If You have Mothered

If you have mothered, I am holding space for you on Sunday.

I am holding space for you:

If you just saw the faintest positive on a stick, and are dreaming hopes and dreams for the life inside you.

If you just received the call from the adoption agency that you have been matched.

If you just left the ultrasound office and heard the words "There's no heartbeat."

If you are up nursing or making bottles all night, falling asleep as you feed your baby.

If you had to return the crib, and buy a casket.

If you are drinking lemonade and poking your belly while your partner patiently waits to feel those (not so) little kicks.

If you are making a birth plan.

If you are having to rethink that birth plan.

If Sunday comes, and no one acknowledges the life growing inside you.

If you are greeted on Sunday with homemade breakfast in bed of Lucky Charms, OJ, and broccoli, or some other toddler perfected meal.

If you receive a card with a child's growing hand print on it.

If you receive nothing.

If your children are with another parent on Sunday.

If illness, distance, death, quarantine, toxicity, or something else separates you from your own mother.

If you were not mothered in the way you needed or deserved.

If you have mothered and nurtured and healed yourself.

If Sunday will involve holding hands of little ones.

If this is the Mother's Day you've always dreamed of.

If you're dreading Mother's Day.

If you have invited children, preteens, teenagers, and adult children into your home, served them food, listened to them, made space for them.

If you are a parenting bonus (step) children, and love them deeply as your own.

If you are parenting bonus (step) children, and are desperate for the mother/child relationship that has not come.

If you are handed flowers on Sunday.

If you can't bring yourself to go to church on Mother's Day.

If you're on your fifth round of IUI, and longing for a baby to fill your womb.

If you had an emergency C-section, vaginal birth, planned C-section, home birth, hospital birth, birth center birth, or " can't even make it to the car" unintentional home birth.

If you breastfed. 

If you bottlefed. 

If you're a single mom, longing for support and affirmation.

If you're a single mom, and grateful for and loving it.

If some days you don't like your children.

If some days your heart literally aches with joy and love for your children.

If you are not called to be a mother in the traditional sense.

If you are juggling IEP meetings, therapist appointments, and homework.

If you are your children's safe place.

If you didn't have a safe place as a child.

If you're raising a beautiful child of the LGBTQ rainbow.

If you are reimagining what you expected motherhood to be.

If you are a grieving mother.

If your partner loves, affirms, and appreciates you on Sunday and every other day.

If your partner forgets it's Mother's Day.

If your partner remembers Mother's Day and does not acknowledge it.

If you plan your own Mother's Day brunch.

If you're grateful not to have an extended Mother's Day celebration.

If you ache to hug your mom.

If you're an addicted mother.

If you want to skip Mother's Day.

If you think you deserve a parade on Mother's Day.

If you just got the diagnosis.

If you're counting down til bedtime.

If you sneak in to watch them sleep before bed, and stare with wonder at how they're so beautiful. But for the love of God, please don't wake up.

If you're secretly hoping they crawl into bed with you, one last time.

If mama cuddles solve all their problems.

If you don't trust your child's other parent.

If you're scared for your child's life.

If you know the feeling of your heart walking around outside of your body.

If you long to know the feeling of your heart walking around outside of your body.

I am holding space for you, if you have mothered, been mothered, needed mothering, long to mother.