Pages

5.11.2014

Mother's Day

It's Mother's Day, and I will mark it the same way I have for the last two weeks--sitting in Jellybean's hospital room, worrying about his oxygen levels and heart function.  And I've been thinking about how much of a representation of motherhood that is.  Giving up "my" day for my children.  Certainly my mother and mother-in-law have done it for me.  College graduation and law school graduation were both on Mother's Day, and this year it was going to be Jellybean's baptism (turns out he made other plans).  But they both gave up, and were willing to again give up, their day to share it in celebration with me.

Still, I think celebrations are easy to share; it just means a bigger party.  As I sit in the hospital watching all the other moms (and all of this is certainly true of dads and Father's Day), I am reminded of the sacrifices we make as parents.  The very thing that makes tomorrow "my" day--my reason to celebrate--is the exact same reason I don't get to celebrate.  None of this ever crossed my mind.  Not when I was fighting so hard to become a parent.  Not when I knew my kids needed surgery. 

I have spent Halloween and Thanksgiving in the hospital with my kids.  I spent numerous Easter mornings in the ER with my kids.  I have spent my birthday on bed rest, trying to save my pregnancy.  But not once did I ever think I would have to give up Mother's Day.  Why, I can't say.  And why it matters is even harder to pin down. This week will see my 15th wedding anniversary, but missing that to take care of my child at the hospital doesn't phase me--I missed the first one for my grandfather's funeral, and we have missed many more since.  Phil and I have celebrated numerous occasions on alternative days because of crazy schedules or other various reasons.

So I admit to being flummoxed.  Why Mother's Day?  Why a moving holiday manufactured to sell greeting cards?  Why does it matter?  The pre-mom me would be shaking her head and ranting that I should be grateful just to be a mom--and I am.  I am humbled every year that I am able to label myself mother, when that label is denied to many.  And maybe that's it.  I didn't fight for my birthday, or my wedding.  I didn't struggle and wrestle and rage and weep to earn any label as much as I did to be called "mom."  So maybe I don't want to spend Mother's Day in the hospital watching over my baby because being in the hospital means I could lose the very thing that makes me a mom.

And I know that I will always be a mom, regardless of whether I outlive my children, but having two kids with heart issues keeps the reality of that happening ever present.  I am reminded daily of the fleetingness of human life and how precious it is and how important it is to make the most of every moment.  And I struggle and berate myself when I get angry or frustrated with my children because I don't want to regret those moments when my kids do pass.  But I have to balance that guilt with the reality that I have to rest.  I have to give myself permission every afternoon to leave Jellybean's room to go take a nap because self-care is important.

Moms are very bad at self-care.  We feel selfish when we do nice things for ourselves, or put ourselves first.  But Mother's Day gives us an excuse.  No one will begrudge us nice things, or time for ourselves, on that day.  Viewed in that light, it's easier to see why losing the one day society tells me I can loaf off on my motherly obligations is frustrating.  But the solution isn't in the holiday.  The solution is in changing to dynamic.  What if I took 30 minutes a week for self-care?  I would get roughly the same amount of time as the 24 hours of Mother's Day, but spread over the year.  I could have guilt-free me-time that would make me a better mom/wife/employee/self all year round.  I'm not sure how it would work.  It will take some time to refine the idea, but I think it's a good jumping off point.  A place to begin the conversation with myself.  Maybe I can work on it tomorrow, as I sit in the hospital, holding my precious, snuggly, sleeping Jellybean in my arms.  Because, you know, as a mom, I can multi-task. :)

Happy Mother's Day to all moms--but especially to those of us spending it with kids in the hospital.