Mother's Day

To be perfectly honest, I hate Mother's Day. I haven't always. Growing up all I wanted to be was a wife and mom. I wanted to be the kind of mom where all the neighborhood kids wanted to hang out at my house and their parents knew they would be okay there. I wanted to do the fun birthdays and little surprises for no reason whatsoever. The kind of mom that my kids knew they could trust and yet also knew that I was their mom first. As they got older, I wanted them to know I was their friend and confidant, never interfering with how they raised their own families and giving my advice only when asked. I held onto that dream until about year 10 of my marriage. Year 10 is when I started doing the math. Year 10 I was 36yrs old, which would mean having my first child at 37. Not really sure how I felt about having a toddler around the house in my 40's nor was Randy, my husband, thrilled about still having kids at home in his 60's. See, he is 5yrs old than I am and we didn't just want one kid, we wanted at least 2. (If I am being honest, I always wanted 5.....and I now have 5 dogs so.....) If the first one graduates when he is 60 and I am 55, who is to say how old we would be by the time the last one left the nest. We talked and decided if it happened, it happened, we were done worrying about it or thinking it through. Worrying about it? Yes, worrying about it. When I was 33yrs old, we finally had an appointment with an ob-gyn to see what the hold up was. I knew I had endometriosis, just not the severity of it or if that was the issue. It seems it was. The fibroids that had taken residence inside of me were golf ball sized. We were told that they could be removed and because there were so many, she wasn't sure if my uterine wall would be strong enough to sustain life. So, yeah, I could get pregnant and my body could not be able to handle it. We decided it wasn't worth it. For those of you that know me well, you know that I am a very positive, optimistic person that can see the plus side in just about every situation. I knew that losing a child would change me. I knew that making the decision to have the surgery, getting pregnant, and losing the baby because I had opted to have the surgery was not an option for me. We decided against the surgery and didn't talk about it again. Fast forward to me at 41yrs of age, I am in church and one of the pastor gets up and prays for healing for endometriosis and fibroids. I cry all the time, y'all. Like at everything. SO you know I was crying then. From that day on, I have had no side effects/symptoms of having endometriosis. I was healed that day, in church, by God through the Holy Spirit. I laid hands on myself and agreed with what was being prayed from the altar. Randy and I again had the conversation, do we still want kids of our own? I mean, if we didn't want them at 36, has anything changed? And, the answer is still no. We have decided that if we get pregnant, then we do and we aren't going to "try" to get pregnant. Adoption will be in our future. We would love to welcome older children into our home one day. And if God, with his awesome sense of humor, decides diapers are also in our future then we would welcome that as well. I still don't like Mother's Day. I still gringe when someone wishes me a "Happy Mother's Day". I am an aunt to 16 awesome nieces and nephews from both sides of our families and I am a dog mom to 5 rescue dogs but I am not a mom. Mother's Day to me is a reminder of a lost dream, a reminder that we waited too long to go to the doctor, a reminder of the family I will never have. So today, on this Mother's Day, just know that not everyone who appears to be a mom, is. Some of us never had the opportunity and for us, there is nothing happy about this day. When we adopt and I get the chance to be a mom, this will all change. For now, I will stay home on Mother's Day, as I have for the last 3 years. This day is already a reminder of what has been lost. I don't need strangers picking at the wound.