When Mother's Day is complicated

On the eve of Mother's Day, I am acutely aware of my own mothering privilege.

With my mom and sister
before the women's march
I am exceedingly fortunate to have a supportive, loving, amazing mom who loved me even before I was born and whose love has never diminished in these 52 years. And I'm also very lucky to have three great kids who love me and tell me so every day!

One Mother's Day many years ago, a friend spoke truth at our church, where we have a tradition of hearing from mothers or children on that holiday, and bravely told us about how she disliked Mother's Day because of her own difficult relationship with her mother. It was raw, honest, authentic, and real. So many of my friends are in this situation. It was a great reminder that this day is not all roses and Hallmark cards.

Summer after my first
Mother's Day
I've had my own share of hard Mother's Days. Like my first Mother's Day, when we finally took our fragile 24-weeker out in public to church. We'd waited until winter had passed and he was less susceptible to catching respiratory synctitial virus, which could kill him. We were so happy to introduce him to our church friends. But I remember the brunch at my parents' house, when I was trying to get him to eat. I was in tears, and he was in tears. He suffered from reflux, so eating was probably painful and uncomfortable with him. But I felt intense pressure to pack calories into him. I was deathly afraid that he would be labeled "failure to thrive." Not the best memories from my first Mother's Day! And then there were more difficult Mother's Days during my season of losses through miscarriage, when I wondered if I'd ever be able to carry a child to term. 

Ever since infertility and coming to know parents who'd lost children--and also knowing many close friends have difficult relationships with their moms--I've become sensitized to the complexity of Mother's Day. So here's to all the people who will not be sending or receiving happy Hallmark cards on this holiday:
  • Mothers whose children have died, in utero or after birth
  • Children whose mothers have hurt them verbally or physically
  • Mothers who rarely hear from their children or feel disconnected from them
  • Mothers who've lost children for other reasons--estrangement, drug use, or other reasons
  • Children who have lost their mothers through death or estrangement
  • Women who have never been able to have children
  • Mothers with babies in the NICU or PICU
  • Moms whose children are ill or dying
  • Moms like my friend Katie who have answered the call of being a foster mom
  • People whose moms have died, especially in the past year
  • Moms who are terminally ill and know they will not be able to see their children reach certain milestones
  • Mothers who worry about their children, especially those who are affected by drug use, depression and anxiety, or mental illness
  • Women who were sexually abused by family members and their moms did not believe them or worse, blamed them
  • Mothers in prison who are unable to care for their children (and cheers to Black Lives Matter for raising money for women in prison to be able to pay their bail!)
You are loved, you are valued, you are worthy. I am holding you all in my heart as you endure this difficult day.

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