The Gift of Taking "Pause"

Yesterday was Mother's Day.

I spent the past week dreading it's impending arrival. Yesterday morning, cocooned in my bed and down comforter, I talked myself in and out of going to church and attending our family Mother's Day celebration.

I love everyone in my family so much. I wanted to go celebrate and spend time with them. I wanted the spiritual uplift from attending church. But holy crap on a cracker, I did not want to get out of that bed and face the world with my empty uterus, tragically peanut butter and jelly-free hands, and conspicuously child-free hips. 

At 8:05, while my husband was showering and getting ready for church, my phone vibrated. A sweet text from a friend at church who knew that I was probably going to spend the day blubbering like a walrus gave me just enough motivation to hop in the shower (though not enough to wash my hair) and put on a presentable outfit. I knew I could make it through the first hour of the meeting for the young women, and that we would be learning about a non-Mother's Day related topic. I went, and it was good, and then I hit the wall and left before Sunday School and Sacrament Meeting could commence. I knew that if sitting in Young Women's and seeing babies all over, being held and snuggled and cared for by their radiant mamas had almost sent me over the edge, the rest of the day would be an exercise in brinkmanship of the most dangerous kind. I had a very real fear that in the middle of a beautiful, spiritual talk about mothers and their divine roles, I would flip a nutty, start sobbing hysterically, and lob a hymnal at the pulpit. Which probably would just get me committed to the psych ward and not help me get an A+ on Project Baby. So we went home before I could use any hymnals as projectiles. 

We went to my in-law's for the rest of the day. There was something soothing about worshiping in the church of family yesterday. Surrounded by darling little nieces, nephews and cousins, I watched them discover, investigate, laugh, pout, and love. I have no doubt that Heavenly Father blessed me with positive feelings yesterday, helping me to focus on the pure love and joy of these sweet babies, instead of only the heartache and sense of incomplete that was gnawing around the edges of my spirit. I didn't feel resentful, or jealous, and losing those pangs of emotion made it easier to absorb the sadness I did feel and blot it out with the sweet experiences of being with family. And the great stories of cousins eating directly out of buckets of powdered sugar, and the antics of my brothers-in-law always brings a smile to my lips and heart. Just look at these darlings!

I missed my mom a lot yesterday. I wanted her to be with me, laughing and hugging and just spending time together. Living 2,000 miles away from home makes holidays like Mother's Day a little difficult to celebrate in the same city. But I know she was there for me, and as we spoke, I felt the very depth of how much we love and miss each other. Motherhood is an eternal bond, and I know that no matter how it comes about, I will someday experience that bond that stretches it's fingertips into the bright promise and shining hope of forever. 

I spoke with my mother-in-law about catching glimpses of our future that can help us make it through until our dreams become reality. I have had so many glimpses. They have been powerful-bright light piercing the choking and suffocating darkness. Sometimes, they don't feel like enough to get me to the next point, but yesterday, being with family was like drinking hungrily from a cool, desert oasis. Heavenly Father is letting me rest right now, and I have felt the touch of His hand upon my shoulders as He has allowed me to take pause. I never knew that "pause" could be such a beautiful and blessed word. 

Yesterday, surrounded by the love and laughter of people who love me and my sweet husband, and touched by the messages of some dear friends, I was buoyed up and given encouragement, and I haven't felt that for a long time. I am especially grateful that the divine hand restrained me and kept me from throwing hymnals at people. Talk about a tender mercy. Love and hugs to all of you mamas, mamas-to-be, and mamas to children that may not have been born of your own, beautiful selves. 

On Mothers

The earliest memory I have of my mom is her scampering through the kitchen, freaking out because I put our cat, Dusty (just a clue as to what sort of cat she was...her nickname was "Old Miserable") in the garbage can and closed the lid. I distinctly remember her wearing a red sweater, and pulling the cat out of the can to rescue her.

