Celebrating You – The Childless Woman On Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day is right around the corner, and while it’s such a beautiful thing to celebrate the mothers in our lives, I know this day will be very painful for many of you. It used to be one of the hardest days of the year for me.

I just want to first start by saying that I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry another Mother’s Day is coming and your arms still feel emptier than ever before. This pain is real and it’s deep, and my heart aches with yours.

You may end up doing what I used to do on this day–skip church, or run out right before it ended so I didn’t have to talk to anyone. I would stay home from all the restaurants that day because it was too difficult to see everyone proudly walk in with their little ones, knowing that they probably woke up to flowers and breakfast and that new shiny necklace around their neck. This day felt like it only existed to celebrate everyone who got the opportunity to make it into this “exclusive” club that for some reason I just couldn’t get into no matter how hard I tried or how much money I spent.

But there’s something God put on my heart that I shared several years ago that I believe needs to be shared again. And that it is this: even if you find yourself childless again on this day, this day is still for you too.

There are so many women in my life who have cared for and loved on my daughter in the most motherly way, and they have yet to have kids of their own. There are women who did the same for me, and yet they never gave birth to me. That was who I was before I had Scarlett. One time during my infertile years, I drove two hours in a snowstorm just to spend a few days with my best friend’s newborn. I gave up sleep just to get up and do a couple midnight feedings for this baby I didn’t share an ounce of DNA with.

And for all the women out there who do this too? I think those women deserve a day of celebration and recognition also. Because these women are mothers too.

Many of them are mothers who have conceived, but lost. Who have loved, cared for, bathed, changed, and rocked someone else’s child because of their deep love for them. Mothers who have prayed for, cried over, and put hours and years and thousands of dollars into trying to become pregnant with the child they’ve dreamed of. Who have invested into, suffered for, and mothered their children long before their babies were ever in their arms. They are mothers who are still waiting on the child who has been promised to them once the paperwork goes through. Who carried their child in the womb only for a short time. Who only got to see their child turn 5 but not 6. 

Most of these women don’t look like mothers. They don’t have children to dress up on Sunday morning. They don’t get a flower at church. They don’t have kids to take photos with or get homemade cards from. They don’t have their child’s initials displayed around their neck. 

But they are mothers. They have a mother’s heart. Her intuition. Her dedication. Her love. Her commitment.

So today I celebrate these beautiful women. This is some of the most sacrificial love I’ll ever see and have ever experienced myself. Because when you’re a mother like this, you’ve learned how to pour out love and hope and perseverance in the midst of deep grief. 

And there’s not many things more motherly than that.