Please note: This was a post I have struggled to publish.
I have not used this blog too often to put too much personal information out there,
but after studying about unity and maturity in the body of Christ through Ephesians, I knew I needed to be authentic. I hope you accept the following with open arms, knowing that I am bearing my very soul to you.Not many people know the struggle that I have faced, but I am beginning to realize that it's important to share in each other's burdens.
SO here I bear my burdens, sharing with you in my heartache, that I might also encourage you, bearing your burdens as my own.
Today is Mother's Day.
I have not used this blog too often to put too much personal information out there,
but after studying about unity and maturity in the body of Christ through Ephesians, I knew I needed to be authentic. I hope you accept the following with open arms, knowing that I am bearing my very soul to you.Not many people know the struggle that I have faced, but I am beginning to realize that it's important to share in each other's burdens.
SO here I bear my burdens, sharing with you in my heartache, that I might also encourage you, bearing your burdens as my own.
Today is Mother's Day.
Growing up, I never dreamed that this day could be associated with anything but happiness, joy, and thankfulness. When we experienced the miscarriage of our only baby on October 31st 2014, bracing myself for Mother's Day was something I didn't think to do. With the pain of my loss and everything on my plate with Christmas just around the corner, this seemingly distant holiday was not on my mind. But regardless if I was prepared or not, it arrived the following May as scheduled, and it knocked me on my butt.
There were many people who said "Happy Mother's Day" in assumption. I was a 28 year old married woman. Why wouldn't I be a mother by now, right?
There were people who knew I wasn't a mother and badgered me about having a baby, telling me how my clock was ticking and that I was running out of time.
Some made comments to the effect of "Just become a mother so you can celebrate with us!"
Then, of course, I was witness to a barrage of friends celebrating their first and second Mother's Day with their newborns and toddlers... all friends of which are my age. My Instagram feed lit up with photos of flowers and gifts hash-tagged with "thankful" and "blessed".
I was even appointed to be the one to hand out the yearly gifts to all the mothers at church because they needed a non-mother to do it. Being in leadership, I put on my biggest smile, passed out each gift, looked into the eye of every mother and wished them a happy Mother's Day. The glint of pride in each set of eyes, was like another needle into my heart.
I'm sure none of the comments I received were made maliciously, and I in no way fault anyone for displaying and announcing their blessings for the world to admire and share in rejoice, but you could imagine the devastating power each blow had to my now barren uterus.
I struggled with thoughts of why... I asked God why He had allowed all these women this precious gift of motherhood, yet had taken mine away. Since before Nathan and I married, I longed to be a stay at home mother. I've wanted to be the caregiver of the product of the third greatest love I've ever been afforded (God, My Mother, My Husband). I've wanted to feel that joy and I've wanted to experience that right of passage as a woman. I've wanted to be a mother and not long after I discovered I would be one, I found myself suddenly without.
I was an unmother.
And with the added weight of the Mother's Day frenzy upon me, I cracked beneath my smile.
I cried for awhile until God granted me relief enough to pick up and continue on in His will. We were reassured of His promise for us to bare a child naturally despite my body's objections and we began to prepare ourselves for the miracle we knew was coming. We readied our hearts and began to ready our home.
Then today came.
Just as I felt progress being made within my heart, today happened.
It has been over a year and I thought with all the progress we've made and the joy in my heart, Mother's Day would not affect me the way it did last year. I was wrong. I attended church this morning, greeting people as I entered and I headed towards the classroom to get set up for children's church. We were still unsure if the pastor wanted it to commence on this special holiday, but I prepared just the same. It wasn't until I completed my set up and had written "the Great Commission" on the white board that I looked up to see the banner the children from our guest church had made. Brightly painted hand prints and names written beside them with the same tiny hands. I felt it swell up inside me and I begin to break down. Not even a minute later my husband entered the room, set aside his agenda, and wrapped his arms around me. The floodgates had opened and I sobbed into his chest for several minutes. He rubbed my back and told me it was okay... and although those words seem so simple, they were exactly what I needed to hear in that moment.
"It's okay. I know. It's okay."
I composed myself enough to get through song service in which I sang, and the composure lasted throughout the service (no children's church after all) until the dreaded moment had arrived. I remembered this moment from last year. As the pastor began to call all the mothers up, I looked at Nathan and said, "I hope she doesn't ask me to do it. It kills me." No later than the words had escaped my mouth, I was called upon to be the non-mother that handed out the gifts to all the mothers of the church. I did as I was asked, and just as the year before, I put on my biggest smile, passed out each gift, looked into the eye of every mother and wished them a happy Mother's Day. It hadn't gotten any easier.
