Mother's Day

It has been far too long since I blogged. I'll try to do better.

Sunday, of course, was Mother's Day. I always knew that it would be a difficult day, but I hoped that since I was going to be in Birmingham with family it would be easier. I was flooded with various emotions.

We went to my parents' church. I had contemplated what I would do leading up to the event that occurs every Mother's Day--the recognition of all moms in the room. Kyle and I had discussed whether or not I should stand. I know in my heart that I am a mother, but I don't have a child here on earth to display. I also didn't want to give the impression that I was pregnant, because I'm not. This Sunday, though, the mother recognition was preceded by baby dedication. I was not expecting this.

Parents lined the stage and overflowed to the floor with their babies dressed in Sunday best. They were flanked on each side by siblings of the baby. The preschool minister introduced each family and baby, stated the meaning of the baby's name, and recited a companion scripture to the name meaning. I wanted so desperately to enjoy the moment and laugh with the rest of the congregation at the antics of a few babies and preschoolers. I couldn't though. I broke down in tears. And the thoughts that kept running through my head related to keeping my composure since we hadn't had the greeting yet. I didn't want anyone to feel awkward shaking the hand of a woman with red-rimmed eyes and a nose reddened by crying.

When it came time for mothers to stand, I sat. Part of me feels ashamed for sitting there and not standing--not acknowledging the baby that Kyle and I lost. I later explained to Kyle that motherhood seemed like a club that I desperately wanted to join, but I didn't meet all of the qualifications.

Later at my parents' house, before we left to return to Texas, I wished both of my grandmothers a happy Mother's Day. My mother's mother (who can be a little overwhelming and difficult at times) hugged my neck fiercely and told me happy Mother's Day. She told me that my two babies count just as much. She is the first person and the only person to ever wish me a happy Mother's Day. And surprisingly, it felt good to hear it.

I struggle with how to deal with the emotions that I feel. I honestly long to weep and not feel ashamed at my tears, but there never seems to be an appropriate time. Whenever I do get teary, I fight it down. Even as I write this I yearn to openly cry, and I don't mean with gentle tears rolling down my face. I mean the type of cry with heaving sobs. But I haven't let myself do that in a while. It always just feels like this pressure in my chest waiting for the opportunity to be released. And I still suppress it.

The challenge I face is knowing when to move on. I still don't know if it's okay to cry and weep for that which I lost, or if I should be over that by now. I don't know if it's okay to long desperately for a child which continues to be out of my grasp. When do I stop being sad? When do I start feeling like normal? Maybe I'll never get to that point again. Maybe now I'm a member of a club that not many women want to be a part of.

So, this post is in honor of all the women who long to stand with the other mother's at church. This post is in honor of the women who weep tears of sadness during baby dedication. Happy Mother's Day to you (even though it's two days late). We are tightly knitted together by the ache in our hearts for the children we've never met.

And yet I know, my God is good. He loves me. He is faithful and merciful. I call on Him and He delivers me from all my fear.