Mother's Day
by Melody Cherian
After coming off the high of Mother’s day (I have 38 kids), I started to think about the day we celebrate mothers.
I am an adoptive mother. To the older children, I am their Tia, to my medium children (who vaguely remember their biological mothers) I am their Tia Mami and to my little ones (16 of them), I am Mami. I am all they know, I am their mother.
In a country like Honduras adoption is not a common thing, in the Indian culture, adoption is not a common thing. People cannot fathom how you can love a child that is not biologically yours and how you can treat them like your own. Some people do not value the parenthood of adoptive parents because the child is not ‘yours’.
Often when I am out with the children, people ask if the child is mine (Honduran people are forward). This is usually how the conversation goes;
stranger: suya (yours)?
me: si
stranger: suya suya (yours, yours)?
me: si
stranger: suya suya, como suya… (yours yours, like yours…)?
me: siiiiii…
Then after a weird look they’ll ask if the child came from my stomach. These days I just say yes, because what my child hears is more important then what a stranger thinks. There will be a time when I tell them the ‘truth’, however telling a stranger they are not mine is not something I think they need to hear at 3 years old.
Not once during Mother’s day did I think that these children are not mine, or that I did not give birth to them. I did however feel blessed to have the love of so many little people and their gratitude. My mother raised me to be a confident woman and in this I couldn’t care less if they came from my body or not or if people value my motherhood or not. I know who I am and I know how deep my love for my children runs. God has given me an abundance of beautiful children and the task of raising them to know him.
I recently read a blog about a woman who wrote a letter to a Pastor explaining how many women feel uncomfortable in church on Mother’s Day. Not because they were honoring Mothers but because we as a society fail to recognize there are all different types of mothers and for some people, Mother’s Day, is a day of pain. We give these women no worth or value on this day. We do not recognize those who lost babies or children, or those who cannot have babies, those who have difficult children or absent children, we do not give worth to the foster mom or the mom who has had her children taken from her. We do not see the pain of the mom who is barely providing for her children and her sense of guilt and shame. I feel for these women, maybe because it is these mothers who gave birth to my children.
As I was putting my babies to sleep, I started to think about their biological mothers and my heart started to grieve for them. How sad they must feel that on Mother’s day their children are not with them, or their children are being raised by strangers because they couldn’t, or their children will never recognize them as their mother. In that moment I thanked God for the biological mothers of my kids. I prayed peace on their hearts and I prayed that they would know that they are valued and appreciated. I am in no position to judge them, to make comments on why they do not have their children, that’s not my place at all. Being a mother is stressful, it’s hard, it takes a lot of energy, it’s emotional. We’ve all had those close to the edge moments, the moments when we’re hanging on by a thread. It is by grace and mercy that we survive and persevere, some of us are doing a little better than others, not by our own merit but by grace.
I’m not decreasing the importance of Mother’s day or how we should appreciate those who gave us life. I appreciate and Iove my mom. She is a good mom, she gave me everything I ever needed to live my life and most importantly, taught me how to give life to others. It is because of the way she raised me, I am able to give myself to 38 children without reserve. I think it’s equally important to recognize on Mother’s day, all the mothers, especially the ones who are hurting. Let’s not gloat in our successes or our children or our gifts but humbly remember it could easily be us in that place of despair and someone to hold our hand and tell us that we are valued would make this day a little more bearable.
- Melody
