Don't wish me a happy Mother's Day

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Have you noticed lately how commercialized Mother’s Day has become? Have you seen all the commercials and other ads? I have. While I’m plenty sick of commercialism, there’s something else on my mind.

Infertility.

I’ve been there. I still am hoping to conceive someday, even though this summer marks five years of no pregnancies. I love adoption, and I am thankful for it. Because of adoption, I now celebrate Mother’s Day.

But what about all the other ladies dealing with infertility and loss for whom Mother’s Day is nothing but incredible pain? What about the ladies that turn on the television at night to relax, and end up running from the room crying because a commercial about babies is too painful to watch? (For those of you who haven’t experienced infertility, I am not exaggerating. It is that painful) Then there’s the commercials that remind you that, “There’s only three days left to buy Mom a gift for Mother’s Day!”

What about the ladies who long to be a mother, and yet go months and months with no baby? Years go by, and still no children. What about them?

How was your church service this morning? Were mothers honored? Were those precious, hurting ladies acknowledged in any way?

What about the mothers who have become pregnant, only to deliver their children straight to Heaven? Were they acknowledged? Did anyone mention the mamas whose only children were stillborn or miscarried? What about the mothers whose children have died?

Mother’s Day is painful. Too painful for some women.

Some might have attended church in fear of what lay ahead. I’ve been there too. An excruciating comment made by way of public announcement made me dread all future Mother’s Day services. That comment cut deep. To the bone, even. While I hold no hard feelings toward the one who made the comment, I do find it hard to forget. I will always wonder why I was singled out as being barren that day. The next Mother’s Day, I almost stayed home from church. I was too afraid of what might happen.

How many ladies simply stay away from church on Mother’s Day because they’re not emotionally stable enough to attend without sobbing the entire service?

And what about the ladies who have lost their own mothers? Mother’s Day isn’t always wonderful for them either, especially if the loss is recent. What about the ladies who long to be with their mothers, but just can’t? Whether it be distance, or health, or finances. . .that can make the holiday painful too.

This Mother’s Day, I don’t get to celebrate with my mother. She lives five hours away, and there’s just no way we could go this weekend. We live 12 hours from my husband’s mom. We can’t just take a weekend trip there, either. I miss both my mothers this day – my mom and my mother-in-love.

My grandma is in a nursing home right now, with failing health. Dad’s words to me the other day is that she is “at death’s door.” How painful is Mother’s Day for him today – knowing that this is probably the last time he gets to celebrate Mother’s Day with his mama on this side of Heaven?

So before you just blithely wish every woman you see a Happy Mother’s Day, please think. Don’t forget about the many ladies that have hurting hearts today. . .Pray for them. Love on them. Please help them to have a not-so-painful Mother’s Day today.

(For a great book about dealing with infertility or supporting loved ones going through infertility, check out Hannah’s Hope: Seeking God’s Heart in the Midst of Infertility, Miscarriage and Adoption Loss by Jenni Saake)

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6 thoughts on “Don't wish me a happy Mother's Day”

  1. Jenni, I had seen your post about that on HP, but I haven’t had a chance to make it to the store and get any yet. Thanks for the reminder!

  2. Thank you for posting that, Melody. I used to attend church with a woman who faithfully attended every Sunday – except Mother’s Day. When someone asked if she was ill, her husband told them that she had underwent a hysterectomy at the age of eighteen and they never had children. Because of financial constraints they were never able to adopt, so because of all of the praise and recognition given to the mothers in the congregation on Mother’s Day, she stayed home because it was too painful.

    My MIL has Alzheimer’s and, while she has met my son, she forgot one year that I had a child. My husband and I hugged her and wished her a happy Mother’s Day. She hugged me up and said, “maybe some day I’ll get to wish you a happy Mother’s Day too!” She meant well, but it stung so much because dh and I will probably never have a child together.

  3. Thanks for remembering those of us still dealing with IF. I wondered if anyone would remember, and was convinced no one would. Everyone just asumes you have children, or will have, or have had. Not everyone is a mother, or has one. The past two years I’ve stayed away from church, my mother really wanted me to go this year and I did. I made it through the recognition service and the sermon. Its been a while since IF has gotten me down, but until I get my miracle Mother’s Day will always be hard.

  4. Thank you, Melody. I’m reading this on Monday, which is a bit late. Last year was very painful for me. My secret sister gave me a Mother’s Day gift. Thankyouverymuch. I was in tears most of the day. I shared my frustrations on a message board I belonged to, and was basically told to suck it up, that the lady was being nice to me. There were two ladies whose words were actually a comfort to me.

    This Mother’s Day was not so hard. God has given me a measure of peace regarding my husband’s and my infertility. Is it easy? No. But I know all things work together for good!

    Thank you, again, for this post!

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