, Andrea
To Moms Who Have Lost a Child
A note from Shelley Ramsey
http://www.shelleyramsey.com/a-mothers-day-letter-to-grieving-moms/
Hey Grieving Mom,
You wish Mother’s Day didn’t exist, don’t you? You have buried a precious child, and your arms ache to hold him. Of all days, you especially want him with you on Mother’s Day. You want to celebrate that you carried, birthed, and nurtured him. You want to bask in who he has become, not recall who he was. You long to see him alive and whole and want to inhale the scent that was only his. I know. I get that. Forget the cards, flowers, and chocolate. The gift you long for is to have him walk through the door, throw his arms around you, and say as only he could say, “Hi, Mom.”
I know your heart bleeds and your empty arms throb. I am acutely aware that there is no greater sorrow in all the earth than that of losing a child. I understand why you might avoid public Mother’s Day celebrations, and instead visit the cemetery to see your son’s or daughter’s name written because no one speaks it anymore. And after lovingly planting a kiss on the cold stone that is his grave, you gingerly trace each letter of his sweet name with your finger, don’t you? Say his name bravely and boldly today, mom.
You are extraordinarily grateful that your surviving children breathe and wake up every morning yet live in constant fear that they too will be taken too soon. And if you are with them, you hug them extra tight as you plead with God to keep them safe and healthy.
Brave mama, you are not going crazy. You are courageous. And you are going to be okay. You’ve survived the unimaginable and managed to crawl out of bed yet again today. You are spectacular. Never forget that you will always be his and he will always be yours. You are still his mom.
And you know what? It’s okay to skip church this Mother’s Day to avoid awkward greetings and conversations. The church won’t fold if you do. Likewise, cry a little harder, lunch out-of-town, hide out at home, or be as public as you want to be. Today is your Mother’s Day. You do what you need.
Since your precious child is not here to tell you, please allow me: Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! You are wonderful! You are brave! You are beautiful! You are loved!
And mom, please allow me to pray this prayer for you.
Father,
We mamas who have buried our precious children hurt. Please comfort us. Soothe this piercing pain that rears its ugly head and tries to render us helpless.
Thank you for holding us in our grief. Thank you for sitting with us in our sorrow.
Tell our children that we love and miss them.
Help us to be grateful women.
Lord, we give our surviving children back to you. Don’t let us impose our grief and fears upon them. Let them become the people You want them to be.
Help us to flee bitterness and anger. Fill us with forgiveness and love.
Show us what you have for us to do while we live on this side of heaven and give us the strength to do it well.
Amen.