Happy Mother’s Day to every woman who has touched the life of a child! Whether you’re a mother through adoption, foster care, or birth, or whether you’re a special aunt or a good friend to a child, this is your day! And for those who are still waiting for a child, we all stand behind you. I know this day can be difficult to get through.
For years I wondered when it would be my turn to celebrate Mother’s Day—for me—not because I’m selfish and want the attention and praise (those who know me well know that this is clearly not the case). I only wanted it so badly because it would mean that Stephen and I had our longed-for child. And now we do. And what a difference that has made. While I certainly celebrated the women in my life each year on this day, the day was overshadowed by the little girl who was missing from our lives. This time last year, we had no clue that in a couple of weeks we would receive the only news we had been waiting for.
I would be remiss if I didn’t pay tribute to the women in Natalie’s life before she came to be in our family. There are times when I look down on Natalie’s face and almost feel as though I am looking into her birthmother’s eyes. Our little girl will look at us sometimes as if she seems to know more than she can express. It’s my hope that her birthmother’s heart is at peace and somehow knows that Natalie is safe and loved and will be given every opportunity. Natalie wouldn’t be here with us without her, and I will always remember her sacrifice.
It’s become clear to us that Natalie flourished under the loving care of her foster mother, Julia (and her husband, Marvin). Comforted (relieved?) cannot begin to describe how we felt when we learned that Natalie had been nurtured and loved by this couple. We’re so grateful for all that they gave, on so many levels, to her.
So here we are on the day that celebrates motherhood. I’m glad to be a part of it, and I’m even happier that I get to spend all my days with, as Natalie would say, my “awesome” daughter. I was awoken one morning recently by being tickled, accompanied by “Tickle, tickle. Wake up, Mama.” I turned to see her grinning face and thought that it doesn’t get much sweeter than that.
