Last year at this time I was 1/3 a mother. We were almost out of the first trimester and while both families knew, the world didn't, so we celebrated it secretly! But it still didn't have the impact of this year. It was more about anticipation. They say that a woman becomes a mother the minute she learns she's pregnant, but a man becomes a father only when the child is born. I kinda agree... Louis was incredible while I was pregnant and talked to and held my belly, but there is no way he will ever understand the incredibly special bond you have after feeling someone move inside for months, knowing that your heartbeat is the most comforting sound they know. He also couldn't relate to the sacrifices I made before, during, & after pregnancy. Not just that my body will never be the same (the weight is gone but oh the stretch marks! And my bum is flatter and hips are wider! And my csection scar. All marks of triumph & joy though!) but I changed my diet, my shoes (all my pretty heels are gathering dust!), the way I slept, my job, my entertainment & conversations, my worries. His life changed only after Carter arrived and then only in some respects. But at the same time, I had only experienced some of those things as of Mothers Day last year. And although I would have given my life to save my baby, being a mother really didn't sink in for me until long after he arrived. I tend to have delayed realization of change.
This year was totally different. I understood the sacrifices of my own mother and all mothers very empathetically. I have probably a dozen friends who have become mothers in the last year, and I thought of all them especially. I thought of all of the mothers who have lost children. Whether you have other children or not I can imagine that losing one of your creations, one of the sweet babies who called you mama, who made you a mother, is a beyond terrible thing. Whether that child is a grown adult or still young, parents should never bury their children, and I know Sunday would have been difficult. I thought of all of the friends I have that are pregnant, one who was already late to give birth, and some who are just starting that journey. What joy & wonder they have coming into their lives! I thought of all of the women who have or are struggling to get pregnant, or never could, and how painful today might be. I hope they found some peace or hope. I also thought of mothers who are no longer with us. Louis lost his grandmother & great grandmother this year, and I know this was a hard day for both sides of his family, as well as other families whose mothers passed. I also thought of people who for various reasons feel like they have no mother. Maybe she was absent or not a good parent, or passed away before they knew her. Whatever the reason, I thought this could also be a difficult day for them. I hope that they were able to acknowledge a substitute mother. A father, grandparent, or friend who had a special influence on their life.
I loved seeing all of the photos and shout-outs to mothers on Facebook. So many of my friends have incredible moms, and it made me smile to see all the retro pictures! But just like friends without kids only want to hear/see/read so much about your kids (no bodily function posts please!), I wondered how all the Mother's Day posts made people feel. We were in Sweetwater & so didn't go to Prestoncrest, but I was relieved to see through Twitter that Gordon preached on his series of Underdogs in the Bible, & not about Mothers. My perspective this year was just so different that I felt sad that a preachers sermon could be a source of grief for some.
I love holidays. Most of them are about love in some fashion (having trouble finding the love in St Patrick's Day), and why not celebrate love?! But as a single teenager I hated Valentines Day, and as a childless woman I yearned to celebrate Mother's Day. How can we celebrate joy & love without causing hurt to those who feel like they have neither?
