Reflections on Mother's Day

I am blessed.
I have a healthy daughter.
I have a healthy son.

As I think back over the past 9 Mother's Day's, the nine that I've been married, so many different thoughts and emotions rise. The first few were joyful, celebrating my Mom and Mother-in-law. The next few, I'd say the 3rd and 4th were dreaded. We were living in Germany, attending the base chapel. For both those years I was in the middle of a battle. A battle with infertility, resentment, and self-doubt. As all young girls, I had always thought that being a Mother was something I would do. Now I was wondering if my dream would ever come true. Did the Lord think that I wouldn't make a good Mom? Had I done something to cause all of this. Of course the answers were yes to the first and no the latter, but I was convinced that it wasn't going to happen for us. I was sick of all the shots, medicine and icky feelings. I had gained 30 lbs of "infertility" weight. I felt like the "odd man out" with other military wives. Everyone my age was either pregnant or already had a child or two.

I remember Mother's Day 2004 as clear as day. We were at the base chapel for church and the chaplain asked all the Mothers to stand and be recognized. All the women around me stood up...I was surrounded. I remember bursting into tears and holding on to my seat in order to not run out.

It would be almost two more years of infertility treatment, tears and prayers before my longing for motherhood would be fulfilled.

When I look back to all of those years I see God's hand in ALL OF IT. God knew exactly when Isabella Claire and Jack Steven needed to enter this world. IT WASN'T ABOUT ME...God has a plan for my children, the people they will meet, their own spouses.

This Mother's Day is full of celebration. My dear friend is celebrating Mother's Day as a new Mommy...someone who suffered that pain of infertility. But I also think of my other dear friends who dread this day, surrounded by what the day means.

I am currently reading Laura Bush's biography Spoken from the Heart. She too suffered from years of infertility and wrote this passage in the first part of the book:

The English language lacks the words to mourn an absence. For the loss of a parent, grandparent, spouse, child, or friend, we have all manner of words and phrases, some helpful, some not. Still, we are conditioned to say something, even if it is only "I am sorry for your loss." But for an absence, for someone who was never there at all, we are wordless to capture that particular emptiness. For those who deeply want children and are denied them, whose missed babies hover like silent, ephemeral shadows over their lives. Who can describe the feel of a tiny hand that is never held?

I am blessed! And pray for the blessing of Motherhood for those who wait.