I wish more than anything that I was also a Mother
this year, but the reality is that I am not. I've been
on the fence about whether Mother's
Day this year would have a
negative toll on my mind and spirit but
luckily that hasn't been the case.
Today, I chose to venture off my infertility social
media and focus instead on who I am celebrating this year.
I am celebrating my own mother.
The one who lifts me up to this day.
Who listens with compassion on my sad days,
and who shares in my laughter and joy on the good days.
I choose to celebrate the way that I was brought into this
world by a remarkable line of women.
I also choose to celebrate my husbands Mother.
I don't know what I would do without him by my side.
The last couple of years have been hard, but he has been there
to curl up to me when I'm crying myself to
sleep, Who is there when nobody in there right
mind would want to be near me. He is here
because she brought him to me.
I celebrate my sister, who raises four
wild children, all with their own thoughts and
values. They are loved, cherished, clothed, and happy.
I celebrate my dearest friends who raise their little ones.
Through tears and sleepless nights, they have such
pride in their voices and eyes as milestones are achieved.
I'm so lucky to have Mother's all around me. I know
the battle to become a mother sometimes gets the
best of me. I've seen countless posts over the last week
about the sorrow and also the bitterness about being forgotten
on Mother's Day. I feel blessed that I don't have
those feelings today.
As much as I would like to claim it, I am not a Mother.
I don't feel like a mother. I don't own that badge, quite yet.
Hopefully soon, but not yet.
So today, I choose to feel blessed, grateful, and proud to know
that when Motherhood happens for me,
I will join the ranks of all these Mothers that I celebrate.
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| image via Pinterest |
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