Mother's Day

Yesterday was Mother's Day and I awoke to Eisley trotting into our bedroom hollering "Hi mama! Hi mama! Book?!" She shoved the large book she was lugging onto the bed, grappled up onto the sheets with me, and anxiously awaited for me to begin turning the pages for her. As I started reading, she sighed sweetly and settled into me. My heart could just burst.

At risk of repeating myself, becoming a mom has been the most challenging and most rewarding job I've ever taken on. I've been required to draw on reserves of energy, patience, and silliness that I didn't even know I had. I have ached with joy and ached with worry. Since I learned I was pregnant over 2.5 years ago, my priorities (and I mean every priority) have drastically changed, and I can hardly recall how I made decisions or planned my days before E.  I wake up each morning looking forward to exploring with her and making her laugh. And I am so grateful that we have a day set aside to recognize the value of moms (and dads, next month!)

In the midst of all of the kindness and joy bestowed upon me yesterday, my thoughts kept drifting to another mom; the mother of our second child.

In all reality, we may not know much about our child’s birth mom, or learn her birth story. We may not know if she was sick or well, or the struggles she carried in life, or the full circumstances that led to her child’s arrival in the crèche. We may not know what her extended family looks like or the ancestral traditions they would want to pass down.  We won’t know the nicknames she gave her child, or if she liked to kiss the soft soles of her feet to make her giggle.  There is so much we will not know.

What we do know is that this woman carried our daughter for many months. She felt the joy of her kicks, and the pain of her labor, and bore the greatest gift that could be given. She has left an indelible impact on our lives, and in this we are forever tied. So while I don't know this mom, and may not ever meet her, I will celebrate her.

I pray that the circumstances under which this woman’s child becomes ours are not as painful as I fear they might be. I hope that she knows that I will love her daughter as fiercely as I love Eisley. And most of all, I hope she knows that I am honored to do so.