Happy Mother’s Day.

I became a mom when I was 23. Except I didn't even know I was becoming a mom. Sounds impossible doesn’t it? But it is true. It started by babysitting a 4 year old I had just met - and then repeatedly being the one who cared for her, took her to school, the doctor, kept her safe, and healthy. I thought I was just being a helpful adult. That I was helping her mom, than her dad, then her grandparents. That I loved her so I would be there for her, because she deserved someone to be when her world was filled with adults who couldn’t be. 

I remember the first time someone called me her mom and I corrected them. They responded laughing saying I didn't even realise I was but everyone else did. I was so young. Would I do it all again? Yes. But differently. There is a lot I would change. I was broken, in survival mode, and so unaware of who I was, what I was capable of, and what I was even dealing with. She blessed me with purpose, with a reason to keep trying to become better. With awareness that I could be more. It was difficult, so so so difficult at times, but she remains one of my biggest loves, and is also one of my closest friends now. Happy Mother’s day Maria, thank you for teaching me to be a mom.

I became a biological mom when I was 38. After finally accepting that being a bio mom just wasn’t going to be part of my life. I accepted that because of PCOS, trauma and the simple fact I could never let anyone in long enough to attach - I was not going to have a biological child. I decided to manifest bringing a child to me, and began to consider adoption, even fostering again. Manifestation is not about the ‘how’, right? Well, I found out I was pregnant, and loved every moment of my pregnancy. I really did, even the pains, I played my growing belly music, talked to her constantly, and celebrated the amazing path my life had flipped towards. 

Then she came early. So very dangerously early, and I struggled to keep my center, my peace, my trust. But not really. Because I knew she chose me, and I was not going to lose her, only build an even stronger confidence and connection to the universal principles, and energetic manifestation with faith. So, I pulled up my big girl pants, and went through the trauma, the exhaustion, the frustrating and sometimes incredibly painful time of her being separated from me in the NICU. Then the times she returned to the hospital with an illness or breathing difficulties, I survived. I didn’t doubt I could do it, I knew I could, surviving was inside my core - it was part of who I was because i had already survived so much, I was an expert at survival mode.

I tried my hardest to be present in those times, and finally when I could breath again I realized how being her mother had changed me. She is my light, my lesson in love. I focused, I excelled, I learned who I really was at my core. Set healthier boundaries, with others, with myself. Finally, I allowed myself to trust in love. 

In there I also became a step mother. It has not always been easy, I had to learn some ways to maintain boundaries, how to release a lot of my own control. I also see a lot of my own behaviours in him, constantly forcing myself to let him take his own path. He is growing into a wonderful man, and I see so much of his potential, kindness, and strength as he learns who he is. I am blessed to know him, to love him, and my girls are so blessed to have him as their brother.

When I finally relaxed, trusting where I was, and who we were as a family, guess what? At 46 I had another baby. Yep. 46. This time I spent months, literally more than half of the pregnancy - on bedrest. It was frustrating and seemed impossible because although I meditated, and practiced peace - it was always in the mode of doing, going, being. 

Now, that time of my pregnancy is just a blur. So little amount of time in the big picture. My youngest is everything I could have been if I had never been through what I had as a child. She is spirited, funny, loving and determined. We read a story together, it has become her favourite saying - it tells the story of a mother and her baby being stars that drew together, while it shows love with different animal moms and babies. She says “I was a star here, you were there, and we just kept getting closer and closer Mom until we became us.” I am so very blessed that she chose us. She is teaching me so much.

My mom, she was such an amazing woman. She spent much of my childhood in her own survival mode after losing my dad. She told me how she didn’t know how to do banking, or understand much of what her finances even were when she lost him. She talked to me about how she never wanted to leave her northern relatives when he moved her away when they married. She was lonely, and when her ex reached out to her, she felt needed, and loved. So the torment that I went through as a youth with her partner, and our move, and the separation - it was her survival. But she loved me. She wasn’t perfect, but she supported me how she could. She taught me strength, and faith. She taught me the universal principles before we knew that is what they were called. 

The lessons from my mother are too plentiful to really list. Both in connection and pain. I know that I chose my mother because love isn’t always the path of beauty, understanding, and healthy choices. Sometimes it is twisted and unclear. At times it is filled with resentment, disconnection and longing. But even during those times, we can see that underneath all that - gunk - there is love. When she was sick, she would tell some people she was perfectly fine, going to get better, and then she would tell me the truth - that she was palliative, that her outcome wouldn’t be positive, and wouldn’t last long. I asked her finally why she kept telling others the opposite. She instantly started to cry, and told me that it was because she knew I could handle it. That she knew she could tell me the truth because I would listen, and it wouldn’t change us.

I didn’t really understand that at the time. It just frustrated me more. I didn’t want to be the ‘strong’ one. I didn’t want to hear it either. I understand it now. It is who I am. I am a healer, a supporter, a coach, a listener. I could handle it not because there was something wrong with me - but because it is who I am. She told me because I would not break with the knowledge. I am a survivor and she trusted that. At my core, my strength is my peace. Every day I find this more, the vulnerability of being who I am, is also my strength. It drives me forward to not only help others survive, but help them thrive.

So to all those who have been mother’s in any capacity, or have stored traumas from their own mother’s, in lack, or longing - come home this mother’s day to your centre. Find the gratitude, the vulnerability of your path, and your light - it is your strength too.