Is Mother's Day the worst day of the year for both birth mothers and the adopted?

Lorraine

Here it comes again, Mother's Day, impossible to delete from the calendar or ignore totally because of the incessant ads that pop up everywhere, from the internet to the newspaper to the super bargains on the Today show that are just "perfect for mom." All if it reminds us of our own fractured motherhood. I've been through the gamut of emotions about Mother's Day, beginning when I did not know where my daughter was (call it a nightmare), and my own mother did not even know my daughter existed (no one to share the blues with), to those years after reunion when I tried to ignore the hoopla the week preceding the big day hoping she would remember me in some small way, but alas, she often did not. (A good day to dig in the garden.)

It's here again: Mother's Day Blues

Yes, I got this one. Not my favorite. 

The world's worst "holiday" is just days away--Mother's Day. For many mothers who lost their children to adoption, it is a day of miserable reminders of the children we do not have, and we approach it with all the joy of someone on her way to her own execution.

 And it can't be ignored. Ads are everywhere--in the newspaper, on television, in magazines, on the internet, on Facebook. Send flowers! Buy a bracelet! Perfume! A day at the spa! Even Women for Women, a charity I support, is sending me emails urging me to give a woman in some far-away country a sewing machine or money to start a garden and give my mother a card saying it was done in her name. Personally I find that kind of "gift," unless requested by the recipient, specious and not a gift at all. But back to our dilemma:

Will a card come in the mail? Will my daughter call? Just as adoptees wonder if their first mother thinks about them on

It's Mother's Day again. 'Birth' Mother's Day too.

Mother's Day card from my daughter

Here it comes again, Mother's Day, impossible to miss because of the incessant ads that pop up everywhere, reminding us of our own fractured motherhood. I've been through the gamut of emotions about Mother's Day, beginning when I did not know where my daughter was, and my own mother did not even know my daughter existed, to those years after reunion when I spent the week preceding the big day hoping she would remember me in some small way. She often did not. Oh heavy was my heart!

While I was feeling sorry for myself, I always imagined a big celebration going on with her adoptive mother--card, dinner, what-have-you. There were other children, and her adoptive father who was not likely to let any of them forget. I don't know if that was the case because I never asked. But one year, I got a wonderful hand-made card that said: To my Other Mother. Inside it says: "I couldn't find a card that defined our relationship, but then all truly matters is that is that I let you know, I Love You. Happy Mothers day LORRAINE, love Jane." It must have come with a present, because there is a note on the back about using whatever she sent to "relax after a long hard day."

Mother's Day is here: Do something to chase away the blues

Lorraine 

Okay, it is that terrible day again for many of us--mothers whose children were adopted. I've certainly had my share--when I didn't know where my daughter Jane was, and then after I found her, she rarely acknowledged me on this day, and that felt terrible too. In my mind I could see her buying flowers for her other mother, the family going out to lunch, a funny card--you know, the whole works--while I didn't even get a phone call.

Some of you are in the same position today and damn! it hurts.

But instead of letting self-pity engulf you today, get up and do something that you like--or will at least keep you occupied: weed the garden, clean out the closets, go to the movies (no sad ones!), go shopping (and treat yourself to something nice),