Mother's Day has become, let's face it, the very definition of a Hallmark holiday. It started after the American Civil War as an opportunity to celebrate mothers and maternal bonds, and has become a reason for fathers to do a lot of panicked last minute shopping to maintain their happy homes. As a mother of an infant, Mother's Day should have been a holiday where my husband had the opportunity to appreciate the hard work I do as a Mom.
Of course, that is not to be for me, or for many other single moms out there. Despite this, I had a lovely first Mother's Day; I went to brunch with my family, my nephew bought me flowers, my Mom and Mother-In-Law both gave me gifts in Sophie's name (I'm sorry, I mean Sophie gave me two gifts), my sister-in-law and her family sent me a gift, and I received many seasonal wishes from friends and family alike. And, most importantly, I got to spend a relaxing day home with my daughter, who laughed at my silly faces and wowed me with her new-found ability to sit up independently. Under the circumstances, I have no complaints. Obviously though, the circumstances suck. I found myself at many times, today and throughout the week, devastatingly sad that Ryan isn't here to make me breakfast in bed. Of course, then I reminded myself that he never would have done that anyway. Cracking the eggs alone would have perplexed him. But, the point stands. I don't even have the opportunity to complain that Ryan refuses to make me breakfast in bed.
At my worst point during the week, I broke down crying, thinking how much I wanted Ryan to be the one giving me a Mother's Day gift. I was home alone with Sophie that night, and when I started crying, she was awake, looking at me. I wondered what she must have thought, a seven month old, watching her Mommy crying, for what to her must have seemed like no reason. As desperately as I wanted to lie down, put my head in my hands and just cry, I didn't. Instead, I stopped, wiped my eyes, smiled at Sophie, and took her upstairs to get her ready for bed. I sang her a lighthearted song, made silly faces at her, and made her feel loved and taken care of. And as it often seems to, the most amazing thing happened. She returned the favor.
I have many observations on motherhood in general, and widowed motherhood specifically, but they start with this; it's hard. Being a mom is always hard- being a single mom could be harder, and being specifically a widowed mom could be harder still, because of the implications of the grief you're struggling through. Grief makes you feel like less than a complete person, and as a single parent, you're striving every day to fill the roles of two complete people. It's tough for half a person to suddenly have the strength and resolve to fill the roles of two people. Regardless of all of that, motherhood is hard for anyone. It's always going to be hard, and there will be times that you just want to give up. Sometimes they'll relate to your child- sometimes they won't. But, moms can't give up. If they do, their kids will suffer the consequences- and no good mom wants that. Moms have to wipe their own tears, put on a smile, and take care of the helpless being in front of them. Okay, the smile is optional (but recommended). But, even though it's hard, you do it as a mom, because you have to. Who else will? And if you're a single mom, seriously, who else will do this for you? Grandparents are amazing (and probably the single reason that I didn't lose my mind in the first few months), but the responsibility held by a mother is beyond compare.
But, it's not all bad- and that's what Sophie shows me every day. As hard as being a mother can be, as exhausting and emotionally depleting, it hopefully comes back to you. If you're doing it right (which I sincerely hope I am), the reward of being a mother balances out the responsibility. As you're being held solely responsible for the life of another human, that other human is pouring its love back into you, without even making a conscious effort to do so. That night that I was home alone, crying over the hole in my heart where Ryan should be, Sophie saved me a little bit just by being there. Then she saved me further by giggling at my funny faces. Then she saved me all of the way by snuggling into me as she fell asleep. The hole in my heart is still there (and as deep and painful as before) - but Sophie has awakened a new place in my heart, a place that I didn't know I had before. Being a mom makes you do and feel things that you didn't know you could do or feel. It sounds like a cliche, but being a mom makes you live for something other than yourself, and in doing so, gives your own life more meaning. As any mom with an infant who won't sleep the night can tell you, it breaks you down first - and then, hopefully, builds you back up.
When I first thought about writing a blog post about some of my observations on motherhood, I thought I'd write something else. Even when I sat down to write, I thought it would go in a different direction. I'm not even sure now what it was I was going to write. The point is, I have a lot of observations about motherhood in general, and my experience specifically. I hope that I get to share more of them as I continue to experience them and grow as a mom.
To every other mother out there, I hope you've all had an enjoyable and rewarding Mother's Day. Sure, it's a made up holiday, but we deserve it. To my own Mom, thank you. Thank you for being a wonderful mom, a wonderful grandmother to my daughter, and for helping me through the hardest times in my life even while I'm sure it has been very, very hard for you. To my Sophie, thanks for giving me something to live for, and for building me back up, a little every day. You don't even know you're doing it, but thanks all the same.
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