Christina Suplee

Mother’s Day is a day that always stirs up a lot of emotions for me, and I know I’m not alone. I think about the pain that I went through trying to get pregnant, and I know I’m not alone. I think about the hours I wondered if I would ever be able to celebrate today, and I know I’m not alone. I think about the tears I cried, the prayers I prayed, and how much I begged God to let me be a mom, and I know I’m not alone. And yet, my story doesn’t stop in sorrow.

And I sit in awe as I type this with my two boys in the other room. They truly are gifts from God, given directly to me. And several years ago, I felt like God let me in on his little secret, and now I understand the pain and the sorrow and grief a little deeper. I have an appreciation almost for it, because THEY were worth the wait. If I had gotten pregnant right away, those two boys in the other room wouldn’t exist. Some other children would. And God wanted THOSE two boys, and I can see why.

And I also think about how much more I cherish them, because I had to imagine a world without them in it. My pregnancy with my first was physically tough; I got preeclampsia at the end, and that was just the cherry on top. I look back now at everything my body went through, and I wonder how I did it. But in the moment, I didn’t care. I remember repeating over and over “THIS is what I prayed for!” with so much gratitude. I truly didn’t care about how sick I was, or how awful I felt, or about passing that stupid kidney stone, because I was finally pregnant, and I was going to have a baby.

And that mentality has stayed with me. On the hard days, on the tough discipline days, in the tough parenting stages where they want to push all the buttons, I find myself pausing and remembering, THIS is what I prayed for. They are God’s gift to me, and God chose these two boys specifically to give to me. And I wouldn’t change a thing.

I think about Sarah as she waited for Isaac. I can see why she gave Hagar to Abraham. God promised her a child, and she waited. And she waited. And she waited. Have you ever thought about what was going on in her mind? I know what I went through…my body is failing. Why can’t I get this right? What is wrong with me? Will this ever work? Will he still love me if I can’t get pregnant? What will my life look like if I can’t get pregnant? Why me? Why is this happening, again? I thought for sure this would be the time. I’m scared to hope anymore. I can’t even pray for this anymore. God, you have let me down. God, I don’t know if I can trust you. God, are you really good? God, do you really love me? God, are you there? God, you say that you control the womb; why are you doing this? Why did Eve eat the dang fruit and bring the curse on all of us?

And yet, Isaac was born. After years of waiting. After Sarah taking things into her own hands. After her laughing. (my guess is because she didn’t have any more tears left after the years of waiting, and she was so hopeless that the thought of this promise actually happening was so scary that she could either laugh or cry). And yet, my two boys were born. There was joy at the end of my sorrow. And here, I know too that I’m not alone, and yet some of you are not here yet. You are still in the sorrow.

I don’t know where you are today. It might be full of celebration and joy and gladness. It might be grief and deep heartache as you cry out and wonder if you’ll ever be able to celebrate today. It might be a different grief as you remember your mother who has since passed. And you miss her hugs, and being able to tell her and call her with all of the wonderful news in your life. And man, what you would give for just one more…hug, kiss, conversation. I’m so sorry you cannot send your mom a Happy Mother’s Day message today.

So, now matter where you are on your journey today, or how you’re feeling today…know that you’re not alone. To all the moms, Happy Mother’s Day. To all of those wishing you could hear those words from your future child or say those words one more time your mom, I see you. You’re not alone.