Skip to main content

Empty Arms on Mother's Day--A Letter

To the woman walking through infertility:

     I see you. You are not forgotten on this day. I know what today can bring. I know what it feels like to look at the flowers for the mothers at church and do your best to hide the tears in your eyes, knowing there isn't one for you. I know your heart aches. I know your pride hurts. I know that what you go through every 28 days is a real and powerful grief. I know you mourn what could have been. I know you should probably buy stock in pregnancy tests. I know you're angry. I know you might secretly want to punch women in the baby section at Target. I know EVERYBODY is pregnant in your city, and the women who aren't pregnant already have perfect, bouncing babies. They probably have five. Probably quintuplets. I know you've been asked if you and your husband want kids. I know someone you've revealed your struggle to has told you how to fix the problem by relaxing and taking your temperature and trying harder and not trying at all and adopting a baby so you can get pregnant!

     Thankfully, I also know this-when you are blessed with a child, you will be a better mother for the work God is doing in you during this season. You will take (way) too many pictures. You will cherish every moment. You'll be told you hold your baby too much, but you won't mind having your hands full because you'll remember the time you spent with your arms empty.

     Know that I am praying for your heart today. I am praying you will take all the hurt and anger and grief and resentment to the Lord. You have to be honest, or it will eat you up inside. I hope you can continue to trust His timing even when it seems impossible. Trust He is working all things together for your good. I pray you don't lose hope when it looks hopeless. I pray God brings mighty women around you to hold you up when you grow weary. I'm asking God to strengthen your marriage- I pray you draw closer together, taking care not to let the enemy rip you apart. And I pray today you experience unexpected joy and the peace that passes all understanding in Christ Jesus. You matter. You are enough. You are loved.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

On Victory, OCD, and Birdsong: An Anniversary

Free indeed. That was my Facebook status five years ago today.
I am pretty open about many of my struggles, my acronyms; my writing here bears witness to that. I have written about the mortification that accompanies having ADHD, especially as an adult. I've written about the crippling rounds against chronic depression where rising from bed seemed a Herculean task I couldn't face. I've written about much, hoping perhaps to be better understood and to make others feel less alone in these alienating wars.
I've spilled much ink on OCD as well. I call that the oldest voice in my head. It began as far back as I can remember. It remains with me still. Of all the enemies, it is perhaps the most complicated, the most misunderstood by others. Having battled it all my life, I find it is perhaps the most insidious, affecting me in far greater ways than I sometimes realize. On my best day, it is there. On my worst day, it nearly incapacitates me. I am out of the game.
I am one of t…

On Motherhood and Grace and Doughnuts for Dinner

It's been a banner week for me as a mom. I've probably made 15,485 mistakes, conservatively.  I was doing pretty well today until the sun went down (you know, around noon, because I live in Evansville). I had a headache from the seventh circle of Hell, and I was driving up Green River Road with a screaming banshee in the back seat. Because I have a Bachelor's degree in Early Childhood Education, I employed the tried-and-true technique of yelling, "STOP SCREAMING!" at my sweet baby. Powerful stuff. Very effective. I was fairly flustered by the time I got to Schnucks. I wanted to get a couple things for dinner tomorrow but mostly needed ice for my raging Coke Zero habit.  Matt is out of town till tomorrow evening, so I knew he couldn't bail me out. After embarrassing myself a little in the parking lot - how was I to know all three cars around me were occupied? -  I carried Jack in with no car seat and no cart cover. I grabbed a cart wipe, but I decided I …