So, How Does a Mom of Seventeen Really See Mother’s Day?

The cat is out of the bag.  For those of you who don’t know — yes, it’s true. To set the record straight, I have been pregnant seventeen times, and I had the most awesome experience of giving birth to eleven living children!  Six of my children left my womb much too early to survive outside of me, and one more baby could have survived outside of me, but his little heart stopped beating too soon.  He was born still.  I’ve had both ends of the spectrum as a mom — giving birth to wailing, flailing babies, and having to say good-bye before having the opportunity to see and hear all of the wonders of delivering a live baby.

So, what does Mother’s Day mean to this mom of so many?  How do I feel — really?  Was it all worth it?  Would I do it all over again?  Well, here it is straight from the heart.

Motherhood is the hardest thing on face of this earth!  Your body is stretched every which way, you gain 40 or 50 pounds and stay sick day and night for four months or more, you go through bouts of indigestion, throwing up, leg pains, cramping, and being kicked constantly from the inside out — and that’s all before the baby is born!  

Then, you go through hormonal rages and changes and waves of ups and downs that send your emotions off the charts.  Not to mention the brutal pulling apart of your body to get that little stinker that took 9 months to grow OUTSIDE of your body so that you can begin to take off the 40 or 50 pounds you put on and reverse this whole process again to get back to “normal” — which by the way there is never “normal” following the birth of a child.  Normal flies out the window the minute you are pregnant!  Never is a woman the same!  

Here are two of my daughters touting their full size bellies in all of their glory!  Blame it on the genes — we like this thing called motherhood! 
For the first year following the birth of each of my children I was in a trance-like state simply studying their little faces.  Watching their every movement.  Feeling their heart beat with mine.  Worrying through fevers and colds and unknown viruses.  Sleepless nights with babies that got their days and nights mixed up.  Changing thousands of diapers.  And, breast feeding.  Yes, this old body of mine was determined to breast feed every single one of the eleven, and that I did!  Baby and I were attached in more ways than one!

As my kids grew older, I grew older, too.  I thought about more things than just feeding and diapering.  Were my kids happy?  Was I giving them enough attention?  Were they developing as they should?  Did I read them enough books?  (Let’s just say, they had enough books to fill a college-sized library!)  Was there enough of “me” to go around for them?  Kids don’t get it — they don’t get this part of motherhood until they are parents themselves.  And, you learn early on this is a pretty thankless job until much, much later in life.  Okay, I promised to be truthful, right?   
All days with kids are not easy days, nor are they all fun!  When the crying hits a pitch so high your ears are going to break and you’ve cleaned up so much throw up that you begin to throw up, and you know you still have 20 hours left before a new day, often my only option was to sit down on the floor and cry right with them.  And, cry we did!  My kids and I have shared many wailing moments together.  Hmmm…I wonder what they thought when they learned I could cry just as loud and just as long as them? 
But, then you get back up and brush yourself off, look at those smiles, get smothered in those slobbery kisses and it’s all worth while.  For a while — it’s all worthwhile. 
Before you know it, they’re very mobile and into everything.  And, this was the beginning of the most difficult stage of motherhood for me.  My kids were inquisitive.  I guess that’s a nice way of putting it.  There were broken bones, stitches to the eyes, head, chin, knees, legs and various other places.  Scrapes, falls, knots on heads, bloody noses and…..well, there was a lot!  I have very little remembrance of a lot of these “moments in motherhood” because it’s just too terrifying to remember.  They outnumbered me, and to stay I couldn’t keep up with them is an understatement.  It was during this stage of motherhood that I began to ask the question, “What in the world have you gotten yourself into, girl?  This stuff is real!  And, there seems to be no end in sight!”

The old adage is true, “They grow up way too fast.”  After about the hundredth prom, school dance, basketball game, baseball came, dance recital, band concert, chorus concert and who remembers what else, there comes this pause in life when you know that something is shifting in your role as a mother.  As you watch your children pack up their belongings and head off to college, to their jobs, to get married, to live on their own, your heart stops beating the same way. 

My heat stopped beating the same way when my first child spread her wings and began her own life, and my heart almost stopped beating completely when the last of my children walked out the door with her final bit of clothes, and said, “Bye, mom.  I’ll be in touch.”

