I was sitting in church listening to the Mother’s Day service that Sunday in 2006. I say ‘listening’ because I didn’t feel like part of the service. All of the festivities were swirling around me, making no sense.

The tiny life of our first baby was within me, now and again fluttering to make its presence known, because even at 7 months I was barely showing.  How very vulnerable this baby’s life had been…still was. No guarantees that we would see a birth day.

Fast forward to  Mother’s Day of 2007.  Once again I found myself listening to the service while it swirled around me. This time I was at the piano, while our 10 month old baby boy sat with friends.

Still the ‘feelings’ of motherhood eluded me. It had been a year of post partum recovery that was so hard it blew my mind. My health was forever changed. The demands of motherhood didn’t stop while I got my strength back and wrapped my brain around everything that had happened.

Where were those warm, fuzzy feelings that I was “supposed” to have?

Was I the only mother who, because of trauma, struggled to bond with my newborn? Was I the only mother surprised when she took her baby from someone’s arms and said, “Your arms must be tired” and the person said incredulously, “Of course not!” Was I the only mother whose heart broke when she realized she was the only one who was too weak to hold her own baby for more than a few minutes?

On that day and every Mother’s Day since, my own mother has been 2,000 miles away.

And I realized that even moms struggle on Mother’s Day.

We speak of singleness and infertility as causing pain on Mother’s Day {and well we should!} Those of us who are mamas are blessed beyond measure. But we also know deep heartache, don’t we? I’m thinking of moms out there who struggle with this very stereotyped holiday.  Moms everywhere deal with devastated dreams that haunt them on Mother’s Day:

Did any of us ask to lay down our lives to bear children?  Did we pray that we would have a special needs child? Did we long for a failed adoption…or to lose a beloved foster child, or to have a miscarriage? Did we, as little girls, dream of a traumatic pregnancy, birth, and recovery? Did we realize that we would never get the guilt and pain of that abortion out of our minds until our dying breath?

Did we see separation or divorce on the pathway and rejoice over the effects on our children? Did we hope that our babes would grow up and stray from God? Did we anticipate being a single parent and picking up the pieces of a broken family? Did we realize how much our own childhood abuse would daily affect our parenting struggles?

Did we foresee having a high maintenance child who tests our love to the very core? Did we expect to nurse a physical or mental handicap for as long as our child would live? Did we ever think that we would bury our own child? Did we know how hard it would be to lose our very own mom?

Dear sweet ladies! The curse has hard effects on us as women, doesn’t it?  I don’t know how else to express what I’m feeling except to say that my heart is heavy for women everywhere who are hurting. As a pastor’s wife, I see the situations. I do the counseling. I hear the stories. My heart breaks with each one.

Why then do we judge and compare ourselves with each other? We ALL have the same types of struggles, even though they are manifested in different ways according to God’s will for our lives!

“Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion upon the son of her womb? Yeah, they may forget; yet will I not forget you.” Isaiah 49:15

God understands the heartbreaks of mothers. He even used our strength as an example in the verse above! Mothers- strong, loving to the point of impossibility.  Yet we fail.  Which is why we need the “I will not forget you” part. Bask in that security and hope today and always.

This Sunday on Mother’s Day, and every Sunday after that, minister intentionally to other women. Celebrate with them the blessings of being women of God! Write notes to them, hug them, cry with them, laugh with them, encourage them. You know the God Who heals, so let Him use you to be a balm in someone’s soul.

The precious part? While you’re reaching out, God will be healing the wounds in your own heart.

You will be amazed.