Mother’s Day 2016

As I woke up this Mother’s Day Sunday morning, I finally decided…

I had been wrestling, even tormenting myself analyzing the situation and debating myself. “What do I do when they ask Mothers to stand?” For many years, Mother’s Day has been very difficult. You see, I am a faithful churchgoer…who faithfully dreads Mother’s Day Sunday.

I’m not sure exactly when it began. In the early years of marriage, it was not an issue. I enjoyed being married to my best friend. Sure, we had our difficulties…finances, fights, and fears of the future. I never thought it would include fertility problems. I assumed one day we would have children. But I was OK either way. I mean, bringing a child into the world means bringing an ETERNAL soul into existence. That is a BIG, SCARY thought for me. There are already many children without parents who need a good home. In my heart, I dreamed of adoption.

But it never happened. As the years ticked by (19 now), my longing for children increased and the possibility decreased for a slew of reasons. I threw myself into my work and education. I accomplished my lifelong goal to become a doctor. And yet we remained childless and my arms empty. Mother’s Day became an increasingly difficult reminder of my infertility, my “less than” status as a woman, that God didn’t trust me to be a mother, that I didn’t matter as much as other women, that I would die alone without children. A myriad of lies tormenting me. If possible, I chose to work instead of going to church on that day. But sometimes there was no excuse. I was faced with being one of those left sitting, clapping, smiling putting on my joyful mask to hide my pain. To make it worse, the day was typically accompanied by baby dedications as well. Then to pile it on, I felt incredibly guilty because of my emotions and for feeling the way I did. Torture, pure mental and emotional torture.

Then the call came on January 20, 2016. “I need you to come get the baby.” My sister was yet again entangled and ensnared by her poor life choices. She was going to jail again. If my husband and I didn’t obtain legal custody, the baby would go into state foster care. We could not allow that.  We now have legal temporary sole custody. Our lives have been turned upside down. Life is being lived in the margins. It is tiring and chaotic without enough sleep. Even in the midst of uncertainty that causes heartache and pain, we are beyond blessed with this precious miracle.

But who are we? Aunt & Uncle? Mama & Daddy? Foster children call their foster parents mom and dad. We have no desire to “steal” anyone’s baby. We simply answered the call. But we HAVE bonded with her. She has bonded with us. She often cries fiercely when we leave her with others. We are her legal custodial parents even though “temporary”. But what is she supposed to call us? Other people call us mama and daddy to her. Should I correct them? To do so would potentially open the whole can of worms of what’s happening. I really don’t want to discuss that casually and repeatedly. It’s easier to just let them call us mom and dad. I did not birth her, but I daily “mother” her. Based on past history, it is more likely she will remain with us than return to my sister. I feel like she’s my child. At the same time, I feel like I’m an imposter, a traitor. I feel like I’m living one of those Lifetime Movies where a woman steals a baby, lies to the child and raises it as her own. But we didn’t choose this! But now wouldn’t change it either. Such conflicting emotions and thoughts!

Then came Mother’s Day, and it really hit home. Am I a mother? Do I stand? What if one of my family members or my sister sees it or hears of it? In my mind, I can see and hear the sneers, “Who are you kidding? You aren’t her mother!” But if I don’t stand am I saying that I don’t want her, that I don’t care to be her legal guardian? Am I rejecting the fact that I am daily doing what a mother does? I again tortured myself in the analysis. In fact, I seriously considered skipping church, because it was just too much to process.

The morning arrived. When I woke up even in my groggy state, I suddenly decided, “I’m going to stand up.” In that moment, I realized I may NEVER have this opportunity again. I cannot let it pass me by. We don’t know how long she will be with us. But for now, I do “mother” her no matter what I am called. I am STANDING in for my sister who made an extremely wise decision in the midst of a lot of bad ones when she called me.  I am praying for her to continue making wise decisions. I am praying for her to be released from the bondage and demons of addiction. I am thankful that she has given us the privilege to experience the joys and the tears of parenthood for whatever time we have with this child. Today I am honored that she (both my sister and the baby) gave me a reason to STAND UP on Mother’s Day.