What had happened to this day I once looked forward to? The festivities were mere reminders that I was not allowed to join in. I was not a mother, but not only that, I was an unmother. I was a mother who's heart leaped for joy at the expectation of her baby... a mother robbed of her motherhood before she even had a chance to meet her child, to kiss her baby's little cheeks, or feel her baby's fingers tightly wrap around her own. It did't matter how long that life was in me... there was LIFE. IN. ME. No one saw me as a mother. I had no child to prove that I once held life inside me. My oven was broken and everyone sat around me with their loaves of bread asking me why I haven't baked yet.
I reiterate that I know none of the comments I received were made maliciously, and I in no way fault anyone from being joyous and thankful on Mother's Day... but what I am saying is...
If there's an unmother in your life, someone who has lost a child before birth or before the annual thanking of mothers, let her know that you're thinking about her. Take some time and show her that you're there for her. She needs to know that she's not alone. She needs to know that you understand that even though her child isn't alive today, she is still a giver of life. Speak life into her. Instead of joking around, maybe give her some words of encouragement. Let her know that you are praying for God's will in her life. Be careful not to say that you're praying for a child for her, but instead simply let her know that God's will is most important. Tell her that sometimes God doesn't always share what His plans are, but He loves her and He cares for her. Lend her a shoulder should she need to cry and an ear should she need to speak. Your presence of encouragement makes a world of difference.
Maybe you have experienced loss yourself. Perhaps Mother's Day is as hard for you as it is for me. Remember first and foremost to thank God for your own mother. Having a heart of thanksgiving helps us keep our focus on things above. Make sure she knows that you are grateful for all she has done for you (this applies to those of us who had adoptive mothers, grandmothers, and/or mentors who have stood in the gap for absent mothers). Next, pray! Pray for God to give you strength. Pray for God's will in your life. It's okay to be sad, but it's not good to stay there.
If you need to talk, talk to God. He hears us when we pray. If you need a sounding board, find someone you can open up to about it. Seek advice from those who are like-minded and equally yoked... meaning, if you are a Believer, you should find solace within your community of Believers. Speaking to someone who doesn't understand the Faith based following of God's will may lead you and your mind down a path God never intended for you to walk. Be aware that in most cases, the things that hurt are usually unintentional. Don't let your hurt become your bitterness.
Something that helps me is thinking about the wonderful life our baby is experiencing in heaven right now, at this very moment. Our baby will never know pain or sorrow. Our baby will never be disappointed or rejected. Our baby will never know of war or drought or famine or disease. Our baby is sitting in the lap of Jesus, filled with unexplainable joy and happiness, waiting for us to join them there. I look forward to that and I take great comfort in knowing these things.
I know this post has been a long one and I only pray that it is accepted in the right ways. It was informative in nature and therapeutic in result. I pray that it has helped you in some capacity or another.
As for me, I have picked myself up after a hard day and renewed my strength in the Lord. I know that Mother's Day will not always feel this way for me. Nathan and I are still resting in God's promise that we will one day have a baby of our own. I am encouraged that God continues to prepare us for a miracle (or miracles) and we continue to move forward in Him. God is so good to me.
I'm sure none of the comments I received were made maliciously, and I in no way fault anyone for displaying and announcing their blessings for the world to admire and share in rejoice, but you could imagine the devastating power each blow had to my now barren uterus.
I struggled with thoughts of why... I asked God why He had allowed all these women this precious gift of motherhood, yet had taken mine away. Since before Nathan and I married, I longed to be a stay at home mother. I've wanted to be the caregiver of the product of the third greatest love I've ever been afforded (God, My Mother, My Husband). I've wanted to feel that joy and I've wanted to experience that right of passage as a woman. I've wanted to be a mother and not long after I discovered I would be one, I found myself suddenly without.
I was an unmother.
And with the added weight of the Mother's Day frenzy upon me, I cracked beneath my smile.
I cried for awhile until God granted me relief enough to pick up and continue on in His will. We were reassured of His promise for us to bare a child naturally despite my body's objections and we began to prepare ourselves for the miracle we knew was coming. We readied our hearts and began to ready our home.
Then today came.
Just as I felt progress being made within my heart, today happened.
