In Ethiopia on Mother's Day

Even though we leave for Ethiopia tomorrow, Chad sent me flowers this week.  It is a beautiful pink bouquet.  The smell is heavenly.  Breathing deep of their fragrance as I frantically worked through my to do list this week was soothing. 

While I always adore receiving flowers, I thought often that this Mother's Day bouquet is significant.  You see, once upon a time, Mother's Day was a day I dreaded!  At the time, I was a full time stay at home mom (with a naptime office job for Creative Construction) to four little lovies.  I loved, loved, loved my job as mom.  I always have.  I have never been one to complain about my kids or be "so stressed out because of them."  BUT - I longed to be recognized for all I did.  I wanted Chad and the kids to tell me that I was totally amazing.  I wanted to hear that they appreciated that I did all the laundry, prepared all the meals, kept the house and yard tidy, took out the trash, read books, created projects, drove to activities, set-up play dates, paid the bills, did the shopping, etc...  I wanted ONE day a year when I was the princess because I did my job so wonderfully.

Somehow, my expectation was never met.  It was not that Chad did not find me a gift or make me a meal or buy me a card.  He always did.  I just had this impossible hope for the day, and it never quite worked out as dreamy as I had imagined.

Until Mother's Day 2010.

Mother's Day 2010 came just weeks before we left to bring Joshua home.  At that point I was a wreck.  My entire heart was in an orphanage in Ethiopia.  OK that is overly dramatic - half my heart.

Knowing that MY son was in an orphanage when he could be with his family nearly drove me insane.

And then IT happened.

Sitting in a dark sanctuary, during a special Mother's Day service, I lost it.  I completely, totally lost it.  I cried and sobbed all through the service. A sniffle is something I have experienced often - but these from-the-gut tears were new to me.  They caught me off guard, yet they were totally real.

You see during that worship service, I mourned, in a very real way, the death of Joshua's Ethiopian mother.  Until you share a child with another mother, you can not understand the deep love you can feel for her.  I love Joshua's Ethiopian mother with a fierce protectiveness that truly catches me off guard sometimes.

I know for a fact that she fought for her son from the very beginning.  His teeth tell us that even before he was born his mother was either sick or malnourished, or (more likely) both.  Her body fought for him.  Her body won. 

I get that fight.  I am a biological mom and an adoptive mom.  I know how it feels to be responsible for a child growing deep inside of you.  I know the worry that something will go wrong.  I know the joy of each kick and hiccup.  I know that every part of your body, mind, and spirit labors hard.  I know the deep joy and unexplainable love one experiences as they wait to meet their child.

I am also sure that baby Gebeyehu was well loved.  The way he responds to touch speaks of this.  The way he reaches for the skin of my collar bone tells me his Ethiopian mom took joy in holding him close to her heart.  The way he still loves to bury his head into the nape of my neck leads me to believe that he loved nursing and all the skin to skin snuggles that go with it.

I do not know what exactly caused this beautiful mommy's death.  But it grieves me tremendously.  The thought of her dying, wondering what would happen with her son, makes my heart break into a million pieces.   The thought of our (hers and my) baby son longing for the touch and comfort of his mommy wrecks me.

The fact that in His time, God chose me to follow in her foot steps makes me weep.

Mother's Day has never been the same again.

I now realize in the deepest parts of my soul that being able to be a mother is a gift.  I do not need flowers or gifts or words of affirmation.  (I like them, but I do not need them.  There is a difference.)  To have the gift of one more day being surrounded by the children God has entrusted to me is ENOUGH.

I often wonder if people in heaven can see Earth and know how loved ones are doing.  I so long for Joshua Gebeyehu's Ethiopian momma to know how he is doing.  How tall and handsome he is.  That he went to bed wiggling his third loose tooth.  That he has learned to write his name, but still prefers playing in the dirt to going to school.  That his favorite color is blue.  That he is learning to love Jesus.  That he is adored by his siblings.  That he loves his new momma - but that there is a corner of his heart that is forever hers.  That I tell him all the time how much I love his Ethiopian mommy.  It is ahrd for a little guy to know what to think when one mommy "disappears" (as it would seem to a baby brain.)  He sometimes feels he can not love us both, and I challenge him that he can! If I can love all 5 of my kids, he can love both of his moms!  That thought gave him great relief.

And sweet Bekelech, we keep this beautiful statue in a special place at all times.

The first Christmas JG was home, he saw it in the store and asked to touch it.  As he gazed deep at this angel holding a baby, he sighed "A-moma" (Ethiopian for momma) and kissed her cheek.  That scene will forever play in my mind.  Hobby Lobby became hallowed ground as our son remembered you.  Though he does not have concrete memories of you, his heart knows.

My heart knows.  My heart knows that you loved our son well.  You fought as hard as you could for him.  My heart loves and honors you daily.  And I can hardly wait to find you in heaven someday and tell you all about our boy.  You can tell me about what it was like to carry him in your womb, his labor and delivery story, how and why you chose his name. . .  I will tell you how he grew into a man.

Each moment of motherhood is a gift for which I am deeply grateful.

This Mother's Day, I will not be with all of my children.  I will be experiencing worship in Ethiopia for the first time.  God brings so many things full circle.  Pray for me this Mother's Day as I worship the Savior in the place of my small son's birth.  May my heart be broken a new in all the ways that He chooses.