When there's no greeting card for my kind of Mother's Day

May is one of my favorite months. Mostly because it’s the month when I celebrate my birthday, and since I was a young child, I’ve loved my birthday! But it’s also when spring is in full swing. There are hints of summer. Swimming pools open. The school year begins to draw to a close.

And the month of May is when we celebrate Mother’s Day.

Mother’s Day has become a tricky holiday for me over the last several years. For most people, it’s a day to celebrate - and for some women - a day to be celebrated.

But for others, it’s a painful reminder of difficult circumstances, sad memories, a longing unfulfilled.

There are those who weren’t mothered the way they wished they had been.

There are those who wish they had mothered differently.

There are those who gave all they could and still feel like they fell short.

There are those who have fully embraced all that motherhood has brought to their lives.

There are those who have mothered (and are still mothering) children they didn’t give birth to, but their hearts birthed a love they couldn’t have imagined.

There are those who have mothered (and are still mothering) children they didn’t give birth to and are questioning what their role really is in the lives of those children and whether or not what they’re doing is noticed or appreciated.

There are those who lost a child far too soon.

There are those who are missing the daily-ness of mothering because their children have spread their wings.

There are those who are enjoying the new adventure of an empty nest.

There are those who look forward to the day they’ll hold their unborn children.

There are those who have chosen not to have children and have felt judged or criticized.

There are those who have chosen not to have children and feel very secure in their decision.

There are those who chose to not carry their child to full term and have navigated the winding road of the outcomes of that choice.

There are those who have received the diagnosis of “infertile,” and are navigating that winding road.

There are those who are missing their mom.

And there are so many other situations that make Mother’s Day a tricky holiday. It's not possible to list every person’s circumstance, but I want to say no matter where you find yourself this Mother’s Day, no matter what emotions are rising to the surface, be kind to yourself. 

Your situation matters. 

Your heart matters. 

You matter.

A few years ago, as another Mother’s Day was approaching and I was yet again not looking forward to the day, a friend said to me, “You don’t have to have the greeting card version of that day. You don’t have to do what everyone else is doing. What is it you want to do? Go do that!”

Somehow, on the particular subject of how to spend Mother’s Day, I hadn’t realized I could choose. That new way of thinking - I can choose - changed so much for me. 

The desire for children is still there. The ache of longing to hold my children is still there. But now it matters far less to me where I am on Mother’s Day or what I’m doing. I get to choose how I want to interact with the day. And so, I wish my own mom a Happy Mother's Day. I send Mother’s Day greetings to my friends who are moms. I reach out to those in my life who are also in a place of waiting and longing. 

And I can choose to unplug from all of it and spend the day doing what I want to do.

I can choose.

And you can choose, too.

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If the ability to choose is a new idea for you or if you’d like help navigating choices in your life, send me an email or schedule one-on-one time with me. And consider subscribing to my blog where I post lots of helpful suggestions on how you can begin (and continue) this journey of recovering your blueprint!