Mother’s Day

A year ago, on Mother’s Day, I sat in a church meeting surrounded by other women in Los Angeles, California. A teacher was at the front of the room doing her best to give an uplifting lesson about the importance of motherhood and womanhood, but I was distracted. I was reflecting on my journey as a mom. Exhaustion and stress weighed me down in my chair as I struggled to pay attention. There was gratitude and love in my heart, but also the honest acknowledgement that the few years of motherhood had been a challenge for me. Generally, Mother’s Day has always had a light, jovial feel but oddly enough this particular Sunday felt more sober. I looked around me and realized that I wasn’t the only one weighed down by my motherhood challenges.

Scattered throughout the room were close friends of mine who had their fair share of tragedy and trials in the maternity department. Sitting behind me, one sweet friend of mine dressed in black mourning the loss of her little baby to an unexpected illness. On both sides of me were a couple friends who struggled with infertility and health issues, and their longing to fill their quiet homes with a crib, toys, baby smells, laughs, and cries was palpable and hung heavily in the air. In front of me were ladies of all ages not yet married therefore not even given the option yet to be a mom. I thought of one of my best friends and though she was blessed with beautiful children, she lost her mom at a young age. She suffered silently every day, but even more so on Mother’s Day.

For the first time, I understood that Mother’s Day was not a festive day for many but rather an agonizing one. Instead of it being a day to rejoice, it was more of a reminder to some of what they didn’t have or had lost, exposing many fresh and raw wounds impossible to cover up.

The teacher wrapped up her lesson leaving a few minutes at the end for any thoughts and comments. The aching, longing, and yearning hung heavily in the air, and my heart hurt for everyone around me. I wanted to say something that was uplifting and comforting, but anything from my own personal repertoire of experiences didn’t seem appropriate.

Then an image of my sister Victoria came into my mind.

Victoria is the oldest of us kids, and from the beginning she assumed the responsible and dependable role in our family. When my Mom needed to get anything done, she asked Victoria to do it, because she knew it would get done. When I was having a hard day, Victoria would take me get some food and go on a long drive. She has such a quiet comforting nature about her, that just being in her presence after a hard day is chicken soup for the soul. Her kindness and purity have strong healing properties. But if I had to describe Victoria in just one word, it would be faith. She has unwavering faith; the kind of belief that makes one feel optimistic and hopeful for the future even in the darkest of times.

Though she is a beautiful girl with an even more beautiful heart, Victoria hasn’t met her match yet. As we all got older, more of us siblings found our match and paired off. At each of our weddings, Victoria showed up in her bridesmaid dress and welcomed a new sibling into the family. She celebrated each special occasion with a heart full of love and excitement for each sibling. Our family expanded quickly, and it wasn’t long before it seemed there was a new baby at every family reunion. Since all of us Woodhouse kids have been best friends since we were small, all of us are extremely sensitive to Victoria, and never want her to feel out of place or left behind. But with each family function she shows up all smiles with enough positive energy to easily make her the favorite Aunty.

In the 7 years that I’ve been married, I have never seen Victoria feel sorry for herself or retreat in self-pity. Not once. I always wondered though how she managed to keep such a happy façade when I knew she would love to start a family of her own. Surely being around us and our kids must feel like salt being rubbed in her wounds. How did she manage to keep a skip in her step and a genuine smile on her face when so many others in her same situation wore their pain on their sleeves? What was her secret?

All of my questions were answered one night when Victoria called me up to tell me about a dream. She spoke quickly and excitedly as she described this dream to me. With Victoria’s permission and paraphrasing her words, here is what she dreamt.

“I WAS walking through a house, and I saw a woman sitting in a rocking chair holding a little baby. She was holding the baby close to her, and rocking her to sleep as the baby laid quietly on her shoulder. Cheek to cheek, she hummed a little song as the baby tranquilly slept on her. The whole scene was so beautiful and peaceful, and the room was full of so much love and happiness, I didn’t want to leave. I just wanted to watch this woman rock her baby a little longer. And then the woman turned, and I saw her face.

I realized that the woman rocking her baby to sleep was me.

And just like that I knew that in my dream I was holding my baby. That was my baby I was rocking to sleep.”

At this point we were both crying. Well, to be clearer she was sniffling and still talking and I sobbed. Hard. I sobbed hard.

Then she said these next few words with so much faith and hope, I felt it in my core that she was exactly right.

“Alyssa, I’m going to be a Mom someday, I know it, because I saw my baby.

I’m going to be a Mom.”

From this conversation on, I have never worried about Victoria again. I found the source of her confidence and optimism, and it had little to do with her present circumstances but rather everything to do with her faith in what was to come. Since then, Victoria has gone on to share her nurturing maternal gifts with kids all over the world as she travels to different countries teaching little kids English.

I have reflected on Victoria’s dream and her faith quite often. Though my trials have come in a different form, I still struggle with the kind of trials that don’t seem to have a solution that will come anytime soon, maybe not even in this lifetime. From a mortal, finite perspective, this can be very depressing. But before I allow the panic and depression to set in, I think of Victoria and her conviction. I think of her excitement and certainty when she said the words “I’m going to be a Mom”. I think of her big bright smile in her bridesmaid’s dress on the sidelines at four of our weddings, and I think of her loud laugh when she is playing with all of her nieces and nephews during the holidays. Victoria has taught me that the key to floating up above the hardships instead of sinking into the depths of despair is faith. It is finding the beauty in the present and enjoying what life has to offer me right now, because it’s all going to be okay. Eventually all that is out of my control and broken right now will be worked out.

A beautiful principle we learn about in church is called the Principle of Compensation. Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin expounds on this in a talk called “Come What May and Love It”. In this talk he says,

“The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude… Life will continue on the other side of the veil. There we will be given new opportunities. Not even death can take from us the eternal blessings promised by a loving Heavenly Father”.

Every time I read Elder Wirthlin’s words, I get chills, and I believe his words with all of my heart.

For those who can’t have babies in this lifetime, you will hold a sweet baby someday. Not just any baby, YOUR baby.To those who have lost your Mom and ache for her a little extra today, know that you WILL see her again, hear her call your name again, and feel her embrace again.

And if you are among the Moms who have gone through the hardest trial that a Mother could possibly go through, and you have lost a child, know that you will hold your sweet baby again and have the opportunity to hold, kiss, snuggle, and raise your darling child. That baby remains YOUR baby throughout the eternities.

And if you don’t have it in you to believe with confidence in what is to come just yet, and you don’t have an older sister like mine, that’s okay. I’ll share my older sister Victoria with you to lean on since she has enough faith to carry us all.