Mother's Day: It's Complicated

Tomorrow everyone gets all lovey dovey for their mama's. For a lot of mom's it goes like this: breakfast in bed, card and flowers, cheesy talk in church given by Pastor about how mom's are the best, lunch out, day with the family...blah, blah, blah.

Like many holidays, Mother's Day has kind of lost it's zeal for me. I am thankful for my mom, don't get me wrong...but I don't really think I need to wait until Mother's Day to tell her how much I love her. That just seems a little ridiculous.

It's not all the conundrums of Mother's Day and that it is seemingly another flagrant effort of Hallmark and Hershey's and restaurants to make billions that makes me want to roll my eyes and go back to bed on Mother's Day.

It's that when I look in the eyes of my son, I wonder about his mother. I wonder what she looked like, what happened to her, what brought her to the point of giving up her son? Did she even have a choice? Or did she do the best thing for him to give him food to eat and then just hoped that one day he would have another Mama to wipe his tears?

I look in his sweet little eyes and I wonder what it will be like for him to think about her one day. That day will be here sooner than I know. I asked him if he remembers his mama in Ghana and he says, "no" and then proceeds to talk about the Lego project he is working on.

I wonder if she is still out there. If she is, she must wonder what he looks like now, if he is alive, where he is, and a host of other questions that I cannot wrap my mind around asking myself about one of my own children.

I look in the eyes of my daughter, and I wonder how she feels about having two moms. I wonder how it will effect her later in life, and if it will hurt her precious little heart to know that she is not with the one who gave birth to her. I am kidding myself if I think it won't. But naively and optimistically I will hold onto every shred of faith that I have that we will do a good job at this, and that she won't be a damaged wreck. We will speak the truth in love to her so much that she will know that the GOD of the universe has a perfect plan for her life and that is all that matters.

Mother's Day for me will never be my own between me and those who call me "mama". I share it with two birth moms, which suits me just fine. I don't feel jealous. I mostly just feel sad that half of our children will always feel the longing, wondering, curious, angry, sad, and sometimes joyful feelings because of having a birth mom and me.

I look in the eyes of our bio kids, and I remember the day that they each came into this world. I remember my first childbirth, and how I thought it would never end. I remember thinking I would never sleep again. I remember my second childbirth, and how the post-labor french toast and bacon (two servings of each) was seriously the best meal I have ever eaten and if I close my eyes I can picture it and taste it right now all over again. I think of the blessing that both of those children have brought to us. And I am thankful for the fact that they have a mama. and a daddy.  

One thing is for certain, God intended them all to be mine. To be ours. Through the pain and the tragedy of their birth moms lives, through the blessing of adoption, or through the triumph of birth. And that I will never doubt. I can't possibly fathom life without any of them.

All of our children under one roof makes me feel complete..almost. But certainly full of joy, so for that I am eternally grateful to the birth moms who made hard choices in their baby's lives in a weird way that makes me feel like I shouldn't be. It feels so selfish to get so much joy out of something that fell apart in a way in never should have.

My heart bleeds, I mean literally sometimes I think I feel it oozing out of my chest, for the millions of children who have NO ONE to call mama. Can you imagine, I mean really picture it in your mind for a moment, what that must feel like? No mama to sing you lullabies, to make your favorite sandwich and cut off the crust even though you know you are supposed to eat it, to tuck you in, to read you books...No mama to kiss your boo-boo's, to wipe your brow when you have a fever, to see you off to your first day of school and then welcome you with open arms every day when you come home,...No home. No bed. No mama.

I will selfishly keep going until I die. They are my cause. They are my heart. If I love them as much as I love myself, I know that myself would not enjoy not having a mom. Myself would be utterly heartbroken and in despair. And I would never leave myself heartbroken in despair for long. If God allows me to be the mama to more, I will do it with all my heart and not expect a darn thing on Mother's day =)