Mother's Day For A Birthmom

Today, is Mother’s Day. It is the hardest day of the year for me because, eleven years ago, I made the toughest choice about what to do with my unplanned pregnancy. I gave my unborn daughter a fighting chance.  I placed her for adoption into the arms of a family that could give her the kind of love I knew I was not ready to give.

My father just called to wish me a Happy Mother’s Day. Because he recognizes that although I do not ‘mother’ my daughter every day, I do have to live with that choice. I lie every time a stranger asks if I have kids, yet. It’s too complicated to explain for small talk. I lie with an obedient, agreeing smile when my coworkers say “You’ll want them some day.” I’ve lied on first dates, hiding this amazing truth, that I’ve brought life into this world, even if it wasn’t on purpose.

Today, is Mother’s Day. I haven’t talked to my own mother since September. We stopped conversation because I disagreed with her on Facebook. My mother is a narcissist. And today is the hardest day of the year, because I will never get the validation from her that, I too, am a mother. I may not have sacrificed my one and only afternoon this week on the couch to watch my favorite movie so that I can take my daughter to soccer practice.  I may not have spent my last dollars for her school supplies while I desperately need a new pair of shoes. I may not have had the heart ache of holding my daughter while she cries because of bullies at school. But that doesn’t mean I don’t count today.

I DO count today. I sit back on Facebook, looking for and loving EVERY picture her family posts online. I visit as much as I can and go take tours of her school. I write letters. I write blogs helping other women, or mainly just myself, get through the pain of being a mom-on-the-side. I may not be a conventional mom, but that doesn’t mean I don’t belong in this group.

I made a choice I don’t think my own mother could have made. Selflessness is not something that comes easy to her. We may not be speaking, and that is okay. I sent flowers and a little note, because to me, she gave me life. She taught me right from wrong. She hammered in the importance of working hard for what you want, and how to be independent. And for a lot of who I am, I thank her for.  It is only now, in my 30’s that I recognize she taught me those things so early on, because she did not want me to need her for much of anything.

But, we are all human, and we all need validation. I must remember that she is a narcissist and will never give that to me. As I heal, I will learn that that is okay because she is who she is and after all, she gave me the privilege of this life.

Thank you mom for the sacrifices you made. I know it must have been difficult. But I turned out okay, and made the right choice, for me, when it came time to stare motherhood in the face.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the women with children in their lives.

Hey Body! Thanks For Doing So Much Cool Shit!

January; the weird time of year where we become hyper-focused on our own bodies. Resolutions are made to eat healthier, lose weight or gain weight, perform skin masks more regularly...things that in general, make your body appear better to the outside world.

Have you ever stopped to think about the things your body has done for you? The mini miracles it performs on a day-to-day basis? You drank too much last night, yet still, your body gets you up to relieve the toxins from your system. You worked hard today, and tonight, your body will reward you with rest so you can wake up and do it again tomorrow. Your body carried you from Point A to Point B countless times this week. Your body was able to lift weights, hold babies, pet puppies, hug grandparents, and call friends. You were able to wash your hair, go up stairs, hurry to catch the elevator, stand in line (FOREVER) to check out at the grocery store, and even maybe make a grilled cheese sandwich. Bodies are pretty awesome!

Yet, when we recite a laundry list of things our bodies are capable of, we continue to punish them because we have love handles...no carbs for a month! Or perhaps our skin is sagging more than we realized...so we slap on a weird carbon mask that kind of hurts but is supposed to keep us youthful. Or heaven forbid our bodies don’t fit into our favorite pants anymore. It’s an hour run followed by a restricted calorie intake until we crash.

This. Sounds. Like. Torture.

I was retelling the story of my post-pregnancy body recently to my boyfriend. For months in and out of the doctor’s office, I was “gaining too much weight.” I needed to “stop drinking juices” and “exercise more!” For months, I was being told I was too fat by my doctor. My daughter was born over 10 pounds, no diabetes or risk there of, and I immediately lost 25 of the 60 pounds I gained during pregnancy.

I was worried this weight loss was going to take a really long time, so I immediately bought a few pairs of Spanx to help me get my shape back, and two days after I came home from the hospital, I let my mother take me on a walk to through the grocery store. As eager as I was to get my body back to NORMAL, I couldn’t even make it from the car to the front door without collapsing in tears. I was in so much pain. For the next six weeks, I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t stand long to take a shower. I couldn’t stand to make myself a damn peanut butter and jelly, let alone go for miles long jogs like I enjoyed. For six weeks, I had to be still and let all the miraculous cells repair, and rebuild.

It was the longest six weeks of my life.

But, I’ll never forget the run I went on when I was finally cleared by the doctor. I ran exactly one mile. That’s about all I could take. And I’ve never been prouder of this body in my whole life. I gave life, and could still move about and thrive in my life. In the 12 minutes and 22 seconds it took to run the mile lap, I thought about all the people who can’t move because of permanent injuries. I thought about people who are brain dead and cannot make their own grilled cheese. I thought about women who were bed ridden in their post pregnancy bodies WISHING they could get a jump start on retrieving their pre-pregnancy bodies. And I thought about how grateful I was to have these legs and these muscles and lungs and brain to help me move about and experience the sunshine that day. The fresh cut grass. The hilarity of people honking on the road to temporarily relieve their road rage. It was amazing!

Now, every time I look in the mirror and start to wish that my body looked like someone else. I remember that run. I think about those painful six weeks everytime I come across a flight of stairs. I CAN take the stairs...so I will.

I don’t want to take this body for granted. It’s the only one I get!

Eat well. Fuel your soul. Take the stairs. And remember, your body...is pretty fucking amazing.

John Mayer "Your Body Is A Wonderland"

Your body IS a wonderland. Enjoy it. Treat it well and stop punishing it for doing what you asked it to do! Run that marathon, take a walk with your mom, carry ALL the groceries in one trip because you can! Or, you know what?? Rest your body on the couch today. Do what feels good. Your body (and you!) deserves it!