Torn

I feel very torn about tomorrow. It's Mother's Day you know. A day I have celebrated every year for 28 years because I have the most amazing mother ever. A mother who birthed me breech with no epidural. A mother who reassured me over and over that I would make friends when we moved to a new town the summer before third grade, and no matter how many times I told her I was destined to live a friends free life from the age of 8 on, she kept promising I would make friends. (She was right.) A mother who told me day after day to not throw my backpack inside the door of my bedroom because someday I would trip over it and hurt myself. A mother who chased me around the house with a lima bean, straight into my bedroom, where I tripped over the backpack laying just inside my bedroom door and I fell and almost broke my arm. A mother who stayed home with me while I was sick and would always buy me juice, because for some odd reason that is always what I crave when I am sick. A mother who when sick with me would have thermometer races to see who had the higher temperature and had to be the other person's servant for the next hour. A mother who forgave me when painting the basement and told me not to step in the paint as I came down off the ladder, and I promptly put my whole foot straight into the paint trough. A mother who encouraged and supported every single decision I had to make throughout all the infertility procedures. And a mother who let me sit on her couch for a whole day after the miscarriage and just cry. A mother who once again has supported every decision I have made through the adoption of my phenomenal son. So yes, I have an extraordinary mother who I am honored to celebrate tomorrow, although her gift will probably be late... sorry mom. You know I'm REALLY bad at mailing things, but I did get a card at least so that should give me some bonus points :)

But that is not why I am torn. I am torn because tomorrow will be the first day that I get to "celebrate" Mother's Day for myself. "Shouldn't that make you thrilled?" you may be asking yourself. And the answer is yes. Of course I am thrilled that we finally have our son. That I have been able to be his mother for 6 months already. There is honestly nothing that I am prouder of then being his mother. But it still hurts because I know the pain that so many others are going to feel tomorrow. I know the longing to be able to celebrate Mother's Day. How badly it hurts to have all your friends posting pictures tomorrow of their Mother's Day gifts. Pictures of them with their children and their handmade presents. I know the confusion of having suffered a miscarriage and not knowing if you are even allowed to feel like a mother on Mother's Day. I know that there are many of my friends that are going to be in one or both of those situations tomorrow and so for them my heart hurts.

The thing with infertility, and I think I've said this before, is that for the most part it is a silent sadness. If someone loses their job or even just has a big test, they post it on Facebook and ask for prayers. But how often do you see prayers for the friend who can't conceive? Or the lady who found out her baby stopped growing? You often don't, because people don't talk about infertility. It is a taboo subject that people are afraid to speak about. So women, and even men, go on suffering alone.

Of course tomorrow I am going to squeeze Keegan and be so very thankful of him and A, who without her I wouldn't even have this opportunity to celebrate Mother's Day. I am going to use the day to be thankful for everyone who helped get me to this Mother's Day. Everyone who encouraged us, listened to me, held me while I cried, and prayed so very hard for us. But I am also going to be thinking about all of those women who are silently suffering. So for every women out there I want to let you know that even though it may not be broadcast on your Facebook page tomorrow, I'm thinking of you. You WILL be a mother if you want to be. Rather through birth, adoption, or helping take care of a niece, nephew, cousin, younger brother or sister as they grow. Anytime you are helping a child become a better person I feel that you are doing the job of a mother. So this is for you: