I recently read an article about Mother's Day that resonated with me.
Day and I have a hit-and-miss relationship. Some years, I haven't
really thought about adoption at all. Other years, Mother's Day has been
terribly difficult. Unfortunately, this year seems to be one of the
These are some of the things I struggle with, come Mother's Day:
the acknowledgment of mothers make me (selfishly) crave that
recognition. But while I am not secretive about my placement, it's not
something I speak of often. I work with children, and I don't find it
appropriate to discuss in my workplace. I haven't told my in-laws. And
in general, it's just not something I speak of on a regular basis. That
said, when Mother's Day rolls around, I feel sadly excluded. I want to talk about motherhood. I want to celebrate the fruit of my womb. I want to be recognized for the sacrifice I made. But I remain silent.
-Mother's Day makes me miss Ian. Or rather, the idea
of Ian. The idea of that child who I chose not to raise. I do not
regret that choice. But my arms ache sometimes for the child I lost.
-It also gives rise to the intense, desperate craving that I have to truly
be a mother--to bear and raise children of my own. I am hopeful that
this desire will not be long in coming to me. But every year around
Mother's Day, even now that I am happily married, I feel a terrible fear
rise within me--the fear that I will not be able to bear any more
children. That something will go wrong, that I am broken, that I will
never experience the glorious gift of pregnancy and childbirth for my
own sake, rather than on behalf of another family.
know that it will be okay. I have felt the reassurance of friends, loved
ones, and my Father in Heaven again and again. But every once and
awhile, I feel like there's no shame in admitting (to the blogosphere,
at least) that I am sad, and grieving, and afraid. I know that I will be
okay--but for now, I am simply allowing myself to feel.