My husband asked me what I would like for Mother’s Day, and I couldn’t really think of anything special I’d like to have.
Sleeping in would be nice. Breakfast in bed would be nice. Flowers would be nice. And really, considering what my days usually look like, I guess those things would all be pretty special.
Over the years I’ve often asked to have a day off. A day completely to myself. A day that doesn’t involve cooking or laundry or changing diapers or playing 57 rounds of Uno and CandyLand. And I will probably ask for that this year, too. Because let’s face it, I’m a mom who longs for quiet.
But I think what I’d really like for Mother’s Day is for every mother to have the opportunity to celebrate the day with all of her children. What I’d really like is for every mother’s arms to be full.
I would really like for the pain of pregnancy and child loss to no longer be a reality. I would really like for babies to stop dying. I would really like for the absence in so many mother’s lives to be filled, or better yet, for there to have never been an absence at all.
I know what Mother’s Day after pregnancy loss is like. It’s hard. It’s lonely. It has the effect of making one feel invisible, and the gut-wrenching pain of loss seems to go unnoticed too. People don’t seem to see the mothers who don’t have a child in their arms or by their side. And people don’t seem to see their pain.
Those with living children are celebrated, as they should be. Mothering is hard work, physically and especially emotionally. I know that firsthand. Mothers put everything they have into raising their children. And they deserve at the very least a moment in the spotlight.
But there are so many mothers who have carried children only in their wombs. There are so many mothers who are aching to carry their children in their arms. There are so many mothers who are not recognized. Who aren’t sure whether they should stand up or stay seated when the pastor invites all the mothers in church to rise. There are so many mothers whose motherhood has been complicated by what’s missing. Whose motherhood has been marred by death.
**What I’d Like For Mother’s Day is For Every Mom’s Arms to Be Full**
My husband asked me what I would like for Mother’…
What I’d really like is for every mother to have the chance to raise all of her children. But since this broken world will never allow for that, what I’d really like is for every mother to be seen and celebrated. For every mother to be acknowledged.
Because the mother’s who are hurting this Mother’s Day deserve just as much love and recognition as the mother’s who aren’t.
This piece originally appeared at A Beautifully Burdened Life, by Jenny Albers, published with permission.