Mother's Day

I remember well the Mother's Day of 2003, because it was the first Mother's Day that it hurt to not be a mother.  At the ripe old age of 21, I had recently suffered a miscarriage, and I still felt like most days I could barely keep my head above water.  For me, that Mother's Day was like a fresh wave, crashing down on me.

Seven years later, I have three beautiful boys, and I couldn't be more grateful to Heavenly Father for trusting me with them.  I look forward to Adam singing to me in church today.  I love their rough little Mother's Day hugs.  I am truly so blessed.

But I can't help but think about those women who yearn desperately for the title of Mother.  Those who've suffered a recent loss.  Those who are the middle of a great battle with emotion, who (if they are headed off to church today) are flung seemingly to the wolves as beautiful children across the country sing to their mothers.  My dear cousin, who any day now, will lose her first baby to a rare chromosome disorder, for whom we can only pray that her sweet baby will live long enough for her parents to meet her briefly before Heavenly Father calls her back.

It is those women for whom I'll pray today, that they may find strength in their losses, that they may make it through to tomorrow, unscathed by a simple date on the calendar.  I think Valentine's Day without a sweetheart is nothing compared to Mother's Day without a child.