Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day was yesterday, and I hope you had the day you wanted, rather you spent it hanging with your kids, running away and giving yourself a much-deserved break, celebrating your own mother or binging on the newest Netflix series. (By the way, whatever you happened to do is totally okay and nothing you did or didn't do is wrong, no matter what day it is, please remember that.
Mother’s Day has been hard on me for the last 24 years.
On May 8, 1998, after not feeling well for a few days my husband took me to the doctor only to be told that our second child had lost her heartbeat and that I was losing her.
I was devastated, I remember walking out of the office with my face downcast to avoid the sympathetic office staff’s eyes. I don’t remember the drive home, but I remember walking in the door and without a word taking my sleeping one year old out of my mother-in-law’s arms, walking into his room and closing the door behind us. I sat in that rocking chair letting my tears fall on his little body until the sun set and the room had gone dark.
That little guy was the only person I wanted to interact with on any level, he was my sole support not only that day but the days following, as well. I found comfort in caring for him; in our daily routines I found solace in my grief.
I have three adult children now (25, 23 and 20), their father and I have been their support system since the day they were each born. However, what I’ve found as they get older is they seem to be my support in some of the most simply beautiful ways. From a phone call on their way home from work asking me how my day was, a trip home for the weekend just because, or a text telling me they’re proud of me when I step outside of my comfort zone.
We are given these beautiful people to “raise up in the way they should go” and while so many times I’ve found myself feeling as if I’ve fallen incredibly short of that goal. What I see as I look at these three loving, caring, empathetic, amazing humans is that evidently, I did a pretty dadgumn good job supporting them because they support me more than I could have ever dreamed.
Mother’s Day is still hard but at least I have proof that God’s plans are always better than our own.