Some Mother’s Days…

Sometimes Mother’s Day doesn’t look like the ideal photos posted all over social media the last couple of days. But neither does being a mom. Not many post their moments of crabbiness or when they yelled at their kids over something little or minor. Or when they got really frustrated. Or for some it is the pain of negative pregnancy tests or months of waiting for an adoption or the heart break of a life lost too soon. Or the dreams of being a mom fade as their hope for love and marriage seems more and more faint. No one posts their midnight worries or tears shed in the dark quietness. And yet all those moments make up motherhood as well. They aren’t as pretty or tied up with a nice bow and smile, and that’s ok.

I carried two babies, one born early and spent time in the NICU with tubes and machines connected and humming, one born on time but we were told initially while I was pregnant with him that he had a major heart condition and would need open heart surgery on day 1 of life, it ended up not being so, but I remember that fear and worry. And then I have three, carried for 9ish months in wombs on the other side of the world, loved on by volunteers in babies homes and then cared for and loved deeply by the sweetest foster families until governments decided I could be their mom. I have the awesome and at times overwhelming privileged of being their mom, but not on my own doing or strength. Had it not been for my own mom and her care and love and example in my life and how she stood by my side and even traveled across the ocean with me I would not be their mom. Had it not been for the NICU nurses, OB nurses, OB doctors, Respiratory Therapists, Echo technicians, that saw and cared for each of my little bundles on both sides of the ocean I would not be their mom. The birth moms gave me a gift as they chose life for their little ones, the social workers worked hours upon hours finding and helping get the little ones families. And the foster families loved and cared deeply for each of them until they came home. And because of each of them and the work that they did, I am now a mom to each of them.

I know there are many with empty arms and hearts on mothers day and they don’t fit the traditional title of mom, but every woman plays a vital role in motherhood, whether through their profession, their friendship, their care or in some way, their love spreads over and affects the children. It does take a village, and we each have a role and I am grateful for all the “moms” in my life and in my kids lives.

And so here’s my photo from Mother’s Day….my lunch that I finally got at 3:00 in the ER that the paramedic cooked on the grill in the ambulance bay….we were so busy it was the first time I sat down. Clint brought the kids by briefly, but they mostly ate in the call room by themselves as I was too busy seeing patients. And my parents stopped by and I got to give my mom a hug as things had finally slowed down. Yeah so it’s not the traditional Mother’s Day photo that most have, but its ok, Mother’s Day doesn’t always look the way it “should”…and neither does being a mom…in whatever form that takes.