It’s a good thing I put out the disclaimer yesterday that I don’t usually get spiritual in my writing. Did you read it? It’s all there in black and white, added shades of color brought to life with my personality, sprinkled in the resources. Today I’m sappy, sentimental, and spiritual, which means you get a rare piece of my heart that I don’t usually share. I’ve also come to realize that everyday is Mother’s Day and that we should seize each day.
- There were beautiful Mother’s Day moments this morning as the kids ran into your bed, gave sweet cuddles, and whispered “Happy Mother’s Day,” in your ear.
- When your feet hit the floor maybe getting ready was just a normal day of keeping everyone on task.
- Maybe your desire is to be a mother, and you feel that God is holding out on you. The most precious gift your heart desires is a child, but you hear, “wait.”
- Perhaps you are in the throes of motherhood, and feeling like you fall short. You don’t know how the kids will turn out, or if you will turn out okay after the rearing process.
- The empty nest syndrome is in full effect because the kids are grown and gone. Maybe there is even a grandchild, or two, or ten.
- Perhaps you’ve lost your mother and today you honor her memory.
I went to church this morning and was given this message. What does it mean? I looked it up. It’s about when Jesus’ birth was foretold, “The angel went to Mary and said, Luke 1:28:
“Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”
Do you think Mary was overjoyed at the announcement of her son? I bet she was.
I was overjoyed at waking up each day to see the face of my first born.
The notecard from church immediately reminded me of a Keith Urban song I used to sing to my youngest when she was a newborn, sleeping by my bedside, in a cradle. It’s a country love song, but I would roll over each morning and sing to her,
“Good morning beautiful, how was your night?
Mine was wonderful with you by my side
And when I open my eyes and see your sweet face
It’s a good morning beautiful day.”
She was the child we wanted for a long time. Four years, in fact. We were newly married, some would say we were still in the honeymoon phase, and we thought we were ready for parenthood. We had good jobs and a lot of college debt. I think God wanted us to grow up a little before blessing us with a child. We didn’t have our priorities in line with what we wanted out of life. My husband and I agreed that I would stay home with the girls while they are young, but we hadn’t taken the steps to make that happen.
Once we paid off all of our debt and knew that we could give up my income we moved towns, jobs, and houses. Little did we know the seed was growing inside me as we were moving into our new house and beginning our new life. Daily leaning on His word revealed that Sarah and Abraham waited 25 years for the gift of their child, and they wondered if they should be blessed in old age. Thanks goodness we didn’t have to wait that long, I don’t think my faith would have stood a quarter century.
K’s story gets more interesting. Not even my parents know how close she came to not entering this world. I was given a little too much medicine, I rode the train, ate fair food, and saw the purple pony, which later gave rise to the name of my embroidery business, Purple Pony Designs. I was in labor and she and I were both in trouble, but I didn’t know it. I can be slow, but the gig was up when the last number I saw on the heart monitor was 68. The nurse shut off the machine and pushed it away. Did they expect her not to make it? Not now, after all the wanting and preparation. Not after wanting her so badly. Her pregnancy had been healthy, but her entrance into the world was heavy laden. As my husband tells the story, 50 years earlier he would have had to choose which one of us would survive. A miracle was performed and we both lived.
The in between time…
…was a long freaking time and it sucked. My heart was torn out of my chest when we experienced my first miscarriage. I hadn’t recovered from it when we experienced our next, a short six months later. Little did we know there would be two more before that chapter of our story would be complete. It was the lowest point of my life.
In retrospect I have been able to help others because of those experiences. I don’t relish having gone through the pain, but I am glad something good can come from it. It is moving to cry with another woman who has lost a baby, and feel the pain and love of someone has has walked through the experience. I could easily write a book about coming out of the darkness, but it will remain a synopsis for now.
I lived in fear that we would never get to hold her living being. We had more medical knowledge, and knowledge was power. We lived eighteen hours away from any family, so no one knew anything more than I was getting pudgy. I was injecting myself with medicine twice a day.
Finally, after about 14 weeks, we let our parents in on our secret. It was also at this time the medical professionals let us know the risks, all held by the fetus until now, transferred to me. We waited until after 18 weeks before we let the information slip out publicly. We hoped and we prayed that we would get to hold this child, doubting it all the while.
Six years after the birth of our first daughter we headed to the hospital for the birth of our second, but there were no delusions about it being an easy experience. In the end her delivery was normal. After minor complications and the scare of a blood transfusion on a newborn, we came home with another baby girl, a week later.
Each Mother’s Day I reminisce about our journey to becoming a family and recall each story. Today wasn’t momentous, and it was all at the same time. We didn’t do anything extraordinary. We went out for breakfast before church. We came home, changed out of our dress clothes and put on comfy clothes, you know the kind that publicly pass for clothes, but could also be jammies. We wouldn’t have been anything like people of Wal-Mart, we would be classy in comparison. Beyond that we didn’t leave the house, but we did something really cool that helped me develop a metaphor for life.
Once in awhile we have a boil. It’s a lot like what it sounds. You throw the contents into a pot and boil them. We threw some sausage, veggies, corn on the cob, and seafood into the steamer pot, and added seasoning. Here’s where it gets really fun. We throw down a few pieces of newspaper, line it with wax paper, and dump it out in the middle of the table. We eat like kids, with our hands. No dishes, easy clean up, we connect, and get gooey together. It’s a lot like life.
Don’t wait for Mother’s Day to have a reason to connect with your loved ones. You can live Mother’s Day any day. Connect with those that matter and get gooey together.
What is your Mother’s Day, any day, special connection story? Please share it. In the meantime I’m sharing my special Mother’s Day cards, and a picture of my Mom.
Oh yeah, that featured image, the one up above, at the very beginning, it is a collage of treasures my girls have given me. It contains their handprints, footprints, tracings of their hands, a pinch pot, and a heart made of glued together beans. All those momentos are above my kitchen cabinet. They make me smile while I labor in the kitchen. They are gentle reminders of why we do what we do with diet in the kitchen.
To those who have children,
“May her children rise up and call her Blessed.” Proverbs 31:28