My Motherhood Was Built

My motherhood was built through a pile of paperwork. 

My motherhood hung in the balance of home visits and government approvals.

My motherhood was strung together through flights across the world. 

My motherhood was first celebrated in the middle of an airport. 

My motherhood was determined by the bang of a gavel. 

The first time we met was unexpected at best, but one look at you and I knew I was wrecked. Our first moments together weren't filled with sweet surrender, but I knew it was a time I would always remember. 

She gave you your beautiful black hair you love to style, eyes that light up when you smile. You heard her voice while you grew in her womb, sweet sounds of a language that filled the room. She felt your first kicks and heard your first cry, and oh how I prayed she would cherish that time. 

"Is he yours?" A stranger asks. "Yes!" A simple word that holds so much. "Yes he is mine." 

Our love was built. Through choices and time, loss and gain, beauty and pain all woven together through one main thing: Hope. Being your mom is my favorite. 

Motherhood is built in so many ways. Wherever you are today, your story is not done yet. Whether you are missing your mom, your table should be full and yet there is an empty chair, you are a mom for a season through foster care, bonus mom built through marriage, mom who labored and gave birth to all her babies, single mom fulfilling every role, mom in the wings-waiting for a miracle or paperwork to pass, empty nest mom missing those crazy days but enjoying this new season, grandma, auntie, teacher, mentor, advocate, friend...your story is not done yet.

This was originally written in honor of Mother’s Day 2020, when I only had 1 child at the time, but the message remains the same: Your story matters. Your story is valid. And your story is not over yet. You can find the original post here.