Not A Mom

Today was Mother’s Day, that famous second Sunday in May when wee kids and their dads (or partners!) present adorable attempts at breakfast in bed to slightly anxious moms, one part enamored and grateful, the other, possibly fidgety to just get out of bed and have a cup of coffee in the kitchen with everyone else.  There are handmade cards and crafty jewelry boxes and personalized birdhouses; usually there are flowers, maybe balloons and even a brunch.  Mothers get showered with attention and affection, perhaps a spa day, as well they should: most moms I know including my own work their asses off (with or without jobs outside the home) just to keep the family trains running on time.  I mostly watch this holiday from afar, since my mom lives two states away, but I am mindful that she loves to receive the attention in the form of cards and flowers and a phone call.  This year she even got a handmade present from me, a photo I took of my brother and nephew, blown-up to impressive proportions.

Motherhood was on my mind a lot more this year.  Not only is my job centered on raising awareness about the plight kids and families face in our country, but I am no longer a spring chicken with lots of time for courtship and pregnancy and baby-having.  For the past year, I have really tried to let it sink in that I will probably not be a mom.  Part of the problem is that for the whole other 40 years of my life, I had just assumed I would be, so reconciling this in the last 12 months all of the sudden got real tender this weekend.

My life is full and beautiful and blessed.  I am grateful every day for my good health and family and friends and colleagues and dogs and hummingbirds and the beach and ice cream and electricity and sunsets and laughter and Ugg boots and clean sheets and glitter and soccer and bacon and airplanes and maps and step-kids and wine and music and bikinis and mountains and tissues which I need right now…

Happy Mother’s Day to all a y’all and please, please be kind to each other, ladies. It really does take a village.

My mom and me, at three months.

10 thoughts on “Not A Mom

  1. I like the update. I wouldn’t worry about not ever being a Mom. It is probably the hardest job, with the most hours, and the least pay. :)

    Interesting picture of you and your Mom too. I figure that was done in the early 70’s. Unique. I like it. :)

  2. All day my sister and I said quietly to each other “Happy (I’m not a) Mother’s Day” ..and then we’d drink more champagne. It’s a total lie and yet totally true. I feel sad and disappointed but blessed,happy and lucky at the same time. Big hugs and love to you beautiful smart girl!

    1. awww, Jennie Lew, still tears in my eyes reading your words. thank you for telling me about your (Not) Mother’s Day and getting it and just letting the feelings be there. hugs and love back at you too. I am SO happy you’re my friend.

  3. I have been on both sides of the mother coin and know the feeling well. It’s good to dig deep about where we are and what is meant for us and to find a way to be okay with the journey. Accept the things… change the things… know the difference… you know how it goes. Love you sister. This photo of you and your Mom has always been the definition to me of just how different our mothers were :) I love it!

    1. you’re one of the few who has seen both sides… I respect that. I purposely did not make this long and intense, not as a way to minimize the importance of the feelings, but instead to honor everyone’s journey. I feel you. I’m praying for serenity! thanks for digging the photo too, I know, Pegs and Vina were a lot different in many ways, but probably shared much motherhood and humanity. xo

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