Mother's Day Reflections

For so many years, I've seen Mother's Day as for other women, members of the special group that society puts on pedestals.  As a non-mother, I felt like a second-class citizen who didn't quite measure up.  I came to expect the awkward silence after a new acquaintance asked if I had kids and I answered in the negative, leaving the conversation with nowhere to go.  I would offer up my dear nephews as quasi-offspring, but somehow they just didn't cut it.  Apparently, aunthood doesn't require enough thankless tasks to qualify one for "the club."

On my first Mother's Day, I've had a range of feelings.  It's traditionally been a painful day for me, and I know it still is for too many women who long to be mothers and aren't for one reason or another.  My heart aches for them, and I want to tell them that they matter a great deal.  Interestingly, I don't feel any more important now that I'm a mom, except in the eyes of the one person who counts -- my darling daughter. 

My main emotion is gratitude, for the incredible gift of being Sarah's mom and experiencing every day with her as she grows.  People tell me what a lucky girl she is to have loving parents and a beautiful home, but the truth is that we're the lucky ones.  As our three-year wait for her demonstrates, there is no shortage of good homes for girls like Sarah.  She would have been adored whether we were her parents or not.  We are the blessed ones, because we get to love and nurture her. 

I also feel sadness for Sarah's birth mom, who sacrificed the chance to raise her for reasons I'll never know but I'm sure were difficult to accept.  Adoption is a beautiful way to create a family, but, by definition, it starts with loss, for the birth parents, the adoptee, and often the adoptive parents.  There's no getting around that.

This morning, I was feeling a bit anxious as we sat in the front row at church, waiting for Sarah to be baptized.  A toddler baptism is nerve-racking for all involved, as there's no telling how the independent little soul will react.  Sarah was good, although not too pleased with the attention.  She cried and resisted when the minister marked her forehead with the sign of the cross, but she was quiet otherwise, moving back and forth between Don's arms and mine.  She spent the rest of the service charming the congregation with games of peek-a-boo and cheesy smiles. 

Don's daughter Emily and her husband Omar were Sarah's sponsors, and they arrived last night with two-year-old granddaughter Sophia.  Sarah and Sophia are getting to know each other bit by bit and played together for a while this time.  It was the first time that Sarah's had another toddler playing with her toys, and she accepted it pretty well, except when Sophia had her favorite stuffed dogs.

As the day draws to a close, I wish all the remarkable women I know a Happy Mother's Day.  Every one of you mothers in some way, making the world a more loving place.