My son is 40 months old, and I still can’t believe I’m a mama.

This morning, a Facebook memory from 4 years ago reminded me why Mother’s Day can still feel tender for me:

“This past year, I have been struggling to accept that my future doesn’t include having children of my own. It has been a mostly private grief, and it hits hard on particular holidays: Christmas, New Year’s, Mother’s Day, and my birthday. I’ve cried several times today, mourning the child I will never have and the mother I will never be. It is one of the few regrets I have, and it breaks my heart on many different levels. There is something missing, and I am grieving.”

I remember that version of myself so well, the heartbreak, the ache, and how I kept going while still showing up for everyone else.

And I know I am not the only woman who has felt that kind of loss. For many women, Mother’s Day is not a simple or joyful occasion. It can bring up grief, longing, regret, hope, disappointment, or all of those things at once.

That is especially true for women who have spent years giving everything to everyone else and pushing their own needs aside, which is something I know a lot of burned-out teachers will recognize.

For much of my adult life, motherhood seemed unlikely.

As a teenager, I was anorexic and went years without a regular period.

I struggled with disordered eating for nearly two decades, and by the time I figured out how to eat for my health, I was in my mid-thirties and past my prime fertility years.

My twenties and thirties were also consumed with work.

I was a perfectionist, and teaching pulled that out of me even more.

I spent hours planning, creating lessons, and making sure everything was done properly. I was reluctant to ask for help, and so many evenings and weekends disappeared into schoolwork.

That kind of work ethic may look admirable from the outside, but it leaves very little room for rest, relationships, or even asking yourself what you want from your own life.

At 35, a friend of mine asked me if I wanted children. A friend of his had recently had a baby through donor sperm and was now raising the child on her own. Would I be interested in doing that?

At the time, I wanted a partner more than I wanted a child, so the idea hadn’t even crossed my mind. Now, seeing how supportive my parents are and how much joy their grandson has given them, I think we could have done it, but it wasn’t the right decision for me at the time.

At 37, I considered freezing my eggs, but it wasn't until I looked into it that I realized I should have thought about it at least ten years earlier (although I probably didn't have the money necessary to do it in my mid-twenties).

The fact that women’s fertility sharply declines after age 32, and by 37 there are 3% of the eggs they are born with left, was news I didn’t want to hear for the first time at 37.

It made me wish women were taught more about their cycles and fertility much earlier, because knowledge really is empowering, and it helps us make decisions with more clarity and less regret.

At 39, I met the man I thought I would build a family with. He wanted children, too, and for a while I allowed myself to imagine that future.

But I was already exhausted in ways I did not fully understand. Teaching had worn me down emotionally and physically, and I had also dealt with two ovarian cysts in eight months.

Burnout was not helping my body feel safe or supported, even if I did not know how to say that at the time.

We broke up during the pandemic, and I truly thought that was the end of my chance to become a mom. I was over 40, no longer in a relationship, and grieving the family I had imagined.

When I met Vinny in January 2021, having a family wasn't on my mind as I'd recently accepted a job teaching at an international school in Macau. However, he was kind, warm, funny, and French Canadian, and I couldn’t help falling in love. He had a three-year-old son, and we hit it off immediately.

My life became infinitely richer with Vinny’s son in it.

He’s kind-hearted, curious, active, and funny, and it has been such a gift to watch him grow.

One of his classmates asked me who I was in the playground one day after school, and I said I was his stepmom. She was so excited for him: “You’re so lucky to have two moms! I want to have two moms too!”

The kids get it even better than many adults. He is lucky to have another adult in his life who loves him, cares for him, plays with him, helps him learn, and teaches him about the world.

Vinny and I had already decided not to have children together by then. We were both over 40, and I was also beginning to realize that I could no longer ignore how badly teaching had been draining me.

After one particularly hard year, I resigned in January 2022 and poured myself into coaching. We were building a life that felt more honest, more spacious, and more aligned with the kind of well-being I had been craving for years.

That Mother’s Day was a particularly difficult one (see FB post from intro).

It was the first time I truly felt that I would never be a mom, and it hit me hard.

While I still agreed with our decision not to have a child, it didn’t stop the grief that came with knowing I would never be a mom.

That same month, I did a half-marathon in Canmore as part of my training for the Banff Marathon in mid-June. It was challenging. I was tired and nauseous and finished much slower than anticipated. Most of me thought it was just because the course was hilly (it is a mountain town), but a little voice wondered if I was pregnant.

My period had been irregular the last few months (hello, perimenopause!), and it was more than 2 weeks late that weekend. I didn’t share my worries with anyone until texting my friend Michelle while in the grocery store for advice on whether to buy a pregnancy test or not.

Waiting for the result felt like the longest three minutes of my life. I did not know whether I would feel excited, disappointed, or overwhelmed.

Even after seeing “Pregnant 3+” on the display, I wasn’t sure how to feel.

So many questions were flying through my mind. How would Vinny feel? How would his son feel about becoming a big brother? How would I run my business? Was I too old to have a baby?

And then came all the worries because I was of ‘advanced maternal age’ (used to be called a geriatric pregnancy; I’m not sure if ‘AMA’ is any better).

As someone with anxiety, I now had more things to worry about. All of the work I’d done during my forced leave of absence the year before helped me move through all the emotions I was feeling, and I embraced being pregnant.

My doctor of over 15 years knew me and my burnout story, has told me several times how I probably would not have gotten pregnant had I stuck with my teaching career, and I wholeheartedly agree.

I moved down to the Half Marathon for Banff (completed at 9 weeks!), then stopped running because needing a bathroom while running became a common occurrence. So I walked, biked, and hiked all summer and into the fall. I continued to lift weights and practice yoga (I’d been doing it for over 20 years, and made sure to do things safely). Other than being nauseous in my first trimester, I had a wonderful pregnancy.

Mon petit amour was born three years ago in January, and I couldn’t be more grateful that he is here.

Yes, he was a surprise, but that doesn’t make him any less welcome. He is my miracle baby.

Vinny warned me that I’d feel overwhelmed by how much I loved him and that my love for him would keep growing as we got to know each other. He was right because I am still awestruck by his little face every morning.

He’s incredibly good-natured, happy, and smiles easily. He is curious and active and keeps us on our toes. His giggles make my heart happy, and I love watching him figure things out.

Both boys are gifts. I am incredibly lucky to have them be a part of my life. I’m so grateful to be their mom and bonus mom, and I look forward to creating beautiful memories as a family for many years to come.

There are as many journeys to motherhood as there are mothers.

Each story is different. Each one carries its own mix of hope, grief, joy, loss, and love.

Whatever your story is, and wherever you are on the path, I hope you feel held this Mother’s Day.