Sure, you go through days, months, and even years of all kinds of things with your kids.  Some good, some not-so-good, but you’re never prepared for those words, “Bye, mom.  I’ll give you a call sometime in the next few weeks.” 

NEVER is a mother prepared — at least this mother was not prepared. 

My kids are all out of the house now, and I have the quiet I longed for so much back in the days when I heard nothing by crying, fighting, screaming kids.  The door very rarely opens except when I open it to come home after a long day of work.  No more is the kitchen door swinging back and forth with friends coming and going yelling, “Hi, mom!”, and me looking twice to see if that was my kid or a friend of my kids who decided to stay for a week. 

The quiet is nice, but sometimes I find it’s strangely quiet.  I listen for sounds and smile as I remember how I’d lay awake at night (pretending to be asleep) waiting to hear the last footsteps of the kids as they finally settled down to sleep.  That was when I could breathe a bit easier and say, “Thank you, God.  They’re all tucked in for another night.” 

What will I do this Mother’s Day?  Oh, I don’t know.  Probably eat with some of the kids.  They live all over the place and most of them have families of their own, so now I’m more “gram” than I am “mom”, but that’s okay.  I’m growing into my new role, but it’s going to take some time.  I’ll look at pictures a lot and think, “Wow!  That was crazy having so many kids! It was like a nut house at times.  It was like cooking for an army! The washing machine was always going!” I’m sure I’ll do a lot of reminiscing on Mother’s Day — and it will be good!  It will be happy! 
It’s funny how the bad days fade into a far away distant thought, but I can tell you so many GREAT moments spent with the kids.  I remember special moments spent with each of the eleven, and that’s what I’ll focus on this Mother’s Day.
Would I go through all of this craziness again?  Would I put myself on hold for all of those years?  In my case, having so many kids, I really did have to put my needs far away on the back burner.  It took a lot of work and planning and sacrifices to make sure there was food on the table and clothes to wear! Some day I’ll talk about planning the meals for each day.  I got to be very innovative learning how to make food stretch.  It’s part of a mother’s many talents!
So, how do I view Mother’s Day?  I think it’s totally wonderful that there has been a day set aside to honor mothers for all that they have done, and all that they continue to do every day of their lives.  A mother isn’t just a mother until her kids turn eighteen.  A mother is a mother all the days of her life!  And, I love it when my kids acknowledge me with respect and honor on Mother’s Day!  It makes me feel like the most special person on face of this earth! 
Would I do it all over again — have so many kids?  Are you kidding me?  In a heart beat!  I can’t imagine my life without them!!!  A mother gives so much, but she really and truly does get back more!  At the end of a day, I can sit and smile and say, “It is well.  It really is well with my soul.”
PS  This little piece of computer art work was given to me one Mother’s Day by Alex, my youngest.  We had been going through a rough time at home, and I had to take on a full-time job in order to keep the mortgage going.  Needless to say, there was a big change in home life from that day forward.  Alex sent this little message to me, and it served as my screen saver for YEARS!  This flower and sunshine speaks volumes to me — that’s the essence of motherhood.  Flowers and sunshine — gifts from above.
Kids, I love you each and every one — Michelle, Mike, Joe, Tim, Chris, Jimmy, Cherie, Mandy, Marc, Steph, and Alex!  You have blessed my life in millions of different ways, and I thank my God every single day for giving me the honor and privilege of being called your mother!
Love,
Mom 

The Day I Drove My Car Straight Into A Rainbow!

Did you ever have a “miracle moment” — the kind of happening that gives you a knock on the head, a slam against the wall, or a punch to the gut that let’s you know this is for you?  Twenty five years ago, a few days past Mother’s Day was my run-in with a rainbow!

I won’t go into a lot of the gory details, but on Mother’s Day twenty five years ago I was pregnant.  Only this was “not a regular kind of pregnant” because the baby that was inside of me wasn’t alive.  I found out ten days before that he had died and it was the doctor’s strong suggestion (okay, the doctor would have it no other way) that I wait to go into regular labor to deliver this stillborn baby boy.

Not a fun Mother’s Day! 

