When You Feel Forgotten On Mother's Day

It was one of our hottest summers here in South Carolina. The sun was shining. There wasn’t a cloud in sight and the sky was so blue I wanted to bottle it up and save some for later. But I was sitting at the red light in our little town, crying so hard I could barely see the light turn green. The air conditioner in my car was screaming at me just as loudly as the pain in my heart. I remember in the middle of infertility treatments calling my sister sobbing over another pregnancy announcement.

The announcements of close friends are the hardest.

You feel so many emotions. Truly, from the bottom of your heart, you are thrilled for your friend and her story, but broken for you and yours. My sister was always there on the other end of the line, speaking His truth into my heart when I was too hurt to see.

Most of her conversations with me were the same. “God is good. He hears you. He is faithful. Remember when He came through for you? He’ll do it again. It’s Who He is. He’s writing a story, but you are just in the middle. His plans are higher than ours. He is enough for you. He is near.” I would literally call her and ask her to preach truth to me. She’s one of those who can do it in the kindest way.

Because when you are aching to be a mother, and you feel like God isn’t hearing, you need a village around you, to point your weary eyes towards Him.

Mother’s Day is only a few days away. And I can’t help but think of you, Waiting Mama. Even though I am a mother now, I dread Mother’s Day for you because I remember the pain laced in that day. I remember wanting to stay home all day, in my bed, with the covers over my head. But I couldn’t. There were moms to celebrate.

And then there was that time I walked in the doors to church, and the sweet greeter gave me a rose. I guess I looked like a mother. A kind gesture to honor mothers drove those thorns deeper into an already open wound. I immediately passed it to my husband. And it confirmed for me what I was feeling.



I felt forgotten by everyone. I walked around on Mother’s Day feeling as if I was not seen. I didn’t “just decide” to have children, it was a calling. And the worst part was the God who had called me to be a mama, wasn’t giving me children to mother. I felt forgotten by even Him.

But I wasn’t.

I learned in that season of hiding from Mother’s Day, I could be found in Him.

He saw me. He was there. He was Emanuel, God with me, in that summer and the one that followed. He may have seemed quiet, but He became the only place I felt safe. And my sister was right, He WAS writing a story. It was just in the middle, and I couldn’t see the end…yet.


“I’m praying for you as you budget your emotions,” my sister said. I knew of a budget with money, but budgeting emotions was an idea new to me. When we spend money, we allow more money in our budget for certain things. It’s the same with our emotions. When I’m expecting Mother’s Day to be hard, I can allow myself more grace in the days before.

When you have allowed a large emotional budget for this week, you can also be on high alert for the enemy’s lies. Now is the time, more than ever, to preach Truth to yourself. Find a village who will point your weary eyes towards Him.

Just say it over and over until your heart believes, “He is good. He is near. He is faithful. He sees me. I am His. He’s writing a story, I’m just in the middle.”

Friend, wake up on Mother’s Day morning knowing you are going to rock it! You have everything you need. Your belly might still be empty, but your heart isn’t.

You have Him.

And you are not forgotten.

“Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are continually before me.” Isaiah 49:15-16 ESV

Photos by Rachel Ackerman Photography

To The Waiting Mother, on Mother's Day..

Although I am now a mother, and will celebrate my fourth Mother's Day, my heart still breaks on this day. My heart still grieves all the years of pain this day caused. It makes me want to come find you, Waiting Mother, wrap my arms around your neck, grab some Ben and Jerry's, and eat until we see the bottom of the container. If I could, I'd tell you it gets better.

God is so faithful and He answers prayers in the most beautiful ways. Ways we would never imagine, but always better than our greatest dreams. Although I know this to be true, on this day for you, it feels so far away. And every commercial, every present, every lunch, every barren second of this day, holds the reminder that you are not a mother...yet.

If I could, I would hug you, and remind you that "yet" is the word to breathe in, breathe out, and repeat today. I pray from the depths of my heart that these words meet you in your need, and more than anything, I pray that you will find Him here, right in the midst of your waiting.

To The Waiting Mother,

You, precious one, are not alone.

God sees your broken and weary heart. He is here, right now, holding all things together. Quiet your heart, just for a second. He is holding your very existence together, spinning your world, telling the sun when to set and fall, and holding each star in it's place. And in His grace, knows what you ate for breakfast, your favorite song, how you like your coffee, and the very depths of your aching heart.

Most people would tell you, Waiting Mother, to sleep. Because you will literally never sleep on your schedule again. Seriously. You will walk around like a zombie for the first two months (if you have a good baby). You'll wash your hair two or three times in the shower because your so tired you won't remember if you did it. And they say, "sleep when the baby sleeps." Yeah, right. Only if you don't want to get a shower that day. Eventually, sleeping in on Saturday, will mean your body (or a little squeal) waking you up at 6:30.

But you won't care. You'll run to that nursery. You've dreamed of this. What it would be like. How it will feel to be someone's mommy. You've imagined those tiny hands holding onto your finger as you softly sing Jesus' name. You'll eventually learn how to function on very little sleep and those baby love snuggles will be even better than caffeine.

Some people would tell you to go on dates with your husband. And I know you say, "That won't be us. We'll have a date night once a week." Well maybe so, if you get to stay at home during the day and you don't feel guilty leaving your baby with another baby sitter. Or if your willing to pay 10 dollars an hour, plus your actual date, every week.

But you won't care. It'll be hard. You will make it work. And when you do get those sacred moments where you just get to be a wife to your husband, you will cherish them more than ever before. And ultimately, he is your first ministry, so you will find a way to make him your priority. It might come with lots of trial and error. More losses than wins, but you'll make it work. After all, your marriage is the Gospel on display. Your little one, and the world for that matter, is watching.

Other people will tell you to get your nails done, shave your legs, do the laundry, organize, and clean. Really clean. Because you won't have time to even cut your nails, so you'll just bite them. Your legs won't see a razor until your husband starts to complain. The laundry....there just aren't words. It will NEVER, I mean NEVER be done. Just accept it. And your house won't ever be clean again. Really clean. You'll find puffs in your couch, paci's in random drawers, and green pea splatter on the walls.

But you won't care. You'll learn that all those things can wait. Your life, will indeed, go on even with a messy house. You will never have this day with your baby again. You won't want to miss one gummy smile, slobbery kiss, or squishy hug.

But you do care. You're not there...yet. Telling you to enjoy your sleep, go on dates, clean, and shave your legs is just ridiculous, and honestly insensitive. Your heart aches.

So while you wait...grow.

All those nights when you are crying out to the Father, begging Him to answer your prayer for a child, you are learning how to need Him. Because you will.

Lean into that.

Every time your friends tell you they are pregnant, deep in your heart you wonder why it can't be you. And you run to your Dad, to feel His big, safe arms wrap around you. This is how you will comfort.

When you feel like you are the only one in the whole world who isn't a mommy, you remember the story of a woman named Hannah and the big prayers she prayed for her Samuel.

And you'll pray those same prayers for your promised one.

It hurts.

It's so uncomfortable. The pain is just too much some days.

But don't fight it. Open up your hands and ask Papa to teach you how to wait. Ask Him to help you grow. Savor your desperation for Him. And then watch. Watch Him make your angry, winter heart a beautiful, spring meadow.

 And while your eyes are on Him, you won't even notice how He surprises you with your dream.

"Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her. And there I will give her her vineyards and make the Valley of Achor a door of hope.."

Hosea 2:14-15a

*Photo by the amazing

Rachel Ackerman Photography