I wrote this last year and thought I’d share it again.
Mother’s Day is in a few days. For some this brings with it excitement. For me, not so much excitement. For me, it’s pain. It’s one of those days I wish didn’t exist.
Wow! That’s honest, isn’t it?
I love my mom. My attitude about Mother’s Day has nothing to do with my mom. In fact, I have felt lots of guilt for 18 years over this. I want to honor my mom for the wonderful mom she was to me growing up and still is today. In fact, the reason I wanted to grow up and become a mom was because of my mom. I wanted to be just like her. She was a stay at home mom and that’s what I wanted to be more than anything else.
When I was 21 I was told I would never have a biological child. That shook me to my core. What else does a woman do, but become a mom? I was married less than a year and my husband at the time and I left that doctor’s office rattled.
Two years later, on Mother’s Day in church, I rubbed my flat belly knowing I had a little miracle growing in me. I was pregnant. After three months, I thought it was safe to start to get excited. I took my wedding dress and cut off the train to make a dedication dress for my baby. We picked out names, Spencer, for a boy and Emily, for a girl.
Within a week, I lost the baby. That was 18 years ago this month. Over these past 18 years, I have spent a lot of time thinking what it would have been like to have that baby live. Or to have possibly had another baby.
Every baby shower that I attend reminds me of my loss. So, I stopped going to baby showers. Sitting around with women who swap labor stories is painful. My labor story was that of me, all alone, in my bathroom, crying out to God for a miracle that never came.
Every Mother’s Day in church, before I became a mom to Kate, was a slap in the face as moms are asked to stand and given a flower to pin to their dress. So, I stopped going to church on Mother’s Day, which I knew broke my mom’s heart. But my mom heart couldn’t take another hit.
Every time I would tell people I was divorced I would get asked the same question, “Did you have kids?” I would answer, “No,” because I didn’t want to explain that I was not only a failure at marriage, I was also a failure as a woman. But truthfully, there was a kid, and within a year of the miscarriage we were separated and heading to divorce court.
After several years, I did become a mom to a beautiful 4-year-old girl in China. My mom hole was filled and overflowed by this sweet little girl. God has taken my pain and turn it into something beautiful. He has been gracious to me.
Since becoming Kate’s mom, I have attended church on Mother’s Day more times than not. I have even preached the Mother’s Day sermon at a church for both services. Can you imagine that?
After Kurt and I were married, I talked with my doctor about the possibility of getting pregnant. She was more optimistic, keep it mind it was 10 years later. But the years passed, and we did not get pregnant. Four years ago, I had an ultrasound in an effort to figure out if I could do anything to try one last time before I got too old, I was pushing 40.
Kurt and I met with the doctor to discuss the results and to see what our options looked like. It was at that appointment that she did a biopsy which sent me off the table and where she told me that my ovaries were, as she put it in medical terms, “like shriveled up raisins.” The conversation took a drastic turn from hope of a new life to possible cancer. The test results came back negative for cancer. But once again, my hopes were dashed.
I am a mom to two wonderful girls I adopted from China. I love being their mom! They were born in my heart long before I laid eyes on them. I would do anything for my girls. But having my girls doesn’t negate the pain of losing a baby so long ago.
People have said to me I should be grateful that I have two girls and I am. But they cannot fill that hole in my heart, just like I can’t fill the hole in their heart to know their biological mom. In some ways, we have both lost and in that we can relate to each other.
Each year as Mother’s Day draws near, I find going to church on Sunday is still a struggle. I was already thinking of telling my family I wanted to skip church this year. But God has a different plan. Kurt and I serve every other Sunday on our church’s prayer team. This Sunday, the other couple who serves opposite weeks as us is out of town and asked us to cover their week. So there I will be at church on Sunday waiting to pray with the broken-hearted, the sick, the needy and the helpless. Who better to stand with them in prayer than one who has a broken heart?
My hope is
if you can identify with me, you do not feel alone.
if you don’t see a friend in church on Sunday, you will whisper a prayer for her.
if you see someone who is hurting, you will reach out with the compassion of Jesus.
if you know someone who isn’t a mom yet, realize Mother’s Day may not be her favorite holiday.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4 says, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.”
I started Living Bellissima to be a community for women to support and encourage each other. If you need support or encouragement I am here for you.