Mother's Day...What a Doozie!

Mother’s Day… I thought I saw you coming. I had prepared myself mentally that Mother’s Day would be rough, but I guess I didn’t prepare quite enough. I thought maybe if I thought about all of the next day’s events ahead of time, I would be able to swallow it all a little easier when I actually had to face them. I thought if I cried enough Saturday night, then maybe, just maybe there wouldn’t be any tears left on Sunday. Fail! Instead I just got two crying headaches, one headache for Saturday’s tears and one for Sunday’s. That plan was a bust.

All the books, blogs, and infertility e-couragement emails said Mother’s Day would be hard. But dang, it’s a doozie.

I originally had planned on skipping church since Brad was still working the TPC and I didn’t want to endure the Mother’s Day service alone. But several of our closest friends were having their babies dedicated during the service. I decided I wanted to be there for them and be there as the church prayed over their children. I wanted to be there to support them in their special day and be there as a part of the church body promising to minister to these children. I told our friend Adam that I would rather be there to support our friends and be sad, than be sad and miss out all together. And so I went…

I texted my mom and told her that I wouldn’t be able to call her until after lunch. I knew if I called her before church I would be in tears before I even got there (She lives out of state). She graciously understood. I made prior arrangements to sit with our dear friends, the Curry’s, and my mother-in-law, Cindy. I strategically sat at the end of a row, so I could escape if need be. Jeff Curry asked where I wanted to sit, and I replied, “Somewhere escapable.” Haha. As we sat waiting for the service to start, I could feel the tears finding their way up from my aching heart. Dang it! I thought I’d dried them all up. I really didn’t want to call attention to myself and didn’t want people looking at me, the less attention, the better. Then the music started and there was no holding back the tears. Our music minister, Matt, was incredibly gracious and sensitive to the fact that Mother’s Day might not be a celebration for some. Some might be mourning the death of a child, some might be mourning the fact that their children are no longer walking with the Lord, or some may be mourning a broken relationship with their child. I truly appreciated that. I opened the bulletin and was relieved to see that the sermon wasn’t about the biblical role of mother and wife … or anything remotely like that. Even though they are lies from satan, I know that sometimes we feel like because we can’t bear children (or have trouble doing so) that we don’t have a purpose. It is in our nature to nurture, and we are commanded to be, “…fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1:22). To fall short of that, feels like a huge failure. So thank you, Doug (our pastor), for not twisting the dagger! I think I held myself together pretty well until I saw all of our friends line up on stage holding their precious gifts. It was very surreal. My heart was overwhelmed with gladness for them and thankful I came to be there as the church prayed over their children, but tears streamed down my face as my heart shattered into a million pieces. I wanted to be up there with them. I felt like I was on the shoreline and they were passing by on a great big ship making their passage into the next phase of life, and I was grasping for a rope asking the Lord to have the ship wait for us. “Why can’t we be standing up there?” “What did we do wrong?” “Were we not faithful enough?” “Why were they given the gift of life and we have been put on hold?”

But God was extremely gracious. I couldn’t have made it through what I did without the people who were standing next to me. I think the Curry’s and Cindy were literally holding me up. I felt so loved. I know that they were praying for me and catching my tears. It was extremely humbling. And again, very surreal. That is the body of Christ, “If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together” (1 Corn. 12:26). We were rejoicing for our brothers and sisters in Christ, but also sharing in suffering all at the same time.

Immediately after the baby dedications, I ESCAPED! (I know some of you are thinking, “Ahh…you should have stayed. The sermon, The Hope of Comfort, would have been perfect for you!” Don’t worry, I plan to download it as soon as it is posted and listen to it in the privacy of my own car). We stepped into Cindy’s office for a minute and I am so glad we did. There were some very sweet friends who popped in to give me a hug and let me know that they were praying for me. Again, I felt so loved.

I ate lunch with Hugh’s family and it was a great distraction. I also got a couple goodies while I was there: two little basil plants, a few mint plants, and a cool little pot. Some might think that is not so cool…but I love plants and herbs for some reason and it made me so happy. It’s the little things. Thanks, Grandma for sharing your herb plants. J

When I arrived home, there were neon letters, a note, balloons, a cookie cake, and coupons to Yoga Berry (I LOVE frozen yogurt or ice cream in any form…and coupons for that matter). And the tears were back. My high school small group left me the most encouraging note. It was food to my soul. Again, I felt so loved. It was enough encouragement to get me through my next adventure.

I had to go to my favorite place, the grocery store, and get food for the week. Only to be shopping with ALL men! What the heck, man? Even the grocery store was a challenge. I was surrounded by a bunch of lost puppies and their kiddos walking around aimlessly attempting to buy the perfect ingredients for the special dinners they were making for their wives and mothers. Yes, there were women in the store, but I was obviously extra sensitive to all the men and their children. The Deli line was a ghost town; mothers must have taken the day off. Goodness, slightly ridiculous, I know, but still that was my Mother’s Day grocery store experience and I thought someone would appreciate hearing about it. J

Around 11 pm, I was already nestled in bed after a great dinner with Cindy’s parents when Brad finally arrived home from his 9 day TPC “ecology” venture, aka ‘trash duty.” I opened the bedroom door to find him standing there sweaty, sunburned, covered in trash and holding a garbage bag of random flowers that he found at the TPC. It was a sweet moment for me. I wish I could have taken a picture. I guess the picture is burned in my mind in the form of a memory. He stood there and grinned, like he hoped these flowers would suffice. I did some trimming and arranged the flowers in a vase. Brad was even impressed that the half wilted hodge podge had turned into a beautiful bouquet. I couldn’t have picked prettier flowers. I am so thankful for him and I am so glad to have him back! Brad, thank you for remembering my longing to be a mother after your incredibly long and tiring week. I don’t know where you found those flowers, but they were perfect. I love you.

I couldn’t have made it through the day with out the body of Christ, family, and friends. Thank you for all the ways that you all reached out to me…every hug, gesture, text message, and email helped me put one foot in front of the other.

On a less selfish note… Happy Mother’s Day to both of our moms! We both were blessed with such incredible moms and we are so thankful for them. They mean the world to us and I can only hope that I have the opportunity to be half the mother they both have been to us. Love you both!!