What If You Will Be Sad And Lonely On Mother’s Day?

Will you be sad and lonely on Mother’s Day? Will you sink into depression in the days leading up to it? Does this holiday in May make you cringe? I know this time of year can be wonderful, but I also know it can be difficult for various reasons. I’m here for everyone.

I was born into Foster Care and adopted as a baby. My beginnings always make me wonder if I am thought about by the woman who carried me in her belly this time of year. Am I counted among her children? It makes me sad when I have to look to my children to see how genetics springs up and don’t have a history before my birth. I imagine being lonely on Mother’s Day is a sort of adoptee birthright. Maybe it’s our only birthright.

Will you be lonely on Mother’s Day? I see you.

This Mother’s Day, I see the anguish of the single mom who doesn’t get help on any Sunday, much less the second one in May. I see the overwhelming tiredness of the brand-new mom who feels like she should be overjoyed on her first Mother’s Day but secretly longs for a break from the baby and four uninterrupted hours of sleep. To the empty nester who has realized her children have grown up and now sits in a very clean, very quiet home, I see you.

I see the mother who still doesn’t know how to answer the question, “How many children do you have?” because one of the fruits of her womb is in Heaven. It stabs her heart that she will never get a Mother’s Day card from him. You don’t think I hear the sorrow echoing in your voice or see the half smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, but I do. I see it, and I’m sorry.

You, in my mom’s group, who will be spending her first Mother’s Day as a motherless child. And you, friend for life, who has always felt like a motherless child. I saw you in carpool when your eyes got glassy, saying it was too far to travel to see your mom. To my own mother, who has spent years of Mother’s Days away from her three girls and 12 grandchildren because distance proves a worthy adversary, I see you. And I’m sorry.

[In case you don’t get a Mother’s Day card, here’s what your kids would write in one to you…if they could.]

I see all the birth mothers and stepmothers and aunts-who-are-like-mothers who don’t get the attention a mother deserves and feel left out and isolated. To the would-be moms who aren’t moms yet despite the trials and tragedies they have endured, I see you. I see the moms who are lonely and sad and disappointed and hurt. My heart is with you all.

You aren’t alone.

To the lonely on Mother’s Day, know you are not alone. Your pain is not going unnoticed. You have an ally wishing you the best. Please know it won’t always be this way. Your pain won’t always be this fresh. Your sadness won’t always linger.

While you wade through the muck of your feelings this Mother’s Day, know that God loves you. Whether you can feel it or not, He is carrying you. Be good to yourself. Buy yourself something special. Take yourself out to brunch. And know that I’m rooting for you.

Happy Mother’s Day.