Truth be told, I've been dreading this Mother's Day. Let's just cut to it. I became a mother this year because Wynray's first mother left her body and this physical world, leaving her husband, extended family, and precious baby boy. Truth be told, it was hard to put my feet on the ground this morning and go through the motions of being celebrated by my sweet family.
Today I dedicate to her.
And today I will give thanks for Aguwa, Wynray's great grandmother who was the midwife for his birth and who celebrated the life of our precious boy by making him beaded bracelets and a necklace.
Today I give thanks to the nannies who cared for my son so graciously, and loved him so well as he transitioned from his birth family to us.
And I am thankful for Cat, our adoption coordinator and "midwife." I have never laid eyes on her, but her kind voice brought me to my knees when she told us that we had a son on the other side of the planet.
I am also thinking of, and am thankful for the women (and men) who mothered Kysa when we left her to bring our sweet boy home.
And while today I'll be thinking of all the women who have mothered Wynray and Kysa, I think of Wynray's birth mother ALL the time. She is with me ALL the time. When Wynray is crying not only do my maternal instincts kick in, but I drop what I'm doing and run to him for her. When he took his first steps I squealed and hugged him an extra long time for both of us. When he's asleep in my arms I breathe him in and stroke his cheek knowing she did it first. When I am exhausted and my patience is thin, I remember her and dig a little deeper into my reserves.
Today I honor the mothers who have passed on, the mothers who have made sacrifices beyond what our hearts can comprehend. I honor the women who have lost their children through death, unethical adoption practices, or whatever choice or non-choice has separated mother and child. I honor the women who are sacrificing and struggling to feed, clothe, and provide a home for their children. I honor the blood, sweat and tears. I pray for healing.
I also honor the women who have not had biological or adopted children of their own, but still embody the verb "mother"...the women who educate and care for our children, heal our sick, create art, protect our planet, steward our animals, and soothe our souls.
And today I'm thinking of my sister experiencing her very first Mother's Day. And my own mother, and my ever present grandmother, who has been gone from this physical world many years, but makes her presence known through flowers and little girl magic.
This year the word mother has become a complex concept for me. This year becoming a mother has become a gift I can never repay.
Just now Wynray and I lit a candle and placed it beside a photo of his birth mother. I whispered "mama" and he pointed to her and smiled his sweet Wynray smile.
And then he rested his head on my shoulder.
Today I dedicate to her.
And today I will give thanks for Aguwa, Wynray's great grandmother who was the midwife for his birth and who celebrated the life of our precious boy by making him beaded bracelets and a necklace.
Today I give thanks to the nannies who cared for my son so graciously, and loved him so well as he transitioned from his birth family to us.
And I am thankful for Cat, our adoption coordinator and "midwife." I have never laid eyes on her, but her kind voice brought me to my knees when she told us that we had a son on the other side of the planet.
I am also thinking of, and am thankful for the women (and men) who mothered Kysa when we left her to bring our sweet boy home.
And while today I'll be thinking of all the women who have mothered Wynray and Kysa, I think of Wynray's birth mother ALL the time. She is with me ALL the time. When Wynray is crying not only do my maternal instincts kick in, but I drop what I'm doing and run to him for her. When he took his first steps I squealed and hugged him an extra long time for both of us. When he's asleep in my arms I breathe him in and stroke his cheek knowing she did it first. When I am exhausted and my patience is thin, I remember her and dig a little deeper into my reserves.
Today I honor the mothers who have passed on, the mothers who have made sacrifices beyond what our hearts can comprehend. I honor the women who have lost their children through death, unethical adoption practices, or whatever choice or non-choice has separated mother and child. I honor the women who are sacrificing and struggling to feed, clothe, and provide a home for their children. I honor the blood, sweat and tears. I pray for healing.
I also honor the women who have not had biological or adopted children of their own, but still embody the verb "mother"...the women who educate and care for our children, heal our sick, create art, protect our planet, steward our animals, and soothe our souls.
And today I'm thinking of my sister experiencing her very first Mother's Day. And my own mother, and my ever present grandmother, who has been gone from this physical world many years, but makes her presence known through flowers and little girl magic.
This year the word mother has become a complex concept for me. This year becoming a mother has become a gift I can never repay.
Just now Wynray and I lit a candle and placed it beside a photo of his birth mother. I whispered "mama" and he pointed to her and smiled his sweet Wynray smile.
And then he rested his head on my shoulder.
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