Mother’s Day is hard. It’s nearly impossible to keep dry eyes. I hoped it would get easier over the 7 years, but I have started to accept that it will never be easy. I’ve also started to realize that it’s okay that I feel this way. Thank you for helping me get to that point.
Anyone that knows me is aware that I thrive when I am taking care of others. Whether it’s a friend or loved one, I adore cooking for them, taking care of them if they are sick, or just being there for them. It only seemed natural that I would eventually be a mom. For Christ’s sake, there were dozens of kids that had called me mom since high school.
When I found myself 7.5 months pregnant when I first went to a doctor, staring a fetus down on an ultrasound monitor, wondering where the fuck he came from, I never could have fathomed where I am at now. He deserved more than what I could give him. He deserved the best of everything. He deserved stability and security that was out of my reach. I made sure he got that, and it was the hardest thing I have done in my life.
I have some incredible friends. Friends that make it a point every year to wish me a happy Mother’s Day. It makes me feel wonderful, in a way. It reminds me that I did something. I gave life to a child, and gave him up for adoption to give him the opportunity that I knew he deserved. I gave him the parents I knew he deserved. I sacrificed for my child in a way unfathomable to those that haven’t done so. I am glad that it’s unfathomable to them. I would never wish the heart-wrenching sadness on anyone that it has caused.
Knowing I did what was best for my son doesn’t make it easier, unfortunately. The heart and mind still long for all the little things that are missed along the way. Whether it’s a skinned knee or a ballgame, those little things are something that I can’t replace or fill by some other means.
If you are reading this as a parent, please give your kids hugs more often. Smile at them and put down the smart phones. Cherish every second you have with them in your everyday life.
By no means do I think I speak for all birth mothers. On no level am I putting myself on some ranking in the mother system. I am speaking only as me. I am a birth mother. I will always be that. I am someone that has been torn apart by a logical, reasonable, and very much the right decision for both he and myself. Unfortunately, on days like Mother’s Day, logical brain isn’t always the side that wins out.
Love to all mothers this Mother’s Day. Adoptive mothers, step-mothers, birth mothers, grandmothers, and fur-baby mothers alike. Also special love goes to those mothers that have lost their babies, no one can fathom your loss.