This Mother’s Day

It’s the second week in May and it’s just a busy time in my life, full of celebrations. My brother-in-law is graduating on Friday evening, the conclusion of his schooldays, the commencement of a future bright. My sister is due to have her second baby next month which means little Alex is going to be a big brother and I am hosting an intimate Blessing God’s Way shower this Saturday. {And it’s Mother’s Day on Sunday.}

As much as I love my mother-in-law and my own dear mother, I feel more dread than delight when that second Sunday of May approaches, the day when the whole world honors mom. Mother’s Day is a calendar date associated with deep pain in my life.

And I can’t quite figure out why a day I dread so much is a day I constantly think about these last three days.

I remember the Mother’s Day we got home from my in-laws and I cried and asked Ryan if he thought I’d ever get to celebrate Mother’s Day for myself? 

I remember that Mother’s Day someone spoke a blessing over my life and said that they thought my life would touch so many that I would someday be the “mother” of many, and I remember how I inwardly cringed and later told Ryan, “I don’t want to be the “mother” of many, can’t God just let be the mama of one? Just one?”

I remember the Mother’s Day that I sat in church with pursed lips feeling stone cold, because my miracle baby was dead. Three years ago, on May 4th, I woke up thinking about how that Mother’s Day I would tell everyone that I was pregnant, almost eight weeks along. Later that day, that fateful Tuesday, my baby left my body in an ugly rush of blood. I remember the confusion I felt, sitting in the bathroom at work. My hands shook, my head ached, and I remember how I wished that I could wish it all to stop. But I couldn’t and I remember how I felt as though I was bleeding out and losing not my baby, but my heart. And that Mother’s Day I thought I’d be announcing good news, I sat stone cold and silent.

Mother’s Day is just around the corner again and this year two of my church girlfriends are newly pregnant.

And I’m not.

But all I can think about is Mother’s Day and that lonely ache throbs, to know what it would be to hear my own baby’s heartbeat for the first time, or feel a life flutter and move inside of me. To grow large with child, to grow wide with love…for one of my very own.

That Mother’s Day has not yet come for me and I know that there are other women out there in my camp too. If you are one such woman and you are reading this, could you receive this word from me, a friend on the journey?

It is easier to shut down and build a wall of protection around your heart then it is to crack open and reveal and live the broken shattered pieces. Don’t do it. Openly bleed and let your soul be seen. Redemption is a miracle, the filling of every wide-open fracture with unimaginable beauty and it’s only how we can live and how we can love and how we can mother. 

Embrace the beauty of womanhood and believe this with me, that there is no such thing as being a barren daughter of God. Be pregnant with the life God has called you to live and this Mother’s Day? Delight in the beauty of being this woman, wholly captivated, blood-bought, redeemed.  And this weekend? Celebrate! Because Mother’s Day is not just for the women who have carried a baby inside their womb for nine months. It is for all of us women who have wiped a child’s tears and hugged a child’s heart and tickled little toes and given of ourselves to nurture the next generation. 

To believe this is to believe in the power of redemption devastating every earthly incapacity, the impossible being made possible in an Almighty way.IMG_7854IMG_7302Kyle_and_Renee_zoo2IMG_6714IMG_0045


8 thoughts on “This Mother’s Day

  1. Thanks for your post, Renee. I hate Mother’s Day and I’ve been dreading it. You just made it a little easier for me, so thank you.

    P.S. I wish we could meet, I think we could be great friends 🙂

  2. you know my heart for you..You put in words what i cannot. The words tell the pain ..the pictures betray the beauty of who you are above and beyond the pain.:) I am so Grateful for you. Thanks for sharing your story..

  3. Thanks for sharing your heart Renee and daring to let us see into the realness of your life.
    I have been through miscarriages , but have never been where you are….obviously.

    Mothers Day is hard for me, for other unrelated reasons than not being able to have children… in a tiny way, I can identify.

    Your a beautiful person.

  4. What a hard, beautiful call- bleeding openly. I need to hear this, though my situation is different from you. Mari said it well, this is real life. I love you!

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