For years I dreaded Mother’s Day. I wondered, am I a mother or not?! There was always a cloud hanging over my motherhood status. It was like being a mother… with an asterisk. When someone wished me a Happy Mother’s Day, I wanted to ask if it was because I’m a stepmom, auntie, or mother of an angel. What exactly should I be happy about, am I really a mother?!
One year, while celebrating the holiday on social media, I created a post acknowledging my pain. A dear online friend commented “You are a mother.” This realization brought me to my knees. No one had ever said those words to me. I cried all day long. I remember going for a walk and it started to rain. It felt like tears from heaven, so I cried some more. It was the most that I had cried since the death of my one week old son, Colby. It had been six years. But on that day, my tears cleansed my broken heart. I was finally set free.
A key part of my healing has been letting go of what I thought my life would be. I was looking forward to homemade cards from my first born son. Every year I wondered if he would know how to write his name. Could he color in the lines? Would he be an artist, use glitter, draw stick figures, make me flowers, I mean… what exactly are kids his age doing? As torturous as it sounds, these questions were explored every year as I attempted to celebrate Mother’s Day without my son. Until that day, when I let go!
There is comfort in holding on to pain. Pain is a great reminder that something or someone was there. I was afraid to let go. Afraid of letting my son go. But on that day, in my tears, I released him and held tight to my angel. In my heart, I can feel him. In my silent cries, I hear him. In my darkest nights, I see him. He’s always with me. My angel is with me. So yes, I am a mother. Colby made me a mother!
Happy Mother's Day.