Karen Lascher has a complicated relationship with Mother's Day | The Moth

It was Mother's Day 2010 and uh I had gotten up and um took a little bit of extra time getting ready that day. Um which was unusual for me. Uh and went to church and then came home and got ready to celebrate with my family.

And this was a little bit odd in my life because um for two reasons. And the first reason was that I was in the restaurant business and I usually spent my mother's day um managing the celebrations of others not celebrating myself. And the second reason was because well Mother's Day was kind of muddy waters for me.

You see as far as the world knew I had become a mother nine years earlier when I gave birth to my daughter. But in reality, when I was 23 on May 6, 1987, I had given birth to a little girl. And for the few days after she was born, I held her oh so tightly, but not too tightly because people tell you you can't really form a bond.

As if a bond doesn't exist between a mother and a child. As if I hadn't carried her for nine months. as if I hadn't talked to her for the last five months.

As soon as I could feel her move, I talked to her every day. She was part of my life. We had a bond.

But I kind of followed their advice and I would just come to the hospital a few times a day and sometimes I would just look at her through the nursery and sometimes I would hold her. And uh on Saturday, she was born on Wednesday and on Saturday, I came to the hospital and they gave me a little room, like a little private room, kind of like an office kind of thing. And they sat me in there and the nurse came and brought my daughter to me.

And we sat in that room and I held her oh so tightly. And I wished her health and happiness and joy and laughter and a handsome prince and grand adventures and everything that a mother wishes for her daughter. And I said goodbye.

And the next day was Mother's Day and I went to my parents house and to celebrate Mother's Day with my mother and I put on a pretty good face. I think we all did. But at some point I retreated to a bedroom and I laid down on a bed and I cried.

No, I sobbed. I think it's more like wailing. That deep within where I didn't know pain could be so deep.

On that same Mother's Day, there was a young woman who had wailed those same whales for years because she couldn't have children. And she came from a huge large family. And on that Mother's Day, she gathered with that huge large family, all of them together.

and they welcomed this little girl into their family. And she held that little girl. And in that moment, in the wake of her immeasurable grief, there was great joy and it was a great celebration.

So, Mother's Day was a little complex for me. And so, but on this Mother's Day, I was there with my husband and my daughter and my parents were there and a few of my siblings were coming later in the afternoon with their kids and we were having a celebration and there was this sort of nervous excitement and anticipation in the room and the doorbell rang. And I went to the door and I kind of took a deep breath.

And I opened the door and the 23-year-old version of myself stood on the other side. And she looked at me and she said, "Well, wow. I would sure know you were my mom if I saw you walking down the street.

" And we laughed and we cried. And her mother was there, had brought her. And her mother said to me, "On Mother's Day, you gave me the greatest gift ever.

And on this Mother's Day, I wanted to give that gift to you. " And in all those years of grief, after all those years of grief, there was great joy. And it was a huge celebration.

Keep it going for Karen.