For weeks following the birth/death of baby Samuel (who wasn’t named until many years later — another story for another time) the only thing I did was cry.  I only had about thirty minutes together with Samuel in my arms.  He was a beautiful little boy, and looked much like my son Tim.  He had blonde peach fuzz for hair, and his eyelashes were strawberry colored.  His fingers and toes were all there and so perfectly formed.  He was such a handsome little fella, but I never got to tell him that — not while he was alive.  And, so my heart broke — over and over and over again it broke. My heart didn’t just break.  It shattered. 

And then about three months later came the most bizarre day I’ve ever experienced when I ran the car off the old country road while crying my eyes out.  There had been a terrible rain storm and I was sobbing as hard as the rain when suddenly, almost as though there was a switch that turned off the downpour, I found myself in a field smack dab up against a rainbow!

I have only seen a few rainbows in my entire life, and this one was not a regular rainbow.  I can tell you that this was a talking rainbow.  This rainbow spoke volumes to me that day! 

Let me assure you I’m not crazy, nor do I make it a habit to run into rainbows with the car or have conversations with rainbows, but I’m telling you this was one of those moments — one of those times when you know you’re getting bonked over the head for a reason. 

I believe God sent me this rainbow to tell me that there was hope beyond Samuel’s death.

Not long after my run-in with the rainbow, my heart began to feel different.  I saw life in a much clearer way than I had before.  So many things that I had overlooked in the past seemed to stand out and shout, “I’m beautiful.  Look at me! This day is for you!  Learn to enjoy it!”  I honestly think that smashing into that rainbow changed my eyesight.  I definitely know it changed my “heart sight.”  We do see with our hearts, you know!

And, that’s when the idea of beginning a healing garden was born.  Why not plant flowers and trees and living plants that would return year after year as a reminder of the miracle and beauty of life?  And, so I began to do just that — plant something each year as a reminder of the miraculous blessing of life!

This giant snowball bush began as a teensy-tiny twig that I ordered through the mail from Michigan Bulb. This is the twenty-fifth year anniversary of that little twig, and the flowers from this bush have been used for wedding bouquets, baby bouquets, anniversary bouquets, and for decorating all throughout the rooms in my home.  Such a hopeful reminder of how life can go on even when we’ve experienced the devastation of the death of a child.  Look how many lives have been blessed because of this little twig planted in memory of Samuel! 

In the fall, the flowers on this bush turn a lovely pink!  A little trick is to feed your snowball bush with some Epsom Salts a couple times a season.  Samuel, look what you continue to give back to so many!!!!

Planted among my healing gardens are hundreds of irises of all varieties and colors!  On this particular morning, this iris seemed to be crying a tear of both joy and sadness with me as I remembered my little boy, along with the others who are missing from my family.  Sadness doesn’t always mean despondency.  I continue to marvel at the details of the bearded iris.  Nature sure is full of beautiful miracles, isn’t it? 

And, so as this Mother’s Day approaches, I will again be planting flowers in memory of Samuel, and in honor of life.  Just today I bought some red dianthus plants and two climbing clematis plants.

A few years ago, some of my family gathered at my son Tim’s home to celebrate a happy occasion.  With me was my grandson Jon who was born just three months following the death of my Samuel.  When I look at Jon I always think of my Samuel — in a wonderful kind of way!  Sure, I wonder if those two would have played basketball together in school.  Would they have gone to the prom together?  Would they have gone on road trips together?  I’m sure they would have been great together, but it didn’t turn out that way.

We are left with choices in life.  Sometimes, life is hard.  Many times things come into our lives that are beyond our control and we wish those things had never happened.  But, we can’t change those things.  What we can change is how we view the heartache that comes into our lives. 

Look for your rainbow.  Pray for your rainbow to appear out of nowhere!  Ask God to direct your path right into a rainbow so that you get that bonk over the head that lets you know that there is hope!  Life does go on, and there are beautiful, wonderful blessings that surround us each day!

Jon is standing front and center in this picture and he will always have a front and center place in my heart!  Samuel, I have a feeling you’re smiling right now.  I know your mama sure is!

Twenty five years later — missed, loved, and still a part of my heart and life!  Bloom, flowers, bloom!  Samuel has a lot of hopeful giving to do yet!

Love,
Mom 
PS  If you’ve been shattered by child loss and need some extra encouragement, please visit here and here.  And, be sure to get a copy of the book, Silent GriefAnd, keep praying for that rainbow!