COMMENTARY: First Mother’s Day is a dream realized Sunday
Even though I’ve been on this earth nearly 38 years, my role as a mother was born on July 2, 2010, when I gave birth to my daughter, Isabella.
After more than a decade of trying to conceive, my dreams of becoming a mother were realized.
In the past, I would look at Mother’s Day cards for my own mother and wonder if I would ever be blessed to receive one from my child. Would I ever get a little knick-knack with the word “Mom” on it? Would I ever wear a mother’s ring? Would I ever hear a child cry out, “Mommy!” and be the one they were crying for?
I felt it, deep down inside. I was destined to be somebody’s mother. I didn’t know how that would happen, because after all those years of trying, I began to think it wasn’t what God had in mind for me.
It was something I wanted so desperately. So maybe I was manifesting these feelings for something to hang on to. I felt that if I still had hope, I still had something.
I would cry on the inside when the mothers in our church were recognized on Mother’s Day. I wanted to be one of those lucky women who received a gift in honor of their day, who stood up while the congregation clapped for them.
The Lord knew what he was doing, of course, and those feelings I had were real. It just took a lot longer than I anticipated for them to be validated, to come to fruition with the birth of my daughter. And like I’ve said before, “God may be slow at times, but he’s never late.”
Last Mother’s Day I was pregnant, so to me, it wasn’t my first “real” Mother’s Day. But I did receive cards and gifts as if it were. My mother recycled a few of her gifts that I had given to her in the past. She gave me a hanging angel that said, “God cannot be everywhere so he made mothers” and a wind-up snow globe that said, “Home is where mom is.” Those were the first things that referred to me as a mom. I will cherish them forever.
The time has gone by so quickly as Isabella is now 10 months old. I don’t want her to age any quicker than she already has but I cannot wait until she’s old enough to give me her first homemade Mother’s Day gift. Maybe I’ll get a card she scribbled on or maybe something with her handprint. Whatever it is, I will proudly display it for all to see.
And while it seems a bit trivial now, I have to admit, I’m looking forward to being recognized at church on Sunday. I will gladly stand up and listen to the clapping of the congregation. But inside I’ll be saying a quiet prayer, thanking the Lord for making me a mother.