Mother's Day 2015

My first Mother's Day.  Even though this was my first, I had so many emotions swirling around that weren't all what one might expect.  I was most certainly happy and grateful to be a parenting mama this year, instead of still waiting to hold my baby in my arms.  But I was also reserved and reflective.  Once you've felt something different for a much celebrated day, once you know the pain that is associated with it, or know how much ache it can cause, there really is no way to forget it.

Don't get me wrong, we had a great day.  Col had asked me what I wanted to do prior to the day, and of the suggestions I came up with, we completed them all.  After church the three of us went to breakfast, a delicious diner breakfast just like I wanted (the toast always tastes better at diners, don't you agree?).  Once home, Ephraim took a nap and Col ran an errand, so I treated myself to catching up on one of my shows (but also couldn't neglect the laundry no matter how much I told myself to let it go ;)).  Col wrote me a sweet card and framed two photos of Ephraim and I for my desk at work.  One was the first time I held him, the day we met him when he was two days old.  The other was a recent favorite mommy and Bubs selfie.  We made it to the Lilac Festival and saw the crafts before it down poured.  And we completed the day by meeting my parents for ice cream at a local fave in my hometown.  It was simple but wonderful, mostly because Col didn't have to work and I spent the day with my boys.

But a part of me was remembering how hard it was to go to church and see the sweet Mother's Day video.  A part of me was remembering the "Happy Mother's Day!" exclamations being tossed around, the celebrations, the posts on Facebook.  A part of me was remembering the thoughtful acknowledgements by dear friends who had sent me texts and notes last year saying how they saw me as a mom in every way, a mom who just didn't have her baby yet.  

A part of me was remembering the pain of those who weren't able to celebrate with their moms, family and friends included.  I remembered my grandma.  

A part of me was remembering those who had lost children, in and outside of the womb and who felt like moms (and are, always and forever), but who also might not have been acknowledged as such.  

Most of all, I remembered the ache of waiting, of adoption loss, of the little girl, our first match, who is now a year and 7 months old, her sweet mom, and Ephraim's birth mom.  

I prayed all those who were struggling with the day had comfort, support, a friend to listen even if they didn't understand the pain.  And I pray that I can be that friend to those who are waiting, who feel the pain of loss, who wish they could just hide in their house all day and pretend it was any other day.

I felt a lot today, but I also felt grateful, blessed, and content.  And thankful that God allows us to experience multiple emotions and empathy, that our past pain is a part of who we are today, and that we can celebrate it, in my case, with a chunky 7 month old.