I see you...

In a few short hours, the United States will celebrate Mother's Day.  The concept seems so simple: honor moms.  Nothing is ever simple.  Yes, we honor mothers on this day.  Having been a single woman (hoping for children), a married woman, a mother, and now, a widow, I can tell you with certainty that Mother's Day can also be a day of utterly conflicting emotions, or downright pain.  While this list is by no means exhaustive, my aim is simply this: I see you.  You matter.  Thank you for being...you.

To the person raising a child without his/her mother: It's unfair to say that you're Dad AND Mom.  You aren't.  You will never be.  Yet, every day, you get up and operate as provider, comforter, caregiver, guide, and utterly exhausted champion of the child you have been blessed with.  I see you.

To the grandparent raising your grandchildren: Not only have you raised your own children, but now you are raising your grandchildren.  Regardless of the circumstances, you stepped up.  You are doing the Kindergarten roundup (again), the 5th grade science project (for the 4th time), going to parent/teacher conferences (two times a year!), and cheering them on in sports.  I see you.

To the woman who has always wanted to be a mom: This holiday is like salt in an open wound.  It's a reminder of everything you have always wanted, yet, don't have.  I've been where you are.  I've dreaded this day, cried on this day, smiled through gritted teeth on this day.  I see you.

To the person without a mother: Maybe today is the first year you haven't purchased a card and gift for your mother, or maybe its the 10th year you haven't.  Regardless, the empty feeling remains.  Your mom will always be your mom.  And every year without her doesn't go unnoticed.  I see you.

To the woman struggling with infertility: I can in no way imagine the pain.  Your abdomen might resemble a pin cushion from countless shots.  Maybe you wish it did, but you can't afford to go that route.  Unless you have gone through it (which I haven't), you can't begin to imagine what it feels like (and I can't).  I've heard it compared to the carrot at the end of the stick; you can get close, but it never actually becomes your's.  I see you.

To the woman who has lost a child: Whether you have other children, or not, your baby is never far from your mind.  Trying to answer a banal question, such as, "How many children do you have?" leaves you searching for an answer that will satisfy, be truthful, yet, not awkward.  For many women, the minute that double line shows up is the moment you become a mother.  You are a mother.  I see you.

To the woman who has chosen not to have children: The reasons for not having children are varied and complex.  As a woman, you've likely had to endure at least one person telling you "You'll change your mind," or "It's what women do," or "Meet the right person, and you'll want children."  To this woman I say, you know your own heart and mind, and your life is just as full as any.  I see you.

To the woman raising (or helping raise) someone else's children: Bonus mom, step-mom, or whatever title you may have, you play a huge role in that child's life.  You may not have carried that child in your body, but you carry him/her in your heart.  I see you.

To the woman who has been a surrogate or given a child up for adoption: You sacrificed your body to give another person the opportunity to be a mother.  Maybe you knew them, maybe you didn't.  Regardless, you did something amazing: grow and carry a child, go through labor and delivery, and all the loveliness that happens after giving birth, for someone else.  I see you.

To the woman with car seats, diapers, teenagers, and a loud house: You have labored over every child in your home.  I don't necessarily mean physical labor, either.  You have stayed up nights wiping up all kinds of fluids, you have sacrificed your body, sleep, time, and energy.  You may not even have a name anymore; I don't.  I'm _____'s mom.  I see you.

To the woman who doesn't love motherhood: "Give it time," they say.  "It will come."  "Motherhood is natural."  "Who doesn't love motherhood?"  You don't.  Your reasons are your own; and no one can argue with them.  Perhaps you suffer in silence, knowing what the typical response will be.  I hope you don't.  Nevertheless, I see you.

To the woman who is a rock-star aunt (real or surrogate): You show up to the soccer games.  You never miss a birthday, or special event.  You create all kinds of mischief, and buy obnoxious toys.  You love the special children in your life deeply, and you are such an important part of their lives.  I see you.

To the woman estranged from her child(ren): The reasons aren't important.  Estrangement is painful.  This day will go by without a card or phone call, and that hurts.  Mother's Day is a reminder that you are a mother who is not connected to her child(ren).  I see you.

To the woman who has fur babies: You feed them, you bathe them, you clean up their toys.  You take them to the doctor when they're sick, you clean up after their fluids.  Your heart is full and no one can dispute that you'd do whatever you can for your baby.  Sounds like a mother to me!  I see you.

To the woman who is doing it all alone: Maybe you're like me, a widow.  Maybe you've always been solo.  Maybe you're navigating a new reality of solo parenting.  The pictures you'll see on social media of the large bouquets of flowers, the excited posts about being able to sleep in and get breakfast in bed, and the "me" time willingly provided on Mother's Day; these things will probably not happen for you.  I can guarantee you I won't be sleeping in tomorrow.  And I will admit to dreading this holiday, not for the lack of gratitude and gifts, but for yet another reminder that Andrew is gone.  I see you.

I see you, I appreciate you, and I'm so thankful for you.  "Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears that Lord is to be praised.  Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate." - Proverbs 31:30-31 (NIV)