I wanted to say Happy Mother’s Day to all the wonderful women in my life.
From my own mother to my step-mother, my mother-in-laws, sister and sisters-in-laws, and grandmas, aunts and friends.
Yes, it is after 10pm, but better late than never.

One year ago was honestly one of the best Mothers days I have ever had.  
There was no fancy breakfast in bed, no flowers, not even a hint of chocolate covered strawberries waiting.

It was because Alyssa had just been released from her 2 week stay at Primary Children's Hospital and she was doing well. 
We celebrated her homecoming, Abigail's 8th birthday and Mother’s Day all on the same day. 
It was so wonderful to be home and all together again. 
We had just come through a rough storm and were finally starting to breathe a sigh of relief. 
I was feeling great and in just over a month would be welcoming another little guy in to the family.  
Who could have imagined another storm was waiting for us. 
One that would forever change me. And my family.

I am so grateful for all my family, friends, neighbors and strangers who helped out but mostly for my mother. 
I don't know what I would have done without her. 
I could never sum up into words everything she has done for me of how grateful I am for her.
The more I look back on my childhood, I am amazing by her.
Her strength, selflessness and the sacrifices she made.
She has shown me true unconditional love.
She has taught me how to be a better person and mother.

Each Mother's Day (as well as most holidays) has a different meaning for me now.
I am grateful for each one.
I am grateful I am here to celebrate them.

Happy Mother's Day!

 

A Mother's Fight

Written by Mary Darling Montero 

(Psychotherapist, writer, mother and cancer survivor)

This Mother's Day falls just before my two-year anniversary of being diagnosed with an aggressive form of early-stage, invasive breast cancer. Anniversaries can trigger traumatic memories, and as mine approaches I catch myself reliving pieces of the day I was diagnosed. Breast cancer would permeate every layer of my identity, shifting the way I felt as a wife, daughter, sister and friend, but that day it was my sense of motherhood that rocked me to my core.

Elizabeth Stone famously said: "Making the decision to have a child -- it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." I can't think of a better way to express how having children multiplies your sense of vulnerability. When I was diagnosed, my first thoughts were about my 1- and 2 year-old children: Will I be able to take care of them during treatment? Will I survive? Will they grow up without me?

That last question took my breath away and woke me up in the middle of the night with a racing heart. It sent me into my closet where I sat on the floor and cried, and into my kids' rooms while they slept, where I curled up beside them and fervently prayed.
It was fear with the power to paralyze me, yet my instinct to fight for my kids was stronger than that fear. For me, "fighting cancer" meant keeping my role in my kids' daily lives as steady as possible. It meant using my last reserves of energy to attend an event at my son's school or play with my daughter at the park.

When I was in treatment, our babysitter sent me a cartoon of a bald woman wearing a headscarf and walking with purpose while clutching the hand of a small child and carrying both a crying baby and a grocery bag. "This reminds me of you!" she said.
Of course, I wasn't that woman all the time. Anybody going through cancer treatment and surgeries feels defeated at times, and even those of us who have a relatively easy time with side effects succumb to sick days spent entirely in bed. But I could relate to the woman in that cartoon. She was busy with endless appointments, tired from chemo, and afraid of the future, but she shook off feeling sorry for herself, pulled herself up, and took care of her kids.

She was a woman who would forever be part of a sisterhood of women who live with a new sense of wonder for the small bodies housing pieces of their hearts -- women who watch their children grow with a new reverence for the passage of time.
I wish a Happy Mother's Day to every mother who fights for her kids in the face of unimaginable challenges.
May our fight always be stronger than our fear.