This year my Mother’s Day will be so different than the last. Last year I told Ryan that I couldn’t bear to go to church and see all of the beautiful momma’s with their children celebrating what I had so desperately wanted and fought for. I couldn’t take the hugs and well intentioned words of encouragement telling me that “next year will be my year.” I had heard it too many times and smiled through it for too many years. Even in the midst of our adoption journey I just couldn’t do it. I had no idea when (or if) we’d ever be chosen. I knew I wouldn’t ever be pregnant. After 6 years of struggling and a lifetime of dreaming I just couldn’t face it. So we ran away for the day and went and did something fun, just the two of us.
I understand the pain and heartache that infertility brings. I understand the isolation you feel and the hope that is so hard to hold on to—but you just can’t seem to bring yourself to let go of. I know the tears that come with each failed pregnancy test and the walls you build up a little higher each time someone asks, “why haven’t you two had children yet?! Time’s ticking!” This time last year my son was growing inside of the womb of another woman, and I had no idea that my life would be changing in a few short months. I had no idea that the prayers I had been praying were being answered as I cried and pleaded with God to not forget me. I could only see that another Mother’s day would be coming and going and I wasn’t a mother.
This year I will celebrate with my precious son, my adorably handsome husband and this miracle baby growing inside of me. I will relax and let my husband take care of me and change all of the dirty diapers. I will thank God (as I do every day) for these precious gifts He has given to me. I will thank Him for both answered and unanswered prayers. I will snuggle with my boy and give him more kisses than I can count. But, in the midst of my own joy- I promise that I won’t forget those who are experiencing the gut-wrenching grief that is all too familiar to me.
In my own joy, I won’t forget those women who desperately want to be called “mom” and struggle every day to make it happen. I won’t forget those who have given up hope that their mom-sized dreams will ever come true. I’ll think about those who have lost their mom and are experiencing the loss of the woman who made them who they are today. Those who have a broken relationship with their mom and struggle to smile through the day- I’ll hold you in my heart as well.
So often in our own joy we can forget there are those who are suffering. We can forget that God doesn’t answer everyone’s prayers in the same way that He answered ours. I can look back on my story now and see His grace weaved through every unanswered prayer, but not everyone can see their story from the same perspective that I can. Not everyone has made it on the other side of their journey. Not everyone will, and I can’t say that I understand why. I do know that even in the mud and muck of life, that God is still ever present. He is still a God who LOVES us unconditionally and understands our tears and frustration and heartache.
God is a God of hope! He isn’t finished writing your story. Trust Him with the beginning, the middle and the ending. Friend, when I say that the story He writes for your life is far better than anything you could write on your own, I say it because I know. I’ve lived it. I know it hurts. I know it’s hard. I know the temptation might be there to just give up, but don’t. Hold on to hope. God is still in the business of miracles.