I get it. I know how much this day hurts.
I know because I was that girl. I dreaded every pregnancy announcement, every baby picture, every holiday that had something to do with being a parent. I remember the jealousy that raged inside of me every time one of my friend's got pregnant on accident. Why not me? I remember vividly the disappointment and wondering every time that only one line would come up on that test: Will I ever get pregnant? What is wrong with me? Why did my baby die? Am I just not meant to be a mother?
I'm sorry, sweet friend. I'm sorry that this is the road you have to walk, and I'm sorry that I can't take the pain from you. I'm sorry that I can't give you a baby. I'm sorry that the women who are pregnant and have babies don't seem to understand how painful this road is. I'm sorry that treatment is so expensive and that insurance companies see very little reason to cover it. I'm sorry that the pain is always there, but it's like your heart is split wide open again on these Hallmark holidays. I'm sorry that your baby left your womb too soon.
I see the pain in your eyes when you're invited to yet another baby shower. I see the hurt when you're asked when it's going to be your turn. I see you distancing yourself from your pregnant friend because the grief is too much.
Then there are the women who have a baby this Mother's Day, but are still grieving their children gone too soon. I'm sorry that the ache never quite goes away. I'm sorry that the love you have for your little angels isn't combined and given to your living child.
I choose to celebrate YOU this Mother's Day, sweet friend. I celebrate you because you are a mother to someone who is so precious, so loved, and so pure, that they are spending eternity with Jesus. I celebrate you because it is far harder to be a mother to an angel. I know you already began to plan your precious little one's life. What their personalities would be like, what their nurseries would look like, would it be a boy or girl?
For my friend who got another negative pregnancy test, the girl whose IVF has failed again, the one whose adoption fell through, and the friend who is grieving a miscarriage: I celebrate you because you are still a Mama, whether through miscarriage, stillbirth, or infertility, you are a Mama in your own way. You mother those around you with a grace and strength that is beyond understanding. You are not forgotten. You have the right to grieve and feel lonely. I know that Mother's Day is hard, and it's okay to want it to disappear; it's okay to cry. Know that you are not alone, darling. I'm with you, and I grieve for you and with you. You are incredibly inspiring, strong, and brave-even if it doesn't feel like it. I pray that your womb is healed of the cysts-that the doctor's reports would have no ground- that you would rest in an overwhelming peace knowing that you are loved by the Most High- that you would see the day that God is faithful and fulfills that deep longing and desire in you to have a baby of your own.
I love you, darling. Be blessed this Mother's Day.
And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them. Romans 8:28