The "It's Okay, Really" Day, Also Known As Mother's Day

We've been "trying" to have kids for a while now.  A long while.  We haven't been strict with it, we haven't followed any sort of rules or patterns, but it just hasn't happened yet.

So, as we enter the time of year where mothers and fathers are celebrated, we brace ourselves for whatever might come our way.  We prepare to hear sermons about how great parents are, we get ready to walk past the flowers at the end of the mothers day sermon without taking one because they are, after all, for mothers.  Jim gets ready to listen to fathers talk about their kids a little more as fathers day draws closer.  I know my internet searches will be filled with coupons and advertisements for mother related things and that everywhere I go, everything girly will be meant for "mom".
But, while I would love to be a mother and look forward to one day raising kids with my husband (who will be an awesome dad), it's not earth shattering to me right now.  God has given me peace that I don't need kids right now.  I'm enjoying my independence, the thought of maybe getting the house paid off before kids, getting to make my marriage even more solid before more people are added to the equation.

It's okay, really.

 Then we prepare for Mother's Day in a different way.  Jim lost his mom to cancer not too long ago.  We prepare to hear from Lezlie, his older sister, who took the loss harder than any of the siblings.  We worry about Gail, who didn't get to have her mom at her high school graduation.  We think about her and remember the good things she did and taught and the not-so-great things, too.
And we think differently about Father's Day this year , too.  My dad is in the middle of chemo treatments.  My big, strong, indestructible dad is ill almost constantly.  And with his health and the loss of Joan we remember that we don't have the luxury of younger parents (quite the opposite, we both had older parents) and that if we aren't blessed with children soon, they may not know their grandparents.  Which would be terribly sad.
But, I know that whatever happens is supposed to happen.  My dad was a good dad and a great dad now that I'm an adult.  We are closer and talk more about everything now than when I was a kid.  And if he or any other parents pass away before our kids come along, we are ready to tell them all about their grandparents and where they went.  And what is more exciting than talking about Heaven and how great someone we love is?

It's okay, really.

I prepare for other things on Mother's day. Since a lot of people know we have been trying to have kids, I will get the kind pats on the back from those who understand that it might be a difficult day.  From others, we will get the standard, well-meaning but nonetheless a little frustrating comments--"when are the two of you going to start popping them out?", and "someday you'll have your own and you'll think mother's day isn't enough" or "you guys have to hurry up and have kids, you can't wait forever".  (Side note: If you have ever said the last one to anyone, do me a favor and stomp on your own toes.  It's rude and can be extremely painful to people who are trying or who long for children.).  And maybe like last year, I'll receive a pity flower from one of my students at the back of the church with the "you will be a mother someday, you get a flower now", which is always very sweet.
I take the kind words and the sweet gestures for what they are and appreciate them.  The comments, I do my best to ignore or understand that people don't think to filter their words or they might not know or understand what it is they are saying.

It's okay, really.

And lastly, I think of others on Mother's Day.  I think of my closest friend and how hard this weekend might be for her.  I think of how amazing she will be and how blessed those kids will be when she gets children into her home.  I think of my friend Adrienne, who is a mother of 6 young ones and puts up with more comments from outsiders than anyone else I know but has some very well behaved kids.  I think of Laura, who adopted two beautiful girls close in age and is loving them to death.  I think of all of the women who have suffered from a miscarriage and my heart hurts for them.

But for me, it's okay, really.  I'm not just saying that or putting on a front.  I'll be patient and He will direct my paths.

It's okay, I'm okay.  Really.

Happy Mother's Day.