State of Love & Trust

Well, it’s been a minute. I’d planned to share Sproutie’s report card from Dogtopia, but then there were Birthday parties to be had, cakes to bake, wishes to make, shark Easter Baskets, and laundry. I guess I deserve a failing mark in parenthood planning. And now it’s Mother’s Day, so what better time to size it all up and decide if we’re making the grade.

Last year, I spent the day alone. My first Mother’s Day without Bean. Sproutie was just a baby and hadn’t been planted here yet. It was a sad day for me. I call myself “Mom,” but I’ve never gotten comfortable claiming the title around mothers of human children. In a Dogtopia, maybe I could swing an honorable mention.

I miss Bean every day, but that day was particularly hard. I felt a void I’d never felt, a void maybe only a mother could feel. I felt homesick. Barren. And then I felt guilty for drawing the comparison. Yes, she was a child to me, but the void I was feeling could only extend as far as my experience could fathom. I’m sure a real mother would say the same.

I’ve thought a lot about Motherhood over the years. Finally comprehending the magnitude of sacrifices my own mother has made for me, for our family. I became a part of new families, watched friends become mothers and others say goodbye. I’ve watched loved ones I know in my heart were just BORN to be mothers, grieve for children they’ll never hold. It’s heartbreaking. It’s beautiful.

I made a decision not to have a baby, or at least, procrastinated long enough to make it implausible. In my world, indecision becomes a choice. Like so many other things, I chose not to choose. I accepted all the lives that may have slipped away. And I carry the weight of them with me. What if I’d chosen differently? What if I’d tried and tried and failed to create this ideal life I’d purposefully chosen? Or what if I’d done it all and it was taken from me? It happens all the time.

And yet, I’ve stressed to these loved ones and friends that Motherhood doesn’t define us. We’re more than just mothers and daughters and empty vessels. We give birth all the time – to dreams and ideas. We love and ARE loved. We change. We grow. We thrive.

Motherhood is a state of being. “Mothering” is a verb. We have life-giving opportunities every day. We have chances to mother and be mothered. I’ve been held and shaped by many amazing women in my life. I’ve had mentors and caregivers who’ve nurtured me through countless seasons of gratitude, grief, and growth. Every one of these mothering souls is much more than the wisdom and love they’ve shared with me. Every one of those hearts has infinite capacity to mother, but it’s still only part of who they are.

And if that statement proves true, we can all experience our own adaptations of Motherhood. We get to decide who we mother and who we allow to mother us. We get to choose who we become, whether we actively choose or passively stand by and wait. I guess I’m a waiter.

I’ve been fortunate to find my way with words, with my family, with my friendships, with my dogs. I tap into the mother inside me, the mother who lives in all of us. And I’m grateful for every moment I’ve spent nurturing another life.

Mother’s Day is hard for those who’ve struggled, who’ve tried, who’ve questioned and wondered. For those who’ve loved and lost, or feel small in comparison. But that’s NOT what this day is for. It’s a day to recognize all the ways Motherhood is instrumental in our lives, and in the lives of others. It’s a day to celebrate the Nurturer in all of us, to honor the Mother within.

Happy Mothers Day, Everyone!

– 🌱L.