It’s Mother’s Day. A single day where mothers everywhere are celebrated, remembered and appreciated. A day that reaches into hearts and stirs up emotions; many of which are difficult for a myriad of reasons. Because all around the world, motherhood takes on different forms, and I was reminded of this recently. I reached out to a new-mama friend to offer support after remembering the overwhelm that was the first two months of my own fresh motherhood. I think back to those days and there I am, sitting in my daughter’s lovingly decorated nursery, the nursery that brought with it all the hopes and dreams of motherhood, and I’m crying as she nurses. Not because it hurt, though it did, but because I had been feeding her for hours, and her tiny cheeks were damp from her own tears, and my body ached from tiredness, and my husband sat alone on the couch, and I felt trapped. And exhausted. And frustrated. And probably a hundred other things that made me feel guilty and confused because being a mom was supposed to be blissful, so why did I feel like I was drowning instead? But alas, nearly three years later and another baby in, I could easily say I had found that bliss, and I wanted to tell my friend she would, too. But here’s the thing; she already had. She thanked me for reaching out, but she didn’t need any support or words of encouragement or, dare I say, advice. Motherhood had come easily to her, and I laughed in spite of myself. Not because I wasn’t happy for her, but because it reminded me that every mother’s experience is different. Not one of us has the same journey, and yet there are so many elements that unite us. The fear that we won’t know what we’re doing or measure up to the standard we’ve set for ourselves. The guilt that comes with the first “mistake.” The love that is so strong, you feel your heart might actually swell up out of your chest and burst into a thousand pieces.
It’s Mother’s Day. And it’s a day for all of the mamas. The ones who prayed for a baby, and maybe even spent years struggling to conceive, and the ones who were surprised. The mamas who loved pregnancy, and those that hated every second of it. For the moms who have angel babies, and the mamas with earthside children. The moms who grew their babies in their wombs, and the moms who adopted. The mothers who planned their births with such intricacy, and the ones who winged it. For naturally-birthing mothers, and moms rushed into emergency cesareans. For young moms, barely past childhood themselves, and for those worried they’re too old. The ones with a partner by their side, and the single moms doing it alone. The moms who nurse, and the moms who bottle-feed. The working moms, and the stay-at-home mommies. The mothers who feel like the luckiest people in the world, and the moms who hide in the closet, wondering if they were meant for this. For the moms struggling with depression, and the mamas who want a million more babies. The mothers who adored the infant stage, and the ones who couldn’t wait for it to be over. The co-sleeping moms, and the mothers who “follow all the rules.” The homeschooling moms, and the ones who stressed over finding the perfect school. The girl-moms and the boy-moms; the mamas of one and the mamas of many. And I could go on. And on. Because the differences are endless, yet we are all bound by this beautiful thing we call motherhood. It makes us laugh and it makes us cry. And we wonder if we’re doing it right, and why someone else seems to be doing a better job of it.
It’s Mother’s Day. And it’s a beautiful day. And it’s for all of us. And no matter where you are on your journey, whether it be treking up a mountain that feels too steep to climb, or floating down the other side, it’s your day to be celebrated, remembered and appreciated.
Happy Mother’s Day.
xoxo,
Heidi
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