The Life of a Non-Mother on Mother's Day

I really hadn't put much thought into the fact that Mother's day was quickly approaching. For the most part I had pushed it to the back of my mind and that was just where I wanted it to stay. When my weekly Saturday grocery shopping excursion arrived I was suddenly reminded of the Holiday that I have come to HATE! Not because I don't have an awesome mom who I love dearly, but rather that I am not a mom myself.

As I walked through the store, I watched as Dad's held their children over containers of flowers to pick out which bundle they liked or as they gathered ingredients to make mom a delicious breakfast in bed. The pinnacle moment of the excursion came as I was checking out. Thanks to a unknowing cashier, I was harshly reminded that this celebration was certainly not for me...as I was not a mother. 

As she scanned the items on the belt, she nonchalantly asked, "are you a mother". I forced a nice tone of voice out an responded, "no...not yet". She then replied, "oh, well I guess I can't wish you a Happy Mothers Day" as she chuckled! I plastered some half smile across my face as she continued to scan a few more items. I am sure after noticing the discontent written all over my face, she then said, "you know, your not missing out on much...it isn't always all that it is cracked up to be". At that moment I was ready to reach across the register and strangle the girl.

I know she probably didn't mean it in the way that it sounded, or for that matter who she was saying it to either. She didn't know that she was making that statement to a girl who has longed to be a mother for six years now. She didn't know that I will more than likely never be able to get pregnant, to feel my baby kick, or to nurse my own child. At that moment my body was flooded with hurt and sadness.

That evening as I laid down for bed, I was filled with anxiety over what I knew tomorrow would bring. I could hardly allow myself to fall asleep. I have to admit that it crossed my mind that maybe I wouldn't sleep a wink and feel so crummy in the morning that I could skip out on church and all that goes with it on this day dedicated to motherhood. A few hours went by but my mind finally gave up and allowed me to drift in to a sleep.

I woke up the following morning to Dave standing over my bed with a plate of delicious breakfast in this hand. In attempt to make me feel special on this difficult day, he had made me breakfast in bed. We sat in bed enjoying it together, but I could feel that something was missing. There weren't any bright and shining faces filled with laughter and smiles running around my room. I wasn't holding a little child in my arms. I was not a mother and this was not my day. I hadn't made the selfless sacrifice of my time, body, and mind to deserve such a breakfast.

As I finished my breakfast, Dave whispered, "there is more, but you have to get up to see it". As I went into the kitchen I found a beautiful orchid (my favorite), homemade hand soaps, and a letter. At the top it read, "Happy Future Mother's of America Day"! It was a sweet (and funny) gesture, but the pain was still there. I got ready for church, put my "brave" face on and walked out the door feeling emotionally unprepared for what the day might hold.

I made it through the entire sacrament meeting without a tear in my eye! That was until the bishopric asked for all the ladies in the congregation to stand so that the young women could hand out flowers. I stayed seated and chatted with Dave, hoping I would go unnoticed.. Then I felt the hands around my shoulders tugging at me to stand up. Then just like that the flood gates opened and my eye's were instantly filled with tears. I didn't even turn around to see who it was tugging at me,  I just shook my head no. Then I felt someone lean over with arms wrapped around me as they whispered in my ear, "stand up, you are a mother in so many ways to these young women, I know it is hard...but stand up". As I rose to my feet, I tried to regain composure, before I was handed a flower.

Each year I try and tell myself that it is just a silly holiday made up by Hallmark and glorified by those who feel that they need a day dedicated to them for their services to their family. But the truth is that it is a celebration of who we are as women and our divine role given to us by our Heavenly Father. There is no greater calling in life than that of a mother and I know this without even having children of my own. I long for the day when I can fulfill this role to the best of my ability and for the day that I can experience all of the joy's that comes from such a role.

A big HAPPY MOTHERS DAY to all the women who have fought the battle of infertility and have stood triumphantly as mother, you have earned this titled ten fold. And THANKS to my own mom for raising me with a passion to become a mother. I have always understood the selfless sacrifice that such a role requires by watching her example.

Happy Mother's Day!

Beneath It All..

"Pain is bound to happen, being miserable is a choice"

After missing almost a month of church from surgery, I was finally able to attend on a personal level what seems to be the most dreaded Sunday of the year. Mothers Day is always a harsh reminder of what I am lacking despite our efforts. I have been attempting to emotionally prepare myself almost the entire week for the day filled with gratitude and joy. All in dedication to the most blessed role we can hold as women and that I simply cannot claim as my own.

I sat with eyes full of tears as each of the beautiful talks were shared, hoping that my emotional state went unnoticed by everyone, including my husband. I watched with wishful eyes as my sweet husband played with the baby of my dear friend sitting next to me. I smiled as the baby giggled back at Dave and stuck his hand out to reach for Dave's finger. I was smiling on the outside but beneath that smile, every part of me seemed to be breaking down inside.

At the end of sacrament comes what seems to be the most challenging part of it all... the handing out of a beautiful flower to all the women in the congregation. As they ask us to stand while the youth pass them out, it is always as if my knees cannot find the strength. I pull myself up feeling somewhat undeserving of such a privilege to stand under the circumstance. I have not yet had the chance to earn my flower; I have not paid the price to claim the title of mother. A part of me wants the youth to just skip over me so I won't have to stare at a flower I have not earned. And suddenly I am greeted by a hand holding out a flower for me to take. I unwillingly extend my hand to accept the undeserving gift.

Then comes the after sacrament greetings from friends holding their beautiful children as I sheepishly utter out some form of "Happy Mothers Day" with an all but fake smile plastered across my face. I get the feel from some of their unsurity of how to comfort me in my situation and circumstance on a day such as this. All I wanted to do is make a dash for the nearest door out of the conglomerate of mothers so blessed by little ones in their lives.

I have watched as those who were once by my side through much of my journey through infertility have slowly found their own path to motherhood. Leaving me behind to tread the road on my own. There are days the pain is immense and beneath it all I am crumbling into a thousand piece. On the day set aside to honor motherhood, I find myself in such a predicament... beneath it all...falling apart piece by piece. The good news is tomorrow is a new day!

For all the mothers who have been so blessed with the opportunity to be called such, I do wish you a "Happy Mothers Day". I send a big hug full of gratefulness to my own mother for the tremendous sacrifices she has made on my behalf and for her love. I pray that each one of you realizes your infinite worth and that you recognize the blessings of being a mother. There is no greater honor than the role we have been given as women. I hope that one day, I will be able to share in such joy with you. That one day beneath it all will be the pure joy of claiming the title of "mother" instead of the sorrow from what I know I lack.