I really thought I would make it through mother's day this year without grief. Considering what I have been through this past three months, I'm not sure why I was delusional. I guess it was my coping mechanism, trying to gain control of what I had lost and proving to myself that "I'm okay".
And yet, mother's day morning, I'm in Atlanta sitting by the aisle of the second row at church. The first song is energetic and my spirit is high, only for it to be brought down in humility and weakness as the worship team performs "More Than Able" by Maverick City. Memories of the pain of my third pregnancy loss weaken me. Memories of my anger towards God humble me. Yet I hear God tell me that "anything is possible". I hear God tell me that no matter how I feel or what I do, He is more than able. My husband is feeding me tissues throughout the worship set. He remarks about me in hindsight not needing to wear makeup for service. I'm glad that I wore minimal makeup because I could've gone heavier. I compose myself as we great our neighbors in the congregation. There's a swift break for me until I turn around and see a pregnant woman with her husband. It stings, but I genuinely wish her a happy mother's day. We sit down to watch a video celebrating mothers and I keep my head down because the clips of mothers holding their babies is too painful. As the video ends, the stage proceeds to greet two families with their children. They're dedicating their new babies today. If you don't know what that is, it is akin to christening but without the baptism. I squeeze my husband's hand and let the tears run down my face. Three times in one year, I've had unsuccessful pregnancies. Here I am, another mother's day grieving a miscarriage.
With last year's mother's day, not only was I grieving the loss of a pregnancy, I was also grieving the loss of the idea of a family dynamic I had created in my head whereby I was an equal in the eyes of my step son to his father and his mother. I had loved this boy as my own and wanted him to love me as much as he loves his mother. If not his mother, at least as much as his grandma. Although he does love me, I am further down the list. And so I had to accept and grieve my reality. So this year, I was completely fine and happy that he was spending the weekend with his mom. That makes sense. I also didn't expect anything from him. Besides, for the first time in years, I was going to fly down south to be with my mother on mother's day. Having my grandmother visiting from Nigeria was the cherry on top. And so with that, I though I would be safe from any sadness. But alas, although I am step mom...I still am not a real mom yet. At least, that's how I felt on Sunday. And thus, another bittersweet mother's day as a childless step mom.
On my Instagram, I advised my community to not have any expectations in preparation for mother's day. Instead to take the day as it is. And while that advice made it easier for me as a step mom on mother's day, I don't think anything could've shielded me as a grieving childless woman on mother's day. So with that, I want to let the women in waiting to keep the faith and have hope. I'm right there with you sharing the pain. I'm praying for you. And I'm celebrating your strength. It'll happen one day, when the time is right.
And to the step moms out there, the Sunday after mother's day is Step Mother's day! I'll be publishing my thoughts on that in a few days. Stay tuned! And if you like what you've just read and are interested in more, feel free to join my newsletter!
Love you all!!
Comments