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This past week end we celebrated Mother’s day . Mother’s day is one of those holiday’s that are often overdone or not acknowledged well. ( I am totally over the Facebook posts tho …for real )I traditionally don’t celebrate Mother’s Day for myself because I’ve never really felt like a mother . And when I was a single Mom I really never acknowledged Mother’s Day unless responding to my own Mom . But this year I thought about something as I received a Mother’s day card from my husband …I should not have one day to be celebrated I should be ceremoniously celebrated daily. Every time a child says …Mommy I should be given some sort of music playing in the background, there should be flowers thrown at my feet after all I delivered a fully formed human out of my body from a place that only dispenses liquids. I along with all other mother’s am a super hero. There is an invisible S on my chest that stands for Supercalifragilisticespialidocious or something like that .
I knew my mother was sick with my youngest brother while she was pregnant with him .I watched her snatched body morph from tiny to mighty (MOM I couldn’t think of a better word) . I watched as her light skin changed by hormones, I watched as the pregnant hair left her head and the moment she had to begin again . Yet she seemed to love us. She wanted the best for us and after we were adults and had our own kids she loved them too. She’s definitely worthy of music, roses and more , even for generously and selflessly taking in my children as if they were her own . And at times during my pregnancies we walked thru those times together , I was sick , she was sick. I craved, she ate with me…that’s love.
And then I had my own kids. When I had the first two, age got in the way of emotions. I cried a lot because of the new lifestyle that I was about to face and the unwillingness to want my life to drastically change in the ways I knew they were about to change . And then I gave birth to my first daughter. She was late … to me she was the boys before her came three weeks before time and she waited to the absolute last minute to make her entrance in the world . I was one miserable chick. And by the time I made it to the hospital I was exhausted I wanted nothing more than for her to be out of my body and on here own . But it wasn’t just that simple. She came out and the room was completely quiet. I heard absolutely nothing. And then everything went fuzzy, I was blacking out but I knew I had two other humans that were waiting on me and needed me , not to mention that she needed me. Every breath I took after that was for them . Every now and then I heard my mother speak in tongues and say Jesus. I knew she was praying and God was in control. In giving birth to my 3rd child I could have lost my life from giving life. The moment I heard her breathe for the first time was the moment I regained my consciousness.
Experiencing all of that I thought , girl…you gotta love yourself. Because no one can understand your struggle as much as you understand your own struggle . You are the only person that can and will appreciate the moments you have been through storms . So the next time you are laying in bed on Mother’s day expecting breakfast in bed…get up and fix or make it happen . Buy yourself something daily…from me to me . Take yourself out because nobody is going to love you like you love you but maybe your mom and even she has a limit.
LOVING MYSELF
Tesh
