Well, I guess my blog traffic is up. We can tell by the vast numbers of comments that are dropped in lately. Things like “wissh all poeple were this smart” and “thanks for greate arrtucle!!!” that are meant to flatter me into leaving up the link to their enlarged penis casino vitamin sites. Yay. I’m popular enough again to have spamrider coattails! My, how the hallmarks of success have changed.
Contrary to the broader consensus of opinion, i do have a mother and was not hatched. I should spend some time cranking out a sort of paean to her today, because the industry of corporatised peer pressure has declared it so. But I think instead I’ll honour her by being the person she taught me to be. I will be free-thinking, self-directed and analytically minded. I’ll write another post in general tribute to her (to add to the minipile already on this site) on a day when it stands out from the crowd. Because Mother’s Day for me means something different.
You know that scene in Empire where Luke goes into the spooky tree on Dagobah and lightsabres Vader’s head off only to have the mask vanish, revealing Luke’s own face with smoke curling out of his dead eyesocket? That’s Mother’s Day for me. A trip into the roots of my greatest fear and deepest darkness.
First off, let me be clear. 99.9% of my waking time is filled with contentment AND genuine happiness about my life situation. I have no doubt that I am who God wants me to be and doing exactly what God wants me to be doing. But this day, when everyone goes on about the wonder that is motherhood and how much they love their mothers, adore their children and thier station in life as the bearers and rearers of those children…this is the day I remember starkly my own barrenness, my own call to childlessness.
Yep. Childlessness IS a call. For me it’s my Ninevah, and i spent a decade of grief and expense trying to avoid the boat. I had pieces cut out of me, chemicals added back into me and hot lasers slicing my insides apart. Many times. I talked to people who were called to adopt. But then it became clear in the way such things become clear that my path right now–our path as a couple–is not one that leads through the place of having children.
Even though I’m openly sharing the highlight reel of this painful, rocky experience, trust me that 500 (even 500,000) words are not enough to convey the intensity of crafting of personhood that this journey entailed.
Yes, I AM truly, wonderfully happy without human children. So why the dislike for Mother’s Day? Because there are always the folks who throw up that Bible verse about how a quiverful of children is a blessing…always assuming that the converse is true. That without a few fletched arrows a couple is cursed. And there’s always that tree, where I am reminded of my greatest battle, my own mortality and the seeming futility of the fertility struggle. I loke being able to move on and Mother’s Day represents a nostalgia for the Valley Of the Shadow that I would rather not indulge.