Mother’s Day seems cruel this year. Not that my own children and husband aren’t being good to me, they are. I got lovely handmade gifts from both boys, and a thoughtful gift from J. That isn’t the problem. The problem is all the tales I hear from wonderful people I know who want to be parents. And can’t. Perhaps there are infertility problems. Perhaps they can get pregnant but have difficulties carrying a healthy baby to term. Perhaps they want to adopt, and legal or other troubles crop up. Whatever the reason, Mother’s Day seems a cruel reminder of what they don’t have.
Becoming or not becoming a mother is a decision all women face. Sometimes these decisions are conscious… yes I will have a baby or no I don’t want to have a baby. Those are the easy decisions. The difficult decisions happen when desire and reality don’t meet. The reproductive years are so emotionally challenging. Every month is dictated by the ebb and flow of…well… the flow.
Motherhood is so much more than changing diapers, making lunch, and shlepping kids around. It starts much earlier than all that. It starts before the first maternity pants are purchased. It starts before even the first pregnancy test. It starts with a desire in our hearts to become mothers. And for the lucky, it works out. It’s the unlucky that I weep for today.