The Moms Who Work the Hardest

On Mother's Day, I want to honor my mom most of all. She works very hard, and she always has. She's amazing. But today I'm writing about some other moms, a group of moms that my own mom has taught me to appreciate by her words and her example.

They're all different ages, from a twenty-year-old devastated by her unborn baby's diagnosis, to a seventy-year-old struggling to care for a toddler in a fifty-year-old's body. They're in all stages of mothering, some changing diapers and some getting adult children ready for fast food jobs. They're assigned tasks that are much harder than the tasks assigned to most moms, and those tasks seem never-ending. They face disappointment and uncertainty about the future. Sometimes they're overwhelmed by despair.

I admire every mom. Motherhood, even more than marriage, means sacrifice. A mom gives up much of her social life for her kids. She can't just go out and have fun in the same way anymore. She's got a helpless, sloppy, wailing ball-and-chain. As her kids grow up and start going to school, she has a little more freedom, but many more errands to run and more places to take them. I used to look at my mom, who has five kids, and wonder how she could be content to live so completely for her family.

But mothers of children with disabilities sacrifice even more. Many of them remain stuck in the hardest stages of child rearing as their children's brains stop developing. When their children make progress, even amazing progress, other people don't understand or celebrate it the way they do. 

I used to play with some of their children. We had five four- and five-year-old babies at the Early Childhood Center in Godfrey, IL, when I was there in 2009. I remember one little girl in particular- her sweet smile, the way she stalked awkwardly around the room. Her hands reached aimlessly out, not purposely picking up a toy like another girl her age would have. Our "babies" were adorable, but we had to constantly guess what they needed. I heard the teacher arguing with the physical therapist, their voices rising. If these women who have been educated for years for this don't know what to do, how could an untrained twenty-year-old know what to do with this child? She'd have to study, learn, worry, make mistakes, get advice, try again.

Mothers of children with disabilities lose their freedom the way every  mother does, only more so- more completely and more permanently. Imagine having a baby for life. For as long as you live. I don't think I  could do it. (Not that every child who has a disability is a baby for life- but some are.)

If your child had physical needs, you'd have to design every trip and vacation to accommodate him. You might have to make special food and schedule repeated doctor visits. 

You'd feel forced out of social gatherings when your child screamed or misbehaved. You'd feel like an outcast after you left. If you didn't leave, you'd face annoyed stares and judgment. 

I see it this way: Everything that's simple for me is a chore for a mom, and everything that's simple for me is a huge struggle for the mom of a child with a disability.

I don't know if any mothers of children with disabilities are even reading this. If you are, I just want to say: Thank you for the happiness you bring into the world. Your child makes us smile and helps us in ways that other children can't. Thank you for putting up with the people who don't understand your struggle. I couldn't take the looks and the comments that you take on a regular basis.

I promise that I will never be annoyed by your child. I'll talk to him or her like I would to anyone else. I'll try to give you a break when I can. I won't tell you to "let me know if there's something I can do for you". I'll ask specific questions, what can I do for you, and I'll do it.

Most of all, I want you to know that God knows. He knows everything- all the extra work, the heartache and worry, the disappointment and the joy that your child brings to you. He knows the way your child makes everything in your life at least four times harder than it should be. He knows the looks people give you when your child is loud in public, and the times you pretend not to notice, but it hurts. He knows if you've lost a friend or two because they just didn't want to share your burden.

He knows that your child's babyhood or toddlerhood or childhood is lasting much longer than most. That it seems like that difficult stage will never end.

He is there. "Underneath are the everlasting arms." He knows, and knowing how hard it is, He wants you to rest. Just rest in His everlasting arms and trust Him that you're going to make it through this. He has a wonderful plan for you and for your child. If no one else tells you this mother's day, I appreciate you and I admire you. Your love makes the world a more beautiful place. Happy Mother's Day.