Mother's Day as an Adoptive Mom

Yesterday was Mother's Day. And for me, it was a stark reality check, as I am not the biological mother to any of our three children, as all three are adopted. Granted, I know that I am not their biological mother. However, I somehow forgot that until Friday. After all, I love them as much as I would love them if they were my biological children (I hope).

As I am no novice at Mother's Day as an adoptive mom, I do dread the school Mother's Day art project. I try to prepare myself for not getting the token art project, as in years past, these are sometimes addressed to bio. mom and sometimes to me. (The oldest child has been with us since she was 2 days old, but is no longer doing these token art projects, a lost art in high school). This year was no exception. Out of the two children who did art projects, one was addressed to bio. mom and one was addressed to me. Woohoo! I got lucky this year! That was until the child who did hers to bio. mom realized that we didn't have a way to get it to bio. mom, so she gave it to me after all, telling me to ignore the first page. After I read the first page, I realized that this heartfelt note really did belong to bio. mom and I kindly gave the art project back to her and suggested that she put it in her keepsake box with hopes that someday she would be able to give it her bio. mom. My heart was broken after reading the note to bio. mom, as my child misses her, even though it has been many years since she's seen her. That is a void that not even I can fill, no matter how much I want to. I took a "mommy time-out" and headed outside to cry my eyes out.

As the weekend progressed, we celebrated as a family by going out to dinner on Saturday night and then going to the Matt Maher and Shane & Shane Concert. We had planned to eat at a nice restaurant and then attend the concert. We forgot that we live with a teenager who struggles with the concept of time. So, fast food it was. The concert was awesome and the girls loved being able to meet Matt Maher afterwards. He was really sweet to them.

Sunday was a nice morning at church, followed by lunch at Cracker Barrel with Nana and Papa. We then stopped at the Mesa Cemetary to visit Mark's mom's gravesite. Our youngest daughter had a hard time understanding why were there, but that wasn't important. We were there as a family, support Mark.

We then headed to Nana and Papa's for dessert and to exchange gifts. I got individual cards from each of the two younger children and a beautiful card from Mark, along with a set of dessert plates that I had picked out (I've learned from 19 years of marriage to get the catalog or website and mark what I want - it saves on the amount of time spent in return lines at the store). My dad made me a leather bible cover and my mom gave me my Grandmother's thimble to add to my keepsakes of sewing tools that I have shadow boxed in my living room. The comment that I overhead my oldest say, "I hope mom didn't notice". Well, mom did notice that there wasn't even a signature on any of the cards from her , not even in someone else's handwriting.

As I have spent the last twenty-four hours trying to process through all my emotions of this weekend, trying to figure out how and where I fit into Mother's Day, I realized something. It isn't about me, it isn't about them. My job is train them up in His way's, not mine. Nowhere is it written in the Bible that moms get a special day of recognition. At the end of the day, I just need to look back and see if I've accomplished my task.

This life lesson that God is teaching me is very painful, but I am so thankful that He finds me worthy of the trouble.