Mother’s Day Part 1

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day. It’s an interesting day for me because of children I parent and the hurt they come from. It gets even more interesting when you add my journey with infertility into the mix.

One comment from an excellent post on RAD and Mother’s Day says it best, “The best thing about Mother’s Day for a RAD blogger mom is that it’s worth at least a week’s worth of posts.” Thanks, Kerrie. I guess I will be typing a lot this week.

Anywho, yesterday Miah shared a deep piece of pain from his heart and how much he misses his birth mom. It was so hard for him to share, and I was so proud of him. I told him that one thing our counselor suggested was that he could write letters to his birth mom and keep them in a special place so that he can give them to her if/when he finds her some day. He liked that idea. He felt good that he knew that I was not hurt by the fact that he misses her.

Today, I paid for that conversation.

He had let me in close, and today he felt terrified that he had allowed himself to open up to me like that.

Not. A. Fun. Morning.

He raged passively (yes, you can do that) and aggressively for a long time. It got even worse when I told him that my heart was telling me that maybe he was mad that he let me in close and told me about how he misses his birth mom. “How did you know that?” he yelled. “Who told you that?” I’d hit the nail on the head. Whoops.

More raging.

Finally crying.

Finally rocking.

Finally crying, and sobs, and memories, and reassurances.

“I know.”

“You’re right! It’s not fair. I wasn’t your choice.”

“I know. You miss her so much.”

One part that made me laugh…sort of…was when he was describing her and said that she wasn’t skinny, but big, like me. Thanks, Babe. Glad to know that brings you comfort.

It’s a very different journey, parenting these two boys of mine. Gabe has 15 years of memories with two other Mommies before me. Jeremiah has 6 years with who knows how many Mommies….at least 8. Gabe was not old enough to remember his birth mom. Jeremiah was. He was 6 when he had his last visit with her. He remembers just enough to make what he doesn’t remember that much more painful.

My husband has said of me lately that I am uniquely covered with God’s grace. It’s what my name means. I don’t quite understand it. In my mind I feel like I should be hurt by the fact that my boys, especially my baby, miss their mommies. But I’m not. I am a little jealous of the moments I missed out on, but when Miah talks about missing his mommy, or Gabe talks about wanting to find his mom someday, I understand. I’m thankful to God for that covering of grace, because feeling that jealousy or hurt would make this job that much harder.

Tomorrow will bring what it brings. I am teaching Children’s Church, so that will be fun.

Blessings!

Hannah

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