Last year I tackled a very hard subject: my uncomfort with Mother's Day.
This year via the interwebs I learned this year is the 100th anniversary of Mother's Day in the United States.
Read about the cool origins here in the Huffington Post: http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/5280493 How incredibly amazing is that? It moved my distaste for the day from high to a thoughtful pondering. How could I reclaim the day?
So what I've been dreading as a saccharine card-store holiday and yearly reminder that my maternal cords snapped long ago has shifted for me here in the year 2014. Even more so than last year's acceptance and partial repair of familial bonds.
Today I would have been 5 1/2 months along in our pregnancy. And that tidbit caused me to suck air a bit. I won't lie.
But this year has so far taught me how much mothering is so needed.
The unconditional compassion for others is what I feel is at the heart of the word mothering.
Through the darkest hours of this year thus far I witnessed astonishing acts of mothering:
Between us women who found courage in each other to grieve our lost babies. In some cases to speak on those loses for the very first time!
Between my husband and I and in turn with each other to our one living child.
I save seen that my words of truth on my loss here have helped comfort others.
And what has occurred is a small community of men and women who need and want to share mothering.
I am glad that though my uterus failed I was able to birth a small safe space online where we can and do support each other unconditionally. We mother each other and give to one another courage and comfort and occasionally a swift kick as needed. It's glorious!
And I am grateful and astounded by the love, support and courage of all these folks!
But as happy and life affirming as my revelation and grief process has been I still must ask a small favor:
Be gentle in your well wishes to any and all females you know on this 100th anniversary.
You may not know how she braves the day. Can you know if she is dealing:
With the painful reminder of her own loses?
With the empty womb where love should have grown but sadly has not?
With the overwhelming love and resources to adopt or foster yet has been denied?
With the terrible loss of her own Mother or Grandmothers or beautiful gay man who taught her trust?
With the unwanted questioning as to when or why or why not she's a mother by now?
With feeling her own parenting is a miserable failure?
With exhaustion and feeling of being overwhelmed or postpartum with their new bundles of joy?
With an empty nest where the birds never return?
We don't know. So if someone wishes me a happy mother's day I'll smile and thank them. And if I truly know them I'll well wish or offer a hug, or let her grab a quick shower as needed.
But for me this year I'd rather be mothering and being mothered than toasted for my status as MOM.
Though the excited whisperings of the kidlet as the plotting of how to spend my day is more welcomed thus year than I ever imagined. And I'll gratefully appreciated each minute on Sunday.
I love you all. And if the day is getting you down, I am here for you. And you might just hear from me too!