It seems so long ago that I wrote that little post on Mother's Day. (Links for it are also listed on the right under "Fertility Quest and Thoughts on Infertility.")
I've been thinking about a phrase from it:
It just isn’t fair that Mother’s Day became a bit better after having Everett.
And, you know, Everett will sing for the first time in Sacrament on Sunday . . . you know what he is going to sing, the Mother's Day song with the rest of the children in Primary. I am totally excited for him. I hope he enjoys the event and isn't scared to go up to the front.
I think I keep thinking about the phrase listed above because I am feeling guilty. I am approaching this Mother's Day with no anxiety, no unease, no frustration, and only a little trepidation. So unlike me, I know. I feel guilty because I have my two children. They may be the only children I have, and though I don't want to visit that aspect and how I feel about it here, I know that I have a full heart due to being content with my children and who I am as a mother. I rejoice everyday to have the chance to raise such fun little boys. At the same time, there is a spot of ache.
I ache for those that want, desire, would do anything they could . . . to have children, to have more children, and I ache because many feel hopeless, sad, worthless, ignored, and angry on Mother's Day.
I ache for their heartache on Mother's Day.
I don't pity them because I hated being pitied. I don't pretend to know the perfect word to calm the ache. I don't have the answers.
I do pray to know how to be supportive. I do love them. I do pray that they feel loved. I do pray that they will have some measure of peace on this day. And, I do remember how horrible Mother's Day used to be for me.
Don't get me wrong: I still get fired up when people make the issue of having babies about God's trust. I still get fired up when people notate worth of a family or a mother by number. I still get fired up when I hear the comment,"well, feel lucky you only have (insert number) kid(s), you have it easy . . . ." And, you can watch the red crawl up my neck and face when I hear someone give the "advice" to someone who struggles with infertility. (If I hear "relax" one more time.)
I still struggle with my infertility. At the same time, Mother's Day, for me now, is a day of gratitude. It is a chance for me to celebrate my family. I am grateful for a loving husband; I am grateful for my giggly, happy Everett; I am grateful for my dancing, playing Merritt.
I am grateful for the women in my life that surround me with love and expertise. I am a better person, woman, and mother due to their ministrations of service and examples of good.
I've been thinking about a phrase from it:
It just isn’t fair that Mother’s Day became a bit better after having Everett.
And, you know, Everett will sing for the first time in Sacrament on Sunday . . . you know what he is going to sing, the Mother's Day song with the rest of the children in Primary. I am totally excited for him. I hope he enjoys the event and isn't scared to go up to the front.
I think I keep thinking about the phrase listed above because I am feeling guilty. I am approaching this Mother's Day with no anxiety, no unease, no frustration, and only a little trepidation. So unlike me, I know. I feel guilty because I have my two children. They may be the only children I have, and though I don't want to visit that aspect and how I feel about it here, I know that I have a full heart due to being content with my children and who I am as a mother. I rejoice everyday to have the chance to raise such fun little boys. At the same time, there is a spot of ache.
I ache for those that want, desire, would do anything they could . . . to have children, to have more children, and I ache because many feel hopeless, sad, worthless, ignored, and angry on Mother's Day.
I ache for their heartache on Mother's Day.
I don't pity them because I hated being pitied. I don't pretend to know the perfect word to calm the ache. I don't have the answers.
I do pray to know how to be supportive. I do love them. I do pray that they feel loved. I do pray that they will have some measure of peace on this day. And, I do remember how horrible Mother's Day used to be for me.
Don't get me wrong: I still get fired up when people make the issue of having babies about God's trust. I still get fired up when people notate worth of a family or a mother by number. I still get fired up when I hear the comment,"well, feel lucky you only have (insert number) kid(s), you have it easy . . . ." And, you can watch the red crawl up my neck and face when I hear someone give the "advice" to someone who struggles with infertility. (If I hear "relax" one more time.)
I still struggle with my infertility. At the same time, Mother's Day, for me now, is a day of gratitude. It is a chance for me to celebrate my family. I am grateful for a loving husband; I am grateful for my giggly, happy Everett; I am grateful for my dancing, playing Merritt.
I am grateful for the women in my life that surround me with love and expertise. I am a better person, woman, and mother due to their ministrations of service and examples of good.
