The first year my husband and I were
together, he asked me what I wanted to do to celebrate Mother’s Day. He didn’t
wait, though, to ask until the morning of—he asked two weeks ahead of time. He
knew about my son, Michael, placed for adoption at birth six years before, and
knew I struggled with complex feelings of loss and regret.
His request changed my perspective
on holidays, especially Mother’s Day.
First, the fact that he approached the
holiday from a place of ‘celebration’ threw me for a loop. Celebrate? What the?
Since I’d placed my son for adoption, Mother’s Day had always generated ‘negative’
emotions. But he gently coaxed me out, stating even though my son was absent I
was still a mother and always would be, and it was a beautiful thing. He encouraged
me to embrace both the joys and sorrows, urging me to acknowledge my motherhood
and all it entailed. Maybe go for a walk or take a bubble bath: something simple
but designed to recognize this incredibly important part of who I am.
Secondly, by asking ahead of time, I
was able to assess where I was in my healing and gave me time to think about
what might allow me to embrace whatever feelings I was experiencing. He made it
clear, early on, that he would allow for solitude to an extent, but wouldn’t
leave me alone. He didn’t press me to talk but was present and available should
I decide to share.
I have spent more Mother’s Days than
I can count gently weeping while he held my hand.
Over the years, with practice and his
support, I grew bolder, eventually attending Mother’s Day brunches. I learned
to share that I had a son, and eventually to accept ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ wishes
without the need to bolt to the restroom to ugly cry.
So, if you are a birth mother, or a
mother who is grieving the loss of her child for any reason, this Mother’s Day I
encourage you to make a plan. Don’t let the day sneak up on you. Ask people who
love you to help. If this year you are feeling particularly vulnerable, decide where
you will feel safest: at home, snuggled up with a book, and a cup of tea? Or on
a hike with a close friend? Let those around you know you’re not sure how you
will feel on Mother’s Day, but you need someone there to just ‘be’ with you. Or
maybe you’re ready to proclaim your motherhood to the world, in which case I
applaud you! Go to brunch, wear a corsage, tell the world about your amazing
child.
No matter what you choose,
communicate your intentions with someone.
My husband has always been my staunchest
supporter as a birth mom and never shamed me. And has never taken Mother’s Day,
or any special occasion, lightly. He approaches them with kindness, respect,
and with a sense of hopefulness I’ve never quite been able to share, until now.
And, if you are an adoptive mother, remember that your joy began with another woman’s loss. If you think she might be open to it, find a way to acknowledge her loss and her motherhood. It is something that she will always have, despite the absence of her child.
