Not everyone enjoys Mother’s Day

It’s here. That lovely day that comes once a year. 

Your husband and children bring you breakfast in bed, complete with a pretty flower in a vase. They climb up in bed with you and shower you with hugs and kisses.

You get dressed in a beautiful outfit and head to church. There, you are asked to stand with other mothers, and recognized for your sacrifice, love, and compassion. You are presented with a flower or gift to acknowledge the beauty of being a mother. 

Your children come back from Sunday School with handprints and beautiful Mother’s Day cards that would make any mama cry, and you can’t wait to get home and display them on the fridge proudly. 

You head outside for family pictures, which capture that intense love for your children in your eyes.

You go home and have dinner with your family and your own mother, or call her, and thank her for the wonderful times she’s given you, for being there for you through heartache and trials and the struggles of motherhood. You feel nostalgic and look at old pictures of you together at mother-daughter events. 

Your heart is full. You love being a mother, and are grateful for your own mother. What a lovely day.

***

Meanwhile, down the street, a girl wakes up, realizes it’s Mother’s Day, and silently, tears begin to fall. 

Her mother was abusive-physically, verbally, emotionally. Her memories of Mother’s Day are filled with horrific fights, yelling, and her mother comparing her and her siblings to other kids in their friend circles, and telling them they are horrible children, and she wished she had other kids. 

Then, after she finally abandoned the family, Mother’s Day at church was unbearably painful, watching other moms receive flowers from their kids. Watching the moms look at their children like they’re their whole world. Clapping for the wonderful moms, while trying to stifle the flashbacks of being beaten and told you’re worthless and hated by your own mother.

Getting invited to the mother-daughter teas and brunches, but not having a mother to go with. 

She wonders, can Mother’s Day please just be over already?

***

The abused girl grows up, suffering pain from the repeated hurtful words and actions of her mother, even though she can no longer physically abuse her. 

She looks for love in relationships, but is continually betrayed and hurt by those who swear they “love” her. 

Broken, hurt, and untrusting, she finally finds her soulmate. The one who loves her, and is not annoyed by having to constantly reassure her of his love. They can’t wait to have children and shower them with the love that overflows from their love for each other.

Over the next few years, they find themselves with child 7 times. 

And 7 times, they lose their baby before getting to hear it cry or coo, or take a picture to put in a cherished photo album.

All of the pain surrounding mothers comes flooding back. 

Not only is she missing the love of her mother, but now she can’t even give love AS a mother.

She sits in church with empty arms, and deals with comments asking why they don’t have kids yet. She feels the eyes that pass judgment on her, thinking she is being selfish by not wanting kids. She handles jokes and passing comments about “when are you going to finally pop out a kid?” and then goes home and sobs. She hears the well-intentioned lines of “at least they’re in heaven,” and tries to be gracious, but she really wants to cry and scream that no one would say that to someone whose 10-year old just got hit by a drunk driver and died. 

She avoids church again, on that day that is supposed to be happy. Because no one seems to notice those who aren’t standing. The ones who are choking back tears of pain, not joy. The ones who have a mother in heaven. The ones whose mothers were not loving and kind. The ones who long for children but can’t conceive. The ones who have carried a child in their body, but not their arms. 

Not everyone enjoys Mother’s Day. 

I’m not saying that those grieving on this day should be a damper on the joy of those who are happy on this day. I’m just saying that it might be nice if they were not overlooked. Perhaps so many wouldn’t stay home and eat chocolates while drowning in a pool of tears if people considered the grief that can accompany this day.

❤️