It has been over a year and I thought with all the progress we've made and the joy in my heart, Mother's Day would not affect me the way it did last year. I was wrong. I attended church this morning, greeting people as I entered and I headed towards the classroom to get set up for children's church. We were still unsure if the pastor wanted it to commence on this special holiday, but I prepared just the same. It wasn't until I completed my set up and had written "the Great Commission" on the white board that I looked up to see the banner the children from our guest church had made. Brightly painted hand prints and names written beside them with the same tiny hands. I felt it swell up inside me and I begin to break down. Not even a minute later my husband entered the room, set aside his agenda, and wrapped his arms around me. The floodgates had opened and I sobbed into his chest for several minutes. He rubbed my back and told me it was okay... and although those words seem so simple, they were exactly what I needed to hear in that moment.
"It's okay. I know. It's okay."
I composed myself enough to get through song service in which I sang, and the composure lasted throughout the service (no children's church after all) until the dreaded moment had arrived. I remembered this moment from last year. As the pastor began to call all the mothers up, I looked at Nathan and said, "I hope she doesn't ask me to do it. It kills me." No later than the words had escaped my mouth, I was called upon to be the non-mother that handed out the gifts to all the mothers of the church. I did as I was asked, and just as the year before, I put on my biggest smile, passed out each gift, looked into the eye of every mother and wished them a happy Mother's Day. It hadn't gotten any easier.
What had happened to this day I once looked forward to? The festivities were mere reminders that I was not allowed to join in. I was not a mother, but not only that, I was an unmother. I was a mother who's heart leaped for joy at the expectation of her baby... a mother robbed of her motherhood before she even had a chance to meet her child, to kiss her baby's little cheeks, or feel her baby's fingers tightly wrap around her own. It did't matter how long that life was in me... there was LIFE. IN. ME. No one saw me as a mother. I had no child to prove that I once held life inside me. My oven was broken and everyone sat around me with their loaves of bread asking me why I haven't baked yet.
I reiterate that I know none of the comments I received were made maliciously, and I in no way fault anyone from being joyous and thankful on Mother's Day... but what I am saying is...
If there's an unmother in your life, someone who has lost a child before birth or before the annual thanking of mothers, let her know that you're thinking about her. Take some time and show her that you're there for her. She needs to know that she's not alone. She needs to know that you understand that even though her child isn't alive today, she is still a giver of life. Speak life into her. Instead of joking around, maybe give her some words of encouragement. Let her know that you are praying for God's will in her life. Be careful not to say that you're praying for a child for her, but instead simply let her know that God's will is most important. Tell her that sometimes God doesn't always share what His plans are, but He loves her and He cares for her. Lend her a shoulder should she need to cry and an ear should she need to speak. Your presence of encouragement makes a world of difference.
Maybe you have experienced loss yourself. Perhaps Mother's Day is as hard for you as it is for me. Remember first and foremost to thank God for your own mother. Having a heart of thanksgiving helps us keep our focus on things above. Make sure she knows that you are grateful for all she has done for you (this applies to those of us who had adoptive mothers, grandmothers, and/or mentors who have stood in the gap for absent mothers). Next, pray! Pray for God to give you strength. Pray for God's will in your life. It's okay to be sad, but it's not good to stay there.
If you need to talk, talk to God. He hears us when we pray. If you need a sounding board, find someone you can open up to about it. Seek advice from those who are like-minded and equally yoked... meaning, if you are a Believer, you should find solace within your community of Believers. Speaking to someone who doesn't understand the Faith based following of God's will may lead you and your mind down a path God never intended for you to walk. Be aware that in most cases, the things that hurt are usually unintentional. Don't let your hurt become your bitterness.
Something that helps me is thinking about the wonderful life our baby is experiencing in heaven right now, at this very moment. Our baby will never know pain or sorrow. Our baby will never be disappointed or rejected. Our baby will never know of war or drought or famine or disease. Our baby is sitting in the lap of Jesus, filled with unexplainable joy and happiness, waiting for us to join them there. I look forward to that and I take great comfort in knowing these things.
I know this post has been a long one and I only pray that it is accepted in the right ways. It was informative in nature and therapeutic in result. I pray that it has helped you in some capacity or another.
As for me, I have picked myself up after a hard day and renewed my strength in the Lord. I know that Mother's Day will not always feel this way for me. Nathan and I are still resting in God's promise that we will one day have a baby of our own. I am encouraged that God continues to prepare us for a miracle (or miracles) and we continue to move forward in Him. God is so good to me.
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