March 2012
It has been a doozy for me for the past several months. Seriously.
I am finally at the end of the tunnel, coming out of the worst of it. Physically, I am still limited but am able to do more each week. Like, today, I used the *real* vacuum cleaner to clean up the living room. Please pull yourself off the floor from fainting in awe.
This weekend is Mother's Day Weekend. At the beginning of the year, as I was planning the special music selections for Sacrament for our ward, I was prompted to have a group of women perform on Mother's Day. And, was prompted to have them sing, not just a random song, but "Come Take a Little Hand." So, since the past couple of months have been filled with making it happen--from getting the music approved, to recruiting women to sing, to our practices, I've kind of been thinking about Mother's Day for awhile.
I've written about Mother's Day previously on this blog.
In 2008
In 2010
I have always been inarticulately grateful for my miracle boys. Right now, Erik and the boys are sleeping in a tent on the living room floor. All three of them are snoring away, loudly. I love it!
The reality is pretty clear. I have had the children that I am to have at this point. I don't have this driven feeling that "there is one more child out there for our family" or the "our family is complete feeling" as some women have. And, as I come across women that complain about their children or bemoan the fact that they can't help but get pregnant all the time . . . well, I just find myself in a place of not understanding, again.
As comments are made around the number of children people have and the idea that a woman with more children has more worth than that "lessly numbered woman" . . . well, I get all twitchy again. Worth is never tied to a number, a race, a gender, an education level, or a haircolor. We are each of infinite worth. I *know* this. And, yet, anger and doubt still creep in when I think of what I really want to do and the reality of what I can do.
Yesterday, while collecting dirty laundry, I had an impression of truth that most of you will think is remedial. Most of my quest in understanding my struggle with infertility has been around, "Maybe God just doesn't think it is the right time." An inherently flawed notion since it lines me up for the idea that *sometime* in this life will be the "right time."
Yesterday, a whisper with a strong feeling of confirmation and contentment: The blessings and challenges that come to families that have many children are not the blessings and challenges that Heavenly Father has in store for you in this life.
And, for the first time, ever, I felt at peace with my infertility. Even, excited at being able to understand and put to rest the feelings of churning or turmoil that I experience with not understanding. I am ready to let go, to embrace being different, to be okay with the phrase "you only have two . . . ."
Yesterday, as I walked down the stairs with the boys' laundry box, I was in awe. Maybe, I have finally matured to a point that will bring lasting peace with accepting that it is fine that a most deep seated desire will be unfulfilled in this life.
I will most likely never know why I was prompted to pull an awesome group of women together and sing a specific song on Mother's Day. But, I do know that my Heavenly Father loves me and the plan that He has for my life is best for me. That He has other blessings and challenges in line for me and that they are the blessings and challenges that I need to experience.
At least, that is the best way I can describe it right now.
