Sunday, May 8th

I actually sat down last night to write, and as I stared at the screen I realized that the words just weren't happening. I couldn't type what my heart was feeling. So, after sitting here for about a hour, I turned the computer off. 

But, as I went through my day, I was able to think a little more about it and put into thoughts and words what my heart was trying to say. So, stay with  me on this one...it hasn't been cooking for that long. ;-) 

Sunday is Mother's Day. I like the idea of a day to celebrate mothers and motherhood. A mother isn't just about my Mom for me - it's my mother-in-law, my Gramma, and my aunts. They have all played a different role in my life, and they have all taught me and loved me. I am blessed. I like Mother's Day Day. 

What I figured out that I am struggling with is Mother's Day at church. 

As I was writing and deleting last night, the phrase that always kept getting typed was "I know I'm not alone in my hurt". I'm not. Mother's Day can be hard on people for many different reasons: they might have lost their mama, they might have a relationship filled with struggle and hurt, they might be a single mom, they might be mourning a loss of a child, they might be living with a mom that isn't the one they were born to and feeling confused/sad/angry about their birth mom, maybe they don't have the option of parenting their children anymore, or (like me) they have been longing for a child. Mother's Day broken hearts are pretty prevalent.

During this journey, I have talked to other women who share the struggle with Mother's Day and most of them have said this: "I don't normally go to church on Mother's Day Sunday - it's just too hard". Yeah, I get that.

I haven't gone to church on Mother's Day in a few years. It's not that I'm boycotting it out of anger or annoyance or jealousy, it's just that I don't feel like there is a place for me that day in the pews of church. I heard a pastor say one Mother's Day morning that "the greatest thing a woman can do with her life is to mother a child." That's hard to hear. I want nothing more than that. But, that's not in my hands. It's not in the hands of a lot of women. Most women don't choose to struggle on Mother's Day - it's a deep wound. A wound that, for most of the year, can be covered. But, Mother's Day at church seems to rip it wide open again. And it's wide open for everyone to see: not standing with the other mothers when the pastor asks them to stand and be appreciated. Having to answer "No, I'm not" when asked if I am a mother to receive a free flower at the door. Or you just lie and stand or accept your flower, but you do so with the ache that it's not true. There are the questions of "why don't you have kids" and the suggestions from others on how to become a parent because "it's the biggest blessing you will ever experience".

Now, (before you get all judgy on me and think I'm bitter or feeling sorry for myself or that I'm being too sensitive) stay with me: Motherhood should be celebrated. I am so excited to be a mom. It is a God-given thing and it is a calling and a mission. I look at my friends who are raising little ones and I am amazed at their selflessness and the deep, never-ending love that they have. I'm not saying that it shouldn't be celebrated. I'm just saying that my eyes have been opened to an underground of women (and some men) that are really hurting on that day. 

I think a lot about our children and their first Mother's Day with us. It will be a celebration. But, it's possible that it will be a day of hurt, too. I think about their birth mom. A woman who I will probably not know, but who I will share something so precious with. It's a bittersweet thing. 

I'm not looking for sympathy in this - I'm not trying to point fingers - I don't want you to feel guilty for celebrating Mother's Day at church. I guess my point in writing out what's on my heart is to ask you to be gentle with others on Sunday.  Be sensitive that the woman sitting down the pew from you might have an empty spot in her heart when it comes to the topic of Motherhood and that it probably wasn't her ideal situation to have that spot. 

My friends - my village - I love you. I think what solidified all the thoughts and emotions of this topic and helped me form my words is the knowledge of "I'm not alone in this". I'm sorry if you're struggling this weekend - please know you're not alone. Thank you for walking with us still.