I love my mom, Lucinda. She is truly a best friend. She has always been there to listen to me, to support me, and to love me. She read to me, cuddled me, and nurtured me. She taught me to do hard things. She showed me the patience, love and dedication it requires to be a stay-at-home mom, and instilled in me the wonderful values of a committed, dedicated marriage. She modeled how to strive to be better every day. But she was a parent and shepherd, first and foremost. She put her foot down countless times when I was growing up, refusing to let me do things that I thought were completely age appropriate, like not allowing me to attend a Smashing Pumpkins concert without any adult supervision when I was in 7th grade. Or not letting me wander aimlessly through the mall with other crowds of kids. Or being completely horrified when I thought it was the height of fashion to wear stack-heel sparkly jelly shoes with cutoff short shorts to the town library and then to my brother's football practice (let's not forget the fact that at 12 or 13 when this happened, puberty had hit overnight and suddenly there were hips and curves in all the right places), and to never let me wear the shoes with anything but non-form fitting pants again. Instead of letting me do whatever I wanted, and instead of trying to be my "friend," she was my parent, first and always. She protected me. Loved me. Guided me. Corrected me. And now, she is a best friend. I love her more than words can ever express. 

Me and my mom, at our Massachusetts backyard wedding reception, being ridiculous.

I was also blessed to marry into a family with a mother that is every bit as incredible as my own. I don't know why Heavenly Father thought I was worthy enough to have two incredible mothers, but He apparently did, and I am forever grateful. Cindy is a firecracker. With a sharp wit, a passion to learn and understand, and a spine of steel to get her through even the hardest times, she is truly an unstoppable force of nature. I have found a dear friend and a role model. This woman parented FOUR boys, all of which count as two children, because of their energy levels, so she really parented EIGHT boys, and is still sane! Her sense of humor and dedication to finding the good in even the darkest of situations is an inspiration. She welcomed me into her family lovingly, opening her home to me without qualification for visits and Christmas and my many trips to Utah while BJ and I were dating. I have never felt anything but loved, accepted and understood by Cindy. And she raised my sensitive, caring and hardworking husband. I am grateful to her for her friendship, love and hard work every day.

Me and Cindy in Boston, after eating lunch at the Barking Crab.

Mother's Day is right around the corner, and I know it is going to be a very hard day. I will go to church, and see lots of babies with their incandescently radiant mothers (yes, church mommies, you are that beautiful, even when you are covered in crumbs and desperately trying to get your children to quiet down). I will listen to talks about the joys of motherhood, the divine role of mothers, and the eternal blessings of being a mother. I will either cry like a baby through them, or completely shut down and tune it all out as a coping mechanism. Either way, I will go through the majority of that day feeling like absolute crap, because all I want in this world is to be called, "mother." But I can exercise the qualities of a mother now, to prepare to be one when the time is right for me. As a wise and strong woman who has never married and never had children of her own, Sheri Dew captured and defined this important idea for me when she said, 

"Nevertheless, the subject of motherhood is a very tender one, for it evokes some of our greatest joys and heartaches. This has been so from the beginning. Eve was 'glad' after the Fall, realizing she otherwise 'never should have had seed.' And yet, imagine her anguish over Cain and Abel. Some mothers experience pain because of the children they have borne; others feel pain because they do not bear children here. About this...John A. Widstoe was explicit: 'Women who through no fault of their own cannot exercise the gift of motherhood directly, may do so vicariously.' For reasons known to the Lord, some women are required to wait to have children. This delay is not easy for any righteous woman. But the Lord's timetable for each of us does not negate our nature. Some of us, then, must simply find other ways to mother. And all around us are those who need to be loved and led."

I am going to use the weeks leading up to Mother's Day to practice gratitude for my mothers, Lucinda and Cindy. I am also going to seek opportunities to "mother" others. I might not prevent them from attending a Smashing Pumpkins concert unsupervised, or rescue a cat that they trapped in a trashcan, or confiscate a pair of Jelly shoes that should be burned on the ash-heap of history, but I can find ways to practice compassion, caring, love and guidance. I don't think it will make Mother's Day sting any less, but it will be a balm and salve on my soul to mitigate the effects over the long term. 

I love you, moms the world over. Know that you are wonderful, amazing, beautiful and Christlike, and that you are all mothers, even if you have not borne your own children. Hugs.