“How many children do you have?” inquired the woman sitting next to me on the park bench, her toddler peacefully dozing against her chest.
I felt a wave of sadness wash over me. I hesitated and replied that I was a caregiver, gesturing toward the trio of kids I had brought along. Then, I quickly excused myself under the pretense of checking on them.
The longing to become a mother was wearing me down. It seemed effortless for so many around me, as they welcomed children into their lives like it was simply as easy as heating a meal in the microwave. And not just any children, but those with angelic smiles, chubby limbs, and adorable dimples. Then there were the expectant mothers, constantly rubbing their blossoming bellies while sharing tales of midnight cravings and family opinions on their parenting choices.
Even in the supposed comfort of my own home, I couldn’t escape the reminders: diaper commercials, baby shower invites flooding my mailbox, and the catchy tune on the radio celebrating romance and family. My journey to motherhood felt like it could be the plot of a dramatic Lifetime movie—“based on true events.”
After enduring a year and a half of perplexing illness, I was finally diagnosed with a chronic autoimmune disorder, teetering on the brink of death. It was during a five-day hospital stay that I realized my path would lead to adoption. Making the decision to adopt was the easy part; the waiting was excruciating.
Contrary to the common refrain that couples struggling with infertility should “just adopt,” the process is anything but simple. It involves countless hours of paperwork, home evaluations, background checks, and financial strain. And after all of that, the anticipation can stretch into weeks, months, or even years before receiving the call that would make you a mother. All the while, you witness others becoming mothers multiple times over from the sidelines, grappling with your own sorrow.
The truth is that I am not alone in my experience. Many “other moms” share similar struggles each year on Mother’s Day and beyond. There are foster mothers who tirelessly nurture children not their own, mothers grieving multiple miscarriages wishing for just one healthy pregnancy, and those who have endured the unimaginable loss of children. Birth mothers, who made the brave choice to place their children for adoption, often carry that heartache with them. Even surrogate mothers, who selflessly gave their bodies to bring joy to others, can mourn the little ones they nurtured.
Fortunately, I eventually found my way to motherhood, welcoming four beautiful children into my life—two daughters, a son, and another daughter. Each adoption brought its own unique challenges and uncertainties. My children have first mothers who are integral to their stories, and we honor them every Mother’s Day.
To all the other mothers out there, know that you are in my thoughts this Mother’s Day. I understand all too well the feeling of being an outsider, and I see your pain and vulnerability. I acknowledge your losses and the dreams that remain unfulfilled. Remember, this day is also yours to claim, and however you choose to observe it is entirely valid.
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In summary, Mother’s Day can be a complex landscape of emotions for many. It’s a day that encompasses joy, loss, and the myriad paths to motherhood. No matter your journey, your feelings are valid and deserve recognition.