In anticipation of Mother's Day

Last night I was reading The Homewood Star and came across an article that could not have been better written. It was like the author took the thoughts right out of my head and put them on paper (in a much better fashion). I wanted to post the article because it's how I feel most days, not just this week.

Ordinary Days

A new way to celebrate Mother's Day

by Lauren Denton

Lately when I've been flipping around on Facebook, I've noticed a "Click if you like being a mommy" button. I love being a mommy, but I haven't clicked that button and I don't plan to. As Mother's Day approaches, there will no doubt be a plethora of status updates talking about gifts received from children. There may even be email chains floating around that talk about what a precious gift our own mothers are and how precious children are to those who are mothers. And these are all fine ways to show appreciation for our moms and friends who have kids. However, when I see them, and especially when I see the "Click here if you like being a mommy" button, my heart breaks a little for the lovely women I know who long to be mothers. I know way too many people who don't understand God's reasons for withholding children from them, even if it's just for a time, and I know exactly how they feel.

This year will be my second Mother's Day as a mother, but before Kate, I spent several wishing I were on the opposite side of childless. Mother's Day is designed to be a day of celebration, of honoring the ones who raised us, of thanking our moms for the sacrifices they made every day for us. I hadn't even begun to realize the sacrifices my own mom made for me until I had my own child, and I know I won't fully realize them until Kate progresses through all the stages I went through - stages my mother loved me through. Having a child helps us see our own mothers in a different light and hopefully causes us to be even more thankful for them. So, Mother's Day is and should be celebratory, but for those women who wish they had children of their own and don't, it can be a day tinged with sadness. Even when we know and believe that God has a plan for us - a very good plan - it still hurts to feel time slipping by without holding tiny baby hands or nuzzling a baby's soft, downy head.

Sometimes I can't help posting tidbits about Kate or photos of her frolicking in the den with her mini grocery cart and almost life-sized stuffed and polka-dotted hippopotamus. I rejoice that God blessed us with her, and I still find her presence in our lives almost magical when we waited and prayed for her for so long. But even as I click the upload button, I'm saying a silent "I'm sorry" to those women who may see my photos and feel any sadness.

It is for this reason that I won't click the "Mommy" button on Facebook. I know it's a small and silly thing, but it's my way of standing with those women, my friends, who are waiting for their babies.

So on this Mother's Day, here's to mothers of all kinds: those who raised us and sacrificed for us (and still sacrifice for us!); those who have cheered and cried with us; our friends with their own families to care for and raise; those whose babies are already waiting for them in heaven; those who out of special kind of love have taken foster children into their home or adopted children as their own; and those who know deep down in their bones that God has a wonderful child chosen for them that He just hasn't introduced yet.

Have a great week,

Samantha