Every mothers day for the last few years a dear friend has stopped by our house with a treat, a silly little gift and a beautiful note. While the treats were always much appreciated, it was her notes that always meant the most.
She had tried for many years to get pregnant. They had been through all the treatments, drugs, stress and pain of never being able to conceive. For all those years the one day that was always the hardest was Mothers Day, especially at church. The lessons were packed with stories of motherhood and joys of being a mother. Around every corner you were being reminded of what you didn't, and couldn't have. She felt that for many years, and after we lost our little one she knew what I was going through. Her notes always talked of faith and joy in Christs love for us. She reminded me that the Lord had a plan, and whatever it may be, he knew what was best for us. And she always made a great joke about how it was ok to sit home in your jammies, eat ice cream and cry if that's what you felt like doing.
Last week I thought of her and the fact that I wouldn't be seeing her this Mothers Day. Not only because of distance, but because I wouldn't need her pick me up this year.
I sit here in awe of the blessing that has been brought to us this year. For so long I have hungered to truly celebrate this day, to celebrate more than just my mother and all the mother's around me, but myself as a mother. It always felt selfish to be sad on a day of such joy, but the emptiness was overwhelming. This year, I am overwhelmed with joy. No, I didnt wake up to breakfast in bed, and a fresh bouquet of roses, but I did wake up to a rounding belly fluttering with life. There is no better gift than that, and for today I can celebrate my first real Mothers Day.
