I peeked in on Jackson and found him wide awake. He wasn’t hungry, and he wasn’t crying. He just wasn’t sleepy. I probably should have left him alone, but there would be a day when my Little Man wouldn’t want to be rocked.
I stared at the verse painted on the nursery wall like I had done so many times before. “I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of Him” (1 Samuel 1:27). I rocked Jackson by the glow of the streetlight pouring into the room through the cracks in the blinds. It was after midnight, my first Mother’s Day.
Our families were in town to celebrate the occasion as well as Jackson’s dedication at church.
I had called Allison the previous day—Birth Mother’s Day—to thank her for the precious gift she had given me. She had sent me a beautiful Mother’s Day card and had signed it “Much Gratitude, Allison.”
But like the night before the sonogram, I was overcome with grief. Jackson sucked on his pacifier as I rocked him. I silently prayed for my baby boy and thanked God for letting me be his mommy. The weekend would be full of joy and celebration for me, but I knew that wasn’t the case for Jackson’s birth mom.
I prayed for God to comfort Allison. I kissed Jackson’s head and held him a little tighter. Allison would never rock him. She would never walk into his room in the early morning hours and be greeted by his crazy bed-head and wide, toothless grin. Something about that realization made me sad. Would Allison feel sad, or would the day pass without any thought of Jackson? Would Mother’s Day always bring such a mix of emotions?
I sat in the dark, holding my son as he slept, and the tears began to fall. I realized Allison would always be a part of my Mother’s Day celebrations; after all, she was Jackson’s mother too.
***This post is an excerpt from my book Bringing Home the Missing Linck: A Journey from Faith to Family. You can purchase the book here!
*Today I’m linking up with Lisa Jo for Five Minute Friday. You can join the fun and get a dose of encouragement here.