Thoughts for Mother’s Day

During my adult years, Mother’s Day has been a bit awkward for me. 

Many churches have a custom where they have all the mothers in the building stand up, and they are each given a flower. Once a church did this, and I was the only woman on my row not standing. Since then, I tend not to go to church on Mother’s Day. 

I’m 41 and single. Chances are good I will never have a child of my own. I don’t have a mate with whom to have a child, nor do I have the financial means to consider alternatives. That is just facts. And while I have come to accept that, and to find joy in the stage of life that I am in, I still have trouble going to church on Mother’s Day. 

And I am not the only one who does. So many women either can’t have a child, or circumstances prevent them from doing so. Society, as a whole, is getting better with acknowledging that to many people, Mother’s Day may be a symbol of a dream lost, or a dream unfulfilled. Miscarriage and child loss is no longer the taboo topic it was even a generation ago.

I think of my closest friends, the four or five whom I hold dearest in the world. Every last one of them has experience loss related to motherhood: Either they have lost their mother, or had to say good-bye to a child (either by miscarriage or thereafter). And those whom I am not as close but still love dearly, I would say a conservative 75% have had some kind of loss. My own mother has lost both her mother and a child. Many women struggle with infertility. Every pregnancy test with one line, every Mother’s Day is a reminder of what they don’t have. Some mothers have children who are ill, or incarcerated. 

So, my message is to all these women for whom Mother’s Day is a source of pain: 

I see you. 

God sees you. 

I am praying for you. 

And if I could, I would give you a flower. And a hug. 

Be blessed.