Sitting in church last Sunday, I actually arrived early enough to watch others as they filtered in, chatted with other members, and generally enjoyed what the time had to offer.
Different people caught my eye. An older lady wore a nice black and white pants outfit, and carried a bright, shiny, yellow purse. One woman was morbidly obese and her belly hung way past her knees, and I thanked God mine wasn't that bad. Although, I felt very badly for her. Another few couples brought in infants, and I wondered why they didn't leave them in the nursery. There was an elderly man who came in wearing wrinkled shorts and sandals with socks. Teenage girls were wearing little of anything, and I wondered how their parents would let them be seen anywhere especially in church looking half naked.
The main person that stood out was an expectant mom. She actually looked like a watermelon was under her shirt. She was tiny everywhere except her little, elongated pregnant belly. My heart broke realizing that procreation was no longer an ability I possessed. I felt a loss. I felt an intense fondness for her, and relived the long gone years of my children's lives in just a matter of seconds knowing what she could expect. With a half smile, and a chuckle, I watched her disappear into the congregation.
Pregnancy was a time I felt the most feminine and most emotionally fit. I don't know what all the hormones in play do during that time, but whatever it was, it was balanced and optimal for me. I LOVED being pregnant.
Pregnant. What a word. My mom didn't like that word, and opted for expectant, which is the term I usually use in conversation. And, Ellen Corby, as Grandma Walton, on TV described it as "being in a family way." Bun in the oven, or whatever word you use to describe it, means life!
Those little bundles of joy are gifts that bring the greatest joy, and the greatest sorrow. It's the hardest job you will ever love, to borrow the slogan the Marines use. And, sometimes as a mother, I did feel like a Drill Sergeant.
Being a Christian, I read the