Two years ago, I sat proud during church and told myself it would be the last Mother’s Day I would experience without being a mother. We had just signed and became active with our agency two months earlier, and we were so confident that Baby M would come home that year. It didn’t help that most people we spoke to affirmed our desires to adopt that summer. It also didn’t help that most of our friends were becoming mothers for the first time that spring and summer of waiting. We were so sure that it was our time, and that no one deserved a baby more than us.
Well as you all know, God’s timing didn’t match up with ours.
Looking back over the first year of waiting, I can see how God began preparing us to be parents. All of the things we hadn’t figured out, that were out of our control, God was working out for us.
One year ago, Mother’s Day weekend snuck up on me and affected me more than I could of ever predicted. Most of my friends who were mothers or planned on becoming mothers all had a Mother’s Day brunch together. For the first time, I realized that my journey to motherhood has been almost invisible. It is not acknowledged like the traditional route to parenthood. I do not have the positive pregnancy test, the gender reveal party, the pre-natal classes or the growing bump to prove my motherhood.
It sent me down a deep dark hole that I could not climb out of for days. For months I had been dealing with our infertility and waiting in such a positive and God-centered way that I could only say was by the grace of God. I would be asked at baby showers and baby birthday parties about how I kept my composure and didn’t break down at my own longing and emptiness. And honestly, my personal struggles and longings have never been impacted by those already blessed with families. Which is why Mother’s Day weekend and my response came as such a shock.
This year, as you all know, Mother’s Day holds so much hope and promise for me. Baby M has yet to enter the world, but motherhood is just around the corner. But this Mother’s Day I also feel the loss for our expectant mother, who is making the ultimate sacrifice so that my arms will be full next Mother’s Day, and hers will be empty.
Motherhood, for me, will never look the same as most people. I would love to say that I have fully come to terms with that, but I am still human. Even now, I have to convince myself that I deserve the same things all traditional mothers have, and that even though my journey to motherhood looks different than most, I am no less a mother than them.
This Mother’s Day, thank the women in your life who have shaped you, inspire you, and sacrifice themselves daily for their children. But also think of the women who are still waiting for their baby, who have struggled with their infertility and longing, who have felt the unbearable loss of a child. And think of the men who stand with them on this impossible day, who support and encourage them, and feel the loss just as much.
Happy Mother’s Day