My daughter Kayla was born in March last year, making 2021 the first time I got to celebrate Mother’s Day as a Mom. The day itself was lovely - my husband arranged a day of pampering (massage, mani, pedi) and dinner, and my daughter gave me the gift of being adorable in every photo we took. I remember fast forwarding, mentally, and thinking about what the day would look like when she was older. Would she bring me handcrafted artwork, make me candy necklaces, or arrange “secret” celebrations with her Dad? The thought made me smile.
As Mother’s Day approaches this year, Kayla is a completely different person. She can actually say Mama (though it’s unclear if she’s referring to me when she says it…it seems to be a word she just enjoys saying), she loves to walk (with assistance - we’re working on it!), and she’s now spending the bulk of her weekdays at daycare. Seeing how much can change in one short year is thrilling and humbling all at once. I want to hold onto every single moment and keep her safe from the craziness this world can quickly become, but I also know my job as her mom is to prepare her for the world, not shield her from it.
The other thing I know, and have come to witness up close, is that Mother’s Day isn’t a joyous day for everyone. There are those who have lost their moms, lost their children, or who have been trying unsuccessfully to have a baby for quite some time. There are those whose relationships with their moms have been severed, or who never knew their mothers at all. The pain of these circumstances isn’t lost on me, and it is my sincere hope that in celebrating this day I haven’t alienated those who can’t or don’t wish to.
My simple hope for those of you who are celebrating this day - whether as Mothers yourself or for those who mothered you, is that it’s filled with all of the joy, laughter and love my Kayla has brought to me.