Old MacDonald had a farm

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Little man had his end-of-year daycare program yesterday evening. He was a little piggy for the verse of “Old MacDonald had a farm, E–I–E–I–O… and on that farm he had some pigs…E–I–E–I–O”.  Little man didn’t want to be a pig–specifically, he didn’t want to wear his cute little piggy ears. He wanted to run and play, and hit the balloons, and eat the pig-shaped cookies. Wearing the piggy ears just wasn’t an option in his little one-year-old mind. I suppose if I was a one-year-old, I would feel the same way.  But doggone it, he sure was cute for the 2.2 seconds we got him to keep them on for a picture. 🙂

My heart was happy to see him run and play and act like any other kid his age.  It  hurt though, to know that although we love him, and he calls me “Momma” with confidence, that’s not the way it will always be.  And last night as I thought about his fate in the foster care system, my sweet friend walked by with her daughter.  My friend, who is as good of a mom as any you’ll find, was there with her daughter, yet was missing her son who was killed in a car accident two summers ago. Why did she lose her child while the foster child I raise desperately needs a loving forever home? Why is life so unfair to those completely helpless to fight back? My foster child doesn’t lack for love, but he does lack for a stable home. His parents are caught up in a series of bad choices and it’s not clear yet whether they will improve so he can go back to them or not.  Will I be left with a few artwork pieces and precious pictures and memories ? Or will he need a forever home at our house? There’s no way to know for now.  As for my sweet friend, she doesn’t lack for other children or a loving husband, but that in no way whatsoever takes away the pain and anguish over losing her firstborn child.  Sometimes being a mom is one of the hardest tasks handed to us as human beings.

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day.  I think of all the moms (biological or otherwise) out there who come together with a common interest on this day.   Whether it’s a year to rejoice over how blessed we are, or to mourn what we have lost or never had, it’s an emotional time.  For some moms on this day, they must visit their kiddos in jail, while others visit theirs at a gravesite.  And yet others rejoice while they hold sticky, cuddly, smiley little ones…and their hearts are full, rightfully so.

To celebrate this Mother’s Day,  I pray for my little ones.  The ones I’ve cared for and sent back to their parents.  The ones I’ve been blessed with biologically (who aren’t so little anymore).  For the current foster child in my care.  And then I pray for moms everywhere.  I pray for my friend who still cries for the loss of her son.  I pray for my friends who have never been blessed with children, despite their most fervent wishes.  And for the moms who need a helping hand up, a better support system, a mother figure in their own lives… Let’s not forget them either.  (May we not forget–as a mother’s path goes, so does that of society).  Today, let’s take time out to be there for each other.  May we be that helping hand, that listening ear, that shoulder to cry on.  Remember–It doesn’t take a mother, it just takes someone who cares.

                                             Happy Mother’s Day

                               Nurse Ames, RN