What if Mother’s Day Wasn’t Weird?

Today is Mother’s Day.  I grew up with a mother who served as a single parent.  I am so grateful for her, my grandmother, and my aunt who all worked together to raise me to be the woman that I am.  I am also grateful for a heavenly mother God who comforts me continuously, especially during this time of grief. 

And today, on my first Mother’s Day, it is hard.  Today is weird.  Today is uncertain.  I told James last night that I felt strange.  I know I grew a child and it is nobody’s fault our kid died.  Never getting to hold or even see our child makes being a mother weird.  I have been overwhelmed by the love and grace showered on me today.  Friends have messaged me, commented, texted, and called to tell me Happy Mother’s day.  They have recognized my pain and sat with me in my grief.  Our community truly is the best. 

A few days ago I spoke to my therapist about Mother’s Day.  I didn’t know how I would feel.  I didn’t know if I would cry all day or just long to be recognized.  I can’t see my own emotions before they hit, so how can I expect someone else to?  I told James how I felt because that’s just what we do.  I told him that I didn’t quite feel like a mom, but I also didn’t want to be forgotten.  That perfect partner of mine gave me a necklace with our baby’s birthstone on it.  I mean, how perfect is he?  If you see me anytime between now and the year 2090 I’ll probably be wearing that necklace. 

So here is the real kicker.  Everyone else has recognized me and I’m having trouble recognizing myself.  I want to be noticed, I don’t want to be forgotten, and I want to be honored.  All of these things happened and I still feel in between.  I know I’m a mother because for two months of my life I gave my EVERYTHING for that baby.  I spent every waking moment (and many sleeping ones) thinking of how I could care for it and help it grow strong.  Not getting to see or hold our child fills my mind with doubt.  I see the way the women in my life have loved and supported me and I won’t get to do that for our baby. 

I am my own worst critic and now that everyone else has reached out and acknowledged me, all that is left is for me to lean into the true mother that I am.  My Mother God has never physically held me, and yet I know I am held.  I know I am safe, cared for, and sheltered.  I know I am loved, secure, and protected.  If my God can make me feel that way, then I can do that for my baby.  What if Mother’s Day wasn’t weird?  What if I lean into this false sense of liminality and pride myself as a Mother?  Aren’t I the one making it weird? 

People are amazing.  Mother’s are amazing.  Our Mother God is amazing. 

And I am an amazing Mother. 

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