Weddings and Babies
It’s Mother’s Day, a day to celebrate the love and relationships of mamas and their babies. To reflect on the amazement of the life-giving and life-sustaining, supernatural phenomenon of motherhood. Whether a biological mother, a mama who adopted, a stepmother, a loving presence, mentor and example to others, God has given us women a “sixth sense” the ability to know when someone is hurting, and to love and nurture those around us. Being a mom is the greatest calling of my life and the hardest, most rewarding title I’ve ever owned, but there was a time in my life when I actually dreaded Mother’s Day…
If you know me or have read my blogs, you know some of my story. Tom and I were married very young and had our babies young. In fact, I was just 18 years old when Madeson made me a mama, and 20 years old when I had Brooks. I loved being pregnant, and I adored my babies (still do!). Tom and I were living in Albuquerque, almost 1500 miles away from all of our family and anything and anyone we’d ever known. We literally had nothing to our names, but I felt like we had it all! When Madeson was born, Tom was working on base and going to school at night. We had only one car that Tom had to use to drive to and from work/school, which meant it was just Madeson and me most days in our little Northeast Heights apartment. She was my best little buddy, my constant, my lifeline. I was young, but I was a good mama. It felt natural to me, and I was proud to be a mother… but I quickly learned to feel anxious, and almost ashamed, due to the way other people acted toward me. In public or at the parks, I often had to explain “no, I’m not the babysitter. I’m their mom.” At Dr. appointments on base, I was treated by very judgmental nurses and doctors, and many thought I was the daughter of a service member who’d been “knocked up.” I felt judgmental eyes on me in the grocery stores, or at the mall. It made me feel bad, like I was guilty of doing something wrong, or that I wasn’t deserving. It was a terrible feeling. While pregnant with Brooks, his heartbeat couldn’t be detected when I was about 12 weeks along. The OB doc on base worked hard to persuade me to terminate the pregnancy and said “you’re young and already have your hands full with one baby, and you can have another child in a few years when you are older.” Though he said he was concerned about my health, I refused because I just knew God had answered my prayer of giving me my son and I couldn’t bring myself to go through with the termination, even though they were convinced he wasn’t viable. I often wondered if they may have done more tests or tried harder if I’d been older, or the wife of an officer… Scared I would miscarry at any moment, I prayed and the elders of our church prayed over me, and two weeks later, after several phone calls from the nurses and another “talk” with the doctor, Brooks’ heartbeat was detected on ultrasound and I continued a healthy pregnancy and was blessed with my healthy, beautiful boy. Yes, I was young, but I just knew God gave him to me! It felt horrible to be so pressured and made to feel like I didn’t know what was right for me because of their perceptions of me. Again, the weight of judgment just felt so heavy…
Every year on Mother’s Day at church, flowers were given to moms in the congregation: the oldest mom, the youngest, the mom with the most children, etc. Every single year I came home with flowers for being the youngest mom. Instead of feeling proud and grateful, I felt embarrassed. I remember walking the aisle to retrieve flowers from the pastor and the confused, judging eyes on me as I'd walk back to my pew. As much as I loved church, this was a day I dreaded. Sometimes I would even lie about my age to avoid awkward conversations and feeling the need to explain myself to others. It was exhausting… Years later, when only in my mid-20’s, we adopted Romain. Again, I quickly found myself in the familiar place of having to justify or explain that, yes, I’m his American Mom, feeling that I had to prove that I was able and deserving of the title. As I’ve matured in my personal growth, spiritual walk and relationships, I have come to own my story - all of it. I’ve stopped omitting the information that may cause others to feel uncomfortable and draw conclusions about me. I now share my truth and the blessings of in my life. Being a mother (and now grandmama) is still my greatest joy, privilege and responsibility, and it’s the role I’m most thankful for.
You may remember my friend, Janice, from my “Choose Joy” blog post. She made an impact on me in so many ways. I can’t wait to see her in Heaven one day and tell her how much her life, her cancer battle, and her sweet spirit informed my own journey and life. She has three beautiful daughters who were young adults when she passed away. I remember us girlfriends praying for “weddings and babies” for Janice to experience before her final days. Ugh. The past couple of holiday seasons since my diagnosis, as we’ve been surrounded by our children and grandbabies, I have thought of my sweet friend, and of “weddings and babies” and have felt humbled by the gift of experiencing these blessings early in my life.
Today, I’m ashamed that I was ever embarrassed, insecure or ashamed of my story. God has been so, so good to me and His faithfulness has sustained me in every season of my life. God has ordained my story, ordered my steps and has blessed beyond anything I could ever earn or deserve. I think when God blesses us, it’s our responsibility to share that with others! Today, I am overwhelmingly grateful to have been a young mama and to have adopted my precious son as a young woman, and to be grandmom to 8 precious children. I proudly own my story and give all the glory to God for the gifts in my life. What started as a young, fragile sapling has become deeply rooted, and strong, and I pray for many more years of growth and the continued courage to share God’s goodness and my life story with others.
If you’re struggling with experiences from your life, I encourage you to share your story. There is freedom and relief there. I promise you, whatever you’ve experienced in your life has purpose for your future. You may not even realize the wisdom, knowledge or talents those experiences have given you, but God can and will use them to help others. Be proud of where you’ve come from and where you are and thank God for the victories along the way! :)
Happy Mother’s Day!
“But he who practices the truth comes to the Light, so that his deeds may be manifested as having been wrought in God.” - John 3:21
“Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.” – Proverbs 31:25-28