I See You, Mother
I see you—the one flattened by the words “I can’t find a heartbeat.”
I see you—the one trying and waiting and wondering how much longer you can hold on to hope.
I see you—the one wondering if you have the right to grieve.
I see you—the one carrying a long ago grief that still sneaks its way up to the surface when you’re least expecting.
I see you—the one conflicted by your gratitude for the children in your home and the longing for the one who never made it there.
I see you—the one who feels invisible, wondering if she counts as a mother.
I see you—the one embarrassed that your arms sometimes feel too full, and the one with your arms too empty.
I see you—the one keeping watch by night as your child gets weaker and succumbs to your greatest fear.
I see you—the one grieving in isolation who’d do most anything for a friend’s hand on the small of your back.
I see you—the one whose grief feels too much, and the one whose grief feels not enough.
I see you—the one who labored with joy only to birth with sorrow.
I also see you—the one shocked into new motherhood, wondering if you’re doing it right.
And I see you—the one devastated by a failed or delayed adoption, berating yourself for letting your heart go too far to reel back in.
I see you—the one who lost your child due to a situation or a choice you wish you’d never made or one that was made for you.
I see you—the one losing sleep over a child who’s lost their way.
I see you— the one mothering under a grievous diagnosis, afraid you might have to leave way too soon.
I see you—the one who hides in the bathroom to get a few minutes of respite from parenting on your own.
I see you—the one who’s lost her own mom, the one who’s mother doesn’t recognize her anymore, and the one who’s been estranged.
I see you. I will not wish you a Happy Mother’s Day, but I will wish you well in your soul.
May the God of all peace grant you the grace to know how beloved you are today.
You are seen. You are loved. You matter.
I see you, Mother.
© Adriel McIntosh Booker 2020
“How often I’ve ached to embrace your children, the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings.” (Matthew 23:37b, The Message)
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