Mother’s Day. This day has looked different to me every single year. On this day, I’ve felt grateful, resentful, hopeful, joyous, confused, anxious, elated, and a million other things. But one feeling has never diminished: Loved.
I spent my first 25 years simply loving on my mom on this day. I’ve always been immensely grateful to be her daughter. I saw her struggle over the years with personal battles, but her love for her children never faltered. She always let me know that I was her best friend. I miss talking to her on the phone for hours, sitting on her couch drinking coffee, and belly laughing with her over the little things. I sure wish she could be here today.
The next couple years were a little tricky for me. While I still celebrated my mom on this day, I became a wife and I felt a lot of pressure to be a mom when I knew I wasn’t ready. At the time, I was part of a religion that focuses on family. I felt resentment over time because the culture promotes early motherhood and I simply didn’t want to be a mom.
What came next was many years of heartache. This day became hollow for me after I lost my mom AND couldn’t get pregnant after years of trying. I’d cry over negative pregnancy tests and cry some more because I couldn’t hug my mom.
And then, it happened. I experienced my first Mother’s Day as a pregnant woman and I felt immeasurable love. Lydia was growing in my belly and we were connected from the moment I knew she was a part of me.
The next couple years were confusing. I felt overjoyed to have Lydia in my life, but my heart ached for another baby.
And then last year happened. It had only been two short months since I miscarried my sweet girl and I woke up that morning feeling broken. I knew I had to pull myself together and get out of bed to spend the day with Lydia, but I couldn’t help but feel devastated that my girl (and my mom) weren’t with us.
And then, my life changed again. Something told me to take a pregnancy test. This was insane. I had only become pregnant with Lydia and my baby girl in heaven after months of fertility treatments. But then… that little + showed up on my stick and I literally collapsed to the floor.
This picture was taken on that day. Mother’s Day 2020. I remember looking out over the water, as I held Lydia in my arms, Sonia in my belly, and my baby girl and sweet mom in my heart. I sobbed and sobbed and prayed and prayed.
This year, I woke up feeling a little less broken. Even though there are still two holes in my heart, I have two girls in my arms.
On this day, I’ve felt grateful, resentful, hopeful, joyous, confused, anxious, elated, and a million other things. But one feeling has never diminished: Loved.
Grateful. Resentful. Hopeful. Joyous. Confused. Anxious. Elated.
Loved.
Because through it all, I had the love of my Savior holding my heart and carrying me when I couldn’t walk on my own.
Today, I’m praying for all of those who feel the heartache a little extra today. Loss. Infertility. Miscarriage. Divorce. Failed adoptions. Grief. I see you. I pray for you- not for answers or understanding- just for a morsel of peace THROUGH His love.
I play this song over and over again… Especially when my heart feels a little too heavy to hold.
Lift your hands, lift your eyes
In the storm is where you’ll find Me.
And where you are, I’ll hold your heart.
Come to Me, find your rest,
In the arms of the God who won’t let go.
Happy Mother’s Day, mama. ♥️
Diannah Killian 
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