Mother’s Day, a day to celebrate the women who raised us and the women who are currently doing the raising. To me, this is a day that at least should, in theory, celebrate more than just women who have procreated. It’s a day when I can celebrate being a mom but I can also celebrate the strong women who have helped shape my life and the lives of my daughters in some way: my mom, grandmothers, aunts, cousins, and dear friends, some of whom are mothers and some of whom are not. Without these women, I would be more than lost. All of them in some way have paved my path to success. My mother, a polished mom herself, is always willing to lend a helping hand or a piece of advice. She taught me everything I know and is now helping raise a new generation right from the center of my living room. My grandmothers, neither of whom are with me anymore, showed me what it means to love deeply and to always stay young at heart. I wish every day that my girls could meet them, but I know on some level that they’re still showing me the way. My aunts and cousins who are integral parts of my journey through motherhood. Matthew and I are both only children, so Clara and Eloise will never have known the joy of aunts, uncles and cousins if it weren’t for these fine women lending themselves and their own children to fill that void. And finally, my dearest friends who are my daily support system; they keep me sane, grounded, and honest. They don’t always understand (or even want to understand) the motherhood issues, but they listen with open minds and kind hearts, and they love my daughters dearly. I am and forever will be indebted to these women, and I hope they all know how very much they mean to me and my girls.
Mother’s Day is also a day to take a more in-depth look at what it means to be a mother, something that looks different to everyone and changes drastically over time. Because I’m a mom, my house is cluttered with dolls, pacifiers, trains, baby swings and stuffed animals. I rarely light candles or watch something on television that isn’t animated, and my furniture is covered with stains and spots. Because I’m a mom, have stretch marks on my belly and will likely never want to wear a bikini ever again, not that I was ever really able to rock one before the births of my daughters anyway. Because I’m a mom, I spend the majority of my days in yoga pants that have holes in them because I don’t have the time or body to buy new ones, but I assure you my kids look great because of their constantly updated wardrobes. Because I’m a mom, I order things like breast shields and lactation cookie mix on Amazon and get annoyed when they aren’t available with same day shipping because I want to be able to milk myself with the utmost success every three hours. Because I’m a mom, I spend my days questioning whether I put deodorant on, partly because I honestly can’t remember and partly because I have one of my daughters’ bodily fluids on my shirt. Because I’m a mom, planning a night out for wine with a girlfriend or mimosa brunch on a Sunday doesn’t seem just difficult, it seems impossible. Because I’m a mom, these sacrifices have no end in sight. I will sacrifice countless things in my future: free Saturdays for dance recitals and soccer, a full night’s sleep for hours of worry, days at work for days at school attending IEP meetings, stable bank accounts for higher education, the sense of sanity for the sense of pride… the list goes on.
And because I’m a mom, I put the needs and interests of two little girls before mine even though people (family, friends, society… even social media memes) keep telling me not to lose myself in motherhood. The thing is though, these girls are my needs and my interests, and despite the fact that motherhood is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. There are so many women out there who are longing to be mothers and it just hasn’t happened for them yet, so believe me when I say I know how fortunate I am to be living this messy, chaotic and challenging life.
So in closing, I dedicate this post to all of those who struggle with Mother’s Day. I ask that each of you reading this takes a moment to think of these people today, and to celebrate them as well. Those who have lost their moms and spend this day reminiscing and wishing they could call her just one more time. Those who have lost their children and whose hearts will never completely heal. Those whose moms or children are unwell. Those who wish so badly to be moms and who spend their whole lives working in some way to make that dream a reality. Those who wished to be moms but it was never possible for them. Those who have strained relationships with their mothers or their children. Those who live too far away to see their moms or their children on a day that is meant to spend together.
