Mother's Day
The theme for CIAW this year was "Out In The Open: Share your Story" and it is what really motivated me to get our story out there. I highly recommend following "Fertility Matters Canada" on Facebook for those who have struggled with infertility because it is FULL of brave, beautiful people sharing their stories. I am telling you, sharing really does break down the walls that we build up and it shatters the stigma that you are walking this path alone. Each story is so unique, so heartbreaking and so powerful. Check that page out. I am grateful for the stories that I have read that have given me courage to share ours.
Switching gears, Mother's Day was this past weekend. Ah, Mother's Day. We woke up that morning to our daughter running into our room yelling "it's Mother's Day! It's Mother's Day!", full of excitement to give me the card and flowers she had made and picked out on her own. My husband grabbed her hand and took her downstairs, and I could hear them giggling together, the sound of a special breakfast being made down there. She yelled up at me to stay "until we call you down, okay!?" Yep, she is so sweet and so very adorable. And yet, as I sat there, alone for a few minutes in my room, a few different emotions hit me, and I found myself crying. There were three parts to this emotion that I felt that I want to share with you.
The first layer was overwhelming sadness for women who were waking up without their babies yelling 'Happy Mother's Day' at them. Women whose stories I have had the privilege of hearing, of praying with, of crying with. This journey has brought us into contact with so many couples with heartbreaking stories, who desperately want to be parents and for whom it is just not happening. Moms who have experienced loss, frustration, solid walls, and those who are stuck in the middle of the waiting game. Waiting for another treatment, waiting for their adoption to go through, waiting for time to pass in hopes that it becomes less painful as time goes on. My heart just shatters for those couples, especially the women on Mother's Day. I can't help but cry for them, and be brought to my knees in prayer over them, knowing how painful this holiday can be.
The second layer is more complicated, and is tied up with the third. I hesitate to write about it, because of its complications. I do so very gently. There is this weird, hard to explain space exists when you "only" have one child - at least it exists for me, maybe because the feeling that my family isn't yet complete never leaves me. It shows up when people remark about how "easy" life must be for me, since I only have one child to look after. How "nice" it must be to not have the stress of worrying that one babe will wake another in the middle of the night. How I don't have to deal with bickering of siblings, or the dividing of my attention. Because of my sensitive nature and my tendency to over think and dwell on things, this pours over into other areas. I feel guilty when I have a hard day. I feel like I shouldn't have the "right" to be exhausted or stressed over parenting decisions, because I "only" have one, and how much more must it feel for those who have multiple? So on days like this, Mother's Day, I feel immense guilt. Like I shouldn't be honoured, because my job as a parent of one is somehow "less than" those who have two or more.
Now listen up. If another mom were telling me this, I would give them a verbal, gentle, reality slap and wake them up, and tell them they could not be more wrong. No mom, no person, is less than another. I KNOW that. I shout that loudly for others to hear. However, I promised you honesty. So here it is, all tied up with raw emotion. I am going to talk about these things, because I know I am not the only one who feels them, and like I've said, sharing is healing. And sometimes our feelings aren't rational, and they aren't tied up in logic. It's up to us to fight our way through them and rest in what IS truth, and not just confused emotion.
Okay back to it. This guilt I feel makes me cry. The guilt over feeling like I don't deserve the giggling and excitement I hear coming from down the stairs. The guilt over knowing my husband had previously wanted a house full of kids, and that these issues with my body and fertility has tampered that for him and for us. He's so good, so understanding and gentle, and I feel guilt over that too, because of the anger I sometimes feel. So as I listen to them work to put breakfast together, tears flow over the baby we don't have, the one that I miss and ache for, the one that I see is missing in every family photo.
But I said that this layer was tied up in the third, and it is. I read recently that having one baby and then experiencing infertility is like feeling cheated and grateful at the same time. So much truth to that. The third layer to my tears is the joy and the gratefulness. I don't have two babies. But I am still a mom to one beautiful, smart, hilarious little girl. I know what it's like to be so tired you can barely think. To worry about anything and everything - oh the worry! Is that fever too high? Is her speech on track? Will she choose to believe in God? I kiss owies better, and I put band-aids on stuffies. I play Princesses, Doctor, Chef and I make forts all day long. I have taught her how to sing loudly, tell jokes, roll her eyes (this was unintentional, apparently they learn while watching also), write her ABC's, use scissors, and bake muffins. I listen to long winded stories until my ears want to bleed. I know the theme songs to Paw Patrol, Peppa Pig, Strawberry Shortcake, Veggie Tales and Magic School Bus. I fight with her over going to sleep, and the second she is sleeping, I stare in wonder at this miracle of a little life. I love this tiny human more than I could ever express to her. I am a mom. I am her mom, and it is a title I wear proudly. This too, makes me cry. These tears are the joyful ones, and they are louder and more powerful than the guilty ones. As I hear her running up the stairs, yelling at her dad that she's coming to get me to show me the surprise, I wipe away the tears and put on a big smile, because my kid is excited for Mother's Day, and I am so glad I am her mom.
So I force down the guilt, relish in the joy, and allow myself to be in the moment with my very precious family. To those Moms full of pain on this day, know that I see you. You are not forgotten. I love you. I am praying for you faithfully. Your family is in the hands of our Maker (as is mine). Psalm 27:14 says "Wait for the Lord. Be Strong and take Heart. Wait for the Lord". I know it's hard. And I don't know how the chapters to your story (or my own) will play out. But I do know that we are loved, and our desires are heard. Be strong, and take heart.
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