Growing up Mother's Day was always that holiday that I would try to think of something sweet I could do to make my own mom feel appreciated. There was no association with pain or sadness, maybe guilt sometimes if I wasn't as prepared as I should have been, lol, but mostly joy and gratefulness that God blessed me with such a great mom. I loved being able to shower her with love and praise - she deserves it for all the time, sacrifice, and love she has poured into our family over the years.
A few years ago, however, Mother's Day took on new emotions for me. I honestly started to dread the approach of Mother's Day as I knew it would be the flashing neon sign reminding me of how I was incapable of becoming a mother. Infertility can cause Mother's Day to be one of the hardest days of the year. I know for me, infertility became just a daily part of my life - some days would be harder than others, but it almost becomes a part of who you are, a defining characteristic because it affects so many of the decisions you make and the direction of your life. But Mother's Day is that one day a year where everyone stops and turns their attentions towards mothers and pours out accolades and dotes on all those wonderful women who have given so much - oh the blessing of motherhood. It's true, it's so very true that it's a blessing and those wonderful women have sacrificed so much and SHOULD be honored, but to the infertile heart it's so very painful. You want to feel that precious life in you SO badly, you want to make the sacrifice and give that precious child everything you possibly can, but yet for some reason God has said "no". For whatever reason, you're left sitting on your chair at church while all the other women stand up when the preacher recognizes the mothers. Everyone around you is told "Happy Mother's Day" while people quietly walk passed you because, after all, you're not a mother. Proverbs 30:15, 16 says it well:
“There are three things that are never satisfied,
four that never say, ‘Enough!’:
the grave, the barren womb,
land, which is never satisfied with water,
and fire, which never says, ‘Enough!’"
four that never say, ‘Enough!’:
the grave, the barren womb,
land, which is never satisfied with water,
and fire, which never says, ‘Enough!’"
The barren womb longs to be filled, yet this day is a reminder that that deep longing and yearning are still unfulfilled with no explanation or reason as to why.
Moving forward to this year... I look down today and see this bulge on my belly and feel these movements beneath my skin and I realize that today, on this Mother's Day, I'm a mom... and the thought makes me weep. I weep with joy and unbelief and gratitude at this miraculous gift in my womb, this gift that I never thought I would get to experience. Oh, precious little one in my womb, if you only knew how dearly you are loved already! However, as much as my weeping is of joy, a portion of my weeping is still in sadness. Now that I have tasted the pain and sorrow of infertility, I don't think I will ever be able to look at this day the same because my heart is still heavy for all those women who wake up and get to walk through today with the painful reminder of that yearning that is still unfulfilled asking, "Why God? Why not yet?" and having to surrender to His timing even when it makes no sense. I'll go to church today and look around at all the women that surround me knowing there are likely some who are deeply grieving today and honestly, my heart hurts deeply for them. I anticipate the pastor's words honoring the women in the congregation who get to wear the title of "Mom" and, for the first time, those words don't stab my heart, but yet I cringe a little knowing that knife is going into someone else's heart and I long for comforting words to be spoken to those who have experienced loss - whether it be of a child you've actually conceived or the loss of a child you've only dreamed of conceiving, or even the loss of your own mother.
Today my heart is filled with gratitude and joy and thankfulness, but today I also mourn and weep and pray for my dear sisters who surround me who are hurting on this day - your pain isn't forgotten.
"[The Lord] heals the brokenhearted
and binds up their wounds.
He determines the number of the stars
and calls them each by name.
Great is our Lord and mighty in power;
His understanding has no limit." Psalm 143:3-5
and binds up their wounds.
He determines the number of the stars
and calls them each by name.
Great is our Lord and mighty in power;
His understanding has no limit." Psalm 143:3-5
1 comment:
I can relate so much to this post, even though I am a mom to 2 amazing little girls, there is always this little place of pain, due to the years of infertility and now a loss of a very special baby. It is something I would never wish on anyone. But take the time to enjoy the moments becuase you are and always will be a mom, it is truly an amazing ride!!
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