Muffins with Mom

Muffins with Mom

First Baptist Church Weekday Education

May 8, 2009

I am so blessed to have three wonderful males in my life...the two above (who never seem to look at the camera at the same time...EVER!) and my wonderful husband. There were several years of our lives that we thought it would be just the two of us...and now our cup overflows...I'm always mindful of women suffering from infertility around Mother's Day. I remember how hard that day used to be for me...not only because I wasn't a mother but also because I had lost my mother...it all seemed so unfair. My friend and sorority sister, Betsy Veach Swenson, wrote this article in Mother's Day 2007 for a newspaper she worked for the time...she couldn't have said it any better...

******************************* My Mother's Day was lovely. I was greeted with breakfast in bed by an adorable husband and an even more adorable (if that's possible), curly-haired baby. We went to church, where I received a carnation and stood with all of the other mothers to a round of applause. The rest of the day was spent lounging on the couch, reading magazines and resting while my husband tended to the baby, folded laundry, prepped meals and cleaned the kitchen. Lovely. It wasn't long ago, though, that Mother's Day was hard. Painful, even. I remember, just three years ago, sitting in the congregation at church while all of the mothers around me were asked to stand for a moment of recognition. I clapped along with everyone else, because that's what you're supposed to do. And I blinked back tears because I could not join them. After two years of "trying" and four miscarriages along the way, I wasn't sure if I ever would. But this year I did--join them, I mean. And I found myself shifting my weight uncomfortably when asked to stand. My eyes darted around the sanctuary, and I realized I was looking for her--for the woman like me, three years ago. I know she was there--somebody like her was there. I find myself uncomfortable with being honored on Mother's Day, as if I'm being celebrated for my good luck. It's a hard job sometimes, parenting my son, but it is a job I am fortunate to have been given. I am honored to mother him; I am humbled to nurture such a precious life and watch it grow. This Mother's Day, more than anything, I felt grateful for this gift of motherhood--a gift I do not deserve, one I did not earn, and yet it is mine. For now, it is mine. How I wish motherhood were available to everyone who wanted it. But it doesn't work that way. Motherhood doesn't always come to those who are deserving, to those who long for a child. Why it falls into the laps of some women and remains elusive for others, I will never understand. But I do understand the yearning. I understand the sadness. And last week, I thought of those women who were hurting on Mother's Day, for those women who are still waiting for the moment when they will be called "Mom." That was me, not so very long ago, and I remember.