Mother's Day this year...

[July 2021: This post was written back in May. I never posted it because I couldn't quite finish it. But I'm just going to write some conclusion and publish it so that it stops sitting in my "Draft" box. I can always go back and update it, right? 😆]  

I've felt a variety of emotions through the years of celebrating Mother's Day. 

As a young girl, Mother's Day was about showing love and appreciation for my wonderful mom. Almost every year, the children at church would perform a song about mothers, and a youth speaker would talk about his/her mother. And we would make a craft either during church or activity time. I can't remember a single craft I made, but I still remember the sweet Mother's Day songs I learned. "Mother I love you, mother I do..."

Then I transitioned into young adulthood and went off to college, far away from my parents. My first Mother's Day in a young single adult ward (congregation for 18-30 year old) was so different. One, every single speaker said something to the effect of "Being away from my mom has made me appreciate her so much more". Poignant yet amusing. Two, no children singing. Alas!😭

But it got a little embarrassing too. If I happened to be in a family ward on Mother's Day, there tended to be a segment when church leaders invited "all women, married or not" to stand up so that the youth/ children could give a Mother's Day gift/ token to us. I cringed...though I quickly got over it because free gift!😁 Plus I knew Church leaders had no ill intentions and were just trying to be inclusive. 

As I grew into my late-twenties, Mother's Day took an interesting turn. In one of my last young single adult wards, some women got offended when the men gave them something on Mother's Day because "we aren't mothers, and our identity as women isn't defined by motherhood because we are strong women who are so much more than that, so stop giving us gifts on Mother's Day". Maybe-confession: I might have been one of those women because I was deep in feminist literature then. I genuinely cannot recall! But thinking back, it was kind of sweet of the men to do something. It would have been inappropriate if they started singing "Mother I love you..." but giving us a gift? Awkward gesture but again, no ill intended. [Also, I'm pretty sure the next Mother's Day, the men did ZILCH. Such a pity.] 

When I moved home, Mother's Day went back to being a delight. I loved being back in a family ward where the children and youth performed on Mother's day. I appreciated celebrating my mom in person. And I didn't care if someone wished me "Happy Mother's Day". In fact, it was nice that social media made a conscious effort to include women who had lost a child or could not have children. [I also think social media has also gone too far in being politically correct on Mother's Day...but that's for another post.] 

So I was caught off-guard when an unexpected wave of sadness and loneliness washed over me as I sat in church last Sunday. As I parsed through my emotions, I realised that I was feeling...grief. Grief for the children I don't have. Grief for the children I love now but who will never call me "mother" or "mine". Grief for a lifelong, deep-rooted dream that is dimming with each passing year.  

I know motherhood isn't limited to having children by birth, marriage, or adoption. I can still be maternal and nurture other people's children. Part of why I adore my nieces and nephews and the children at church is because I can't have my own, so the next best thing is to be the best aunt.

But no matter how much love and energy I pour into them, there will always be a distinction. I can be the best "mother" to these children but I will never be their mother. 

Perhaps these emotions are coming on because I'm turning 35 this July. For some reason, 35 feels like a giant milestone where I stop deluding myself as being "still young". The biological clock is officially counting and winding down! 

I've been richly blessed in other aspects of my life, so please don't think I'm bitter. I'm also 100% aware motherhood has its own challenges and difficulties. But my challenge is dealing with the fact that I can't have children, and no amount of being the awesome, fun, "kick-butt" aunt will fill that void. (And please don't start on the whole "it will come in the next life". It's cold comfort for THIS life. Thank you for understanding😅.)

So to all the young mothers in my immediate social circle, I hope you understand why I'm that over-zealous aunt who goes around spoiling your children. Feel free to tell me to back off, but I really mean no harm. 

[Update in July: I'm feeling 100% okay now. These waves of grief come and go. Singlehood (can be) awesome!]