The Chronicles of Munchkin Land

I have to share this, but quickly as my Husband starts a 36 hour shift today and we have a bagillion things to get done before he leaves me alone with these two spirited children. (Yes, even the five month old seems to have inherited a bit of my, uhm, stubborn personality.) And so…

Last night I made it to Bible Study. I haven’t been in a few weeks due to scheduling problems and the aforementioned spirited children. The study itself was nice and I happened to learn a few new things. That’s always a great feeling. As we got to the prayer requests at the end, I mentioned a few things. Friends of ours are at Children’s Hospital with their youngest daughter this morning for a brain wave scan as she has had some unexplained seizures and is not hitting milestones.

And then I just went ahead and said it. I asked for prayer for all of the mothers in our church (and everywhere) that find Mother’s Day to be excruciatingly hard. I mentioned that more than one mother, myself included, found the day to be difficult at best. The group as a whole doesn’t know of the relinquishment (though the Pastor does and some random folks in attendance last night did as well) but they do know of my miscarriage. Furthermore, there has been a lot of loss in our congregation including a friend of mine who lost her daughter to suicide.

Pastor D looks at me and says, paraphrased, “You know, there are two Sundays, Mother’s Day being one of them, that are just the absolute hardest for me to “do” as a Pastor. I’ll be explaining why on Sunday, but you’re right, Munchkin’sFirstMom. Thank you.”

I dread every Mother’s Day in church. Last year one of my favorite elderly ladies gave a big long speech about how great her adoptive mother was and how we should all love adoptive mothers. And she’s right. They’re awesome. (You know, for the most part!) But I somehow found the nerve to stand up and acknowledge birth mothers as well. (Then we were told in the immediate aftermath that our then-Pastor was being moved to a new church. It was also my Husband’s birthday. What a crappy day.) I’d really like to avoid such a thing this year.

The truth is that our Pastor has lived a real life and has experienced real things, including loss. He has acknowledged the grief and loss that I experience as a birth mother and continues to be an encouragement in my healing. I feel blessed that he was moved to our church at this stage in my healing process.

Here’s hoping Sunday isn’t a big Ick Fest!