Movin On Mom’s Day

A twitter follower suggested that Mother’s Day might be painful for me.  My response, indirectly, is yes and no.  I am sort of past all the intensity of it.  It just leaves me sad.  I have been living this for almost thirty years. My daughter will be 29 this week.  Thirty years is a great deal of time to either sit and wallow in the muck and mire of adoption surrender or to move on.   In many ways I have moved on from the deep sorrow. I am left with a dull sadness.  As I told my twitter friend, it is what it is.

Sure I thought of my daughter on Mother’s Day. How could I not?  But the days of expecting anything from her, or anyone for that matter, have long past.  I think of her, I peek at her online (she posted pictures of the brunch she had with her adoptive mother), and I move on.

I moved on by spending a really wonderful day with my sons.  My oldest continues to recover from his traumatic brain injury and my youngest continues to have the biggest heart of any child I know.  My youngest woke me Sundaymorning by making too much noise. He was awake before the entire house (typical) and was blowing some sort of whistle.  I was annoyed to be woken so early on Mom’s Day. I bellowed from the top of our stairs “S, be quiet! People are sleeping!”.  His response, somewhat sheepish, “…but I made you breakfast”.  My heart wrinkled.
moms day breakfastI woke after all and found him downstairs proudly displaying the coffee, OJ, waffles (toaster, Eggo) and whip cream breakfast.  The waffles were cut into small hearts and were used as eyes on the plate. Below that was a dollop of a whip cream nose and a whip cream smile.   “I figured out how to make coffee! I do not know if it is any good though” he said with excitement.

The waffles were meh (not a fan of toaster waffles) and the coffee was equally meh.  The juice had pulp. I ate and drank it all.  My heart swelled. (I later ate a full breakfast my husband made me).

Early afternoon my son’s and I went to visit my sister and mother. My oldest son picked out flowers for both of them. My sister was shocked at the gesture. My mother, who had no idea I was coming down to visit, screeched out loud when she saw us in my sister’s back yard. Following my sister’s we went to dinner, then to the movies.  My boys laughed and smiled and teased me at my lack of Marvel character knowledge. We saw Avengers – Age of Ultran. Sorry boys! Mama is a DC comic’s girl (though I was drawn to Elizabeth Olsen character Scarlett Witch).

Through it all I mused over the day, how many mother’s struggle with it where others enjoy the celebration. I fall somewhere in the middle. Consider me a moderate.  While my heart swelled with love from and for my sons, it was a bit dampened by the lack of my daughter in my life.

As I said to twitter friend, it is what it is.

Moving on.

6 Thoughts.

  1. I would say I am the same…moderate, as a mother and a daughter. My adoptive mom has passed away and the sting of it is a bit less each year. My own kids have gotten past school age so no handmade gifts with glue and tissue paper anymore. I am in reunion with my natural other but being in touch on Mother’s Day still feels a little hard (same for my birthday). I usually try to be in touch a few days before or after. I was glad to exchange texts with many of my women friends, those who empower me as a woman and a mother. But shy of that it was a typical Sunday here.

  2. I read your post and related to it in a different way. You know my story all the way around from gehring and beyond. My mothers day was spent alone. My youngest made me pancakes and then went to spend the day with her boyfriend. Nothing from the oldest and i get it but it hurts. You got to spend time with family whereas my family is non-existent. I find myself trying to figure out where to fit in. My friend sandra whom i bonded with in philadelphia after the tragic death of her grandaughter is a very good friend, but at the end of the day is not family and i am reminded of it around holidays, birthdays and other family functions that i am invited to but again am not really a part of. So i get where you missing your daughter on that day. I too am missing not 1 but 3 , 2 of which are my naturals. I’ve contemplated whether to tell malia about the way she ended up with my parents. Someone told me not to.give excuses as to why it happened but to own up to it and certainly not spill the beans prior to her nuptuals. I was told to be happy that i have been invited to participate in her special day and to tell myself that i did the best that i could do at the time and that if malia wants to talk about it she will…or not…

    • Hugs Carol. FWIW, I agree with whomever suggested you share with Malia. Also agree doing it after the big day. I disagree with the person who told you that you should feel lucky that you were invited.

      BTW, have you ever read any books about mothering written by female adoptees? You might like. I can recommend a few. For some reason your comment reminded me of the unique challenges adoptees face in mothering (let alone natural moms and being that you are both you have extra challenges).

  3. I think I was coming to have some peace with Mother’s Day. It used to be sort of reserved for a day of wallowing that I didn’t allow myself the rest of the year. Then I had my daughter and it was sort of confusing, but I was learning to just enjoy being with her. But then my reunion with my son, and the single year he called me on Mother’s Day. And then my reunion “failed,” for lack of a better word, and things got kind of ugly for me again. This year was the first year I felt mostly okay.

  4. Pingback: Happy 29th Birthday | Writing My Wrongs

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