For the last few years, I’ve really struggled on Mother’s Day. Not because my own mother isn’t amazing but because I want to be a mother so badly and seeing other women my age with children and taking part in this holiday as a mom, not as a daughter, is unbearable to me.
This morning at church our pastor started his sermon with “Happy Mother’s Day – thank you for all that you do” and my stomach turned. I’d kind of forgotten about the inevitable sermon and happiness that ensues. But then he immediately followed that statement by acknowledging that this is a really difficult day for some. It’s difficult for those who had not so great or absent mothers, it’s difficult for those who are trying desperately to have children and cannot (for whatever reason). But what made me sure that this is the church that I’m supposed to be at is that the second reason he stated was that “it’s difficult for a woman who feels called in her heart to be a mom but still hasn’t met her husband.”
I feel like we get forgotten on Mother’s Day. While people do acknowledge that it is a hard day, they usually only remember the first two groups that I mentioned and those of us who know in our hearts that we are meant to have children but the timing hasn’t worked out and we haven’t met our soul mate yet are often left out.
Mother’s Day is another reason why I’m glad that I’m not on Facebook anymore. I love my Mom more than I can put into words and I hope she knows that but I just can’t handle all the posts about being a new mom or how your two-year-old did something sweet for you without bursting into tears.
I spent the evening with my mom, aunt (her sister) and my sister; we ate a delicious grilled chicken Cesar salad, fresh baked bread and had some lovely Sara Lee pound cake and ice cream (the second option after my homemade ice cream experiment failed twice) on my patio enjoying the gorgeous weather and fresh new flowers that I just potted. It was a gorgeous day. And I got to spend time with my mom and tell her that I love her but I also felt loved and acknowledged for my heart break at not being a mom.
1. being asked by our CFO to develop an application specifically for him
2 .meeting my neighbor Bill who had the kindest of words to say about my grandfather (whom he’d had several conversations with when he would come over to work on my yard)
3. my super helpful neighbors Tim and Amanda who lent me their mower to finish my lawn after I choked my own one time too may
4. a beautiful God filled day of sunshine and warmth
5. my amazing mom – I don’t know what I’d do without her and I hope I don’t have to find out anytime soon.
I had a meltdown in the middle of my backyard this afternoon. My lawn is absolutely overwhelming me right now and I miss my grandfather more than ever. He would come over and mow my lawn in the middle of the day and then I would come home to find the lawn mowing fairy had magically taken care of it while I was at work. I miss my grandfather so much that I can’t even express it. He just made everything better. Even in my 30s, he could just fix things for me and dry my tears and life would be okay again. I wish I had children who could have met him.
I called my mom in tears. I feel like I can’t complain about how hard it is to do some of these things alone because I chose to buy a big house. I chose to have a big yard. I could have chosen a condo or a house in a maintenance provided community. But I didn’t and thus I have to live with the consequences of my choices. But it is hard sometimes to do these things all alone. Sometimes there just isn’t time in the day to get them done. And in those moments, I grieve for the husband who isn’t by my side. And I don’t mean that a husband takes care of the yard word – just that a husband is a partner, someone to help carry the load of life and a house.
My choices have gotten me where I am and maybe those choices are the reason that I’m not married and don’t have a family; maybe those choices set my life adrift on a different course than God initially planned and He’s had to “re-calculate” my route on a different path. I have a feeling that this path is a little harder and more painful that He originally intended for me but that pain is of my own doing and I will bear the consequences because at least the end result will be the same – a place in Heaven.
I’m waiting for the day when someone says to me “I’m engaged!” or “I’m pregnant!” and my heart leaps for joy with no trace of jealousy, anger or sadness.
I’m waiting for the moment when my heart doesn’t sink and tears don’t well up in my eyes upon hearing those words.
I’m waiting for the time when I can embrace that person and not hide my own pain and anguish at their joy.
I’m waiting to stop feeling guilty for having these feelings because they will no longer exist in my heart.
I’m waiting for God to lead my heart to where He wants me to be instead of where I am.
I’m waiting to not just pretend to be okay but actually be okay with my current situation and the very real possibility of not having my own children.
I’m ready for the waiting to end.
A friend asked me to make a Mickey Mouse cake for her son’s second birthday. She’s really good about finding an image on the web and then I recreate it (usually with a little artistic liberty) and the result is usually pretty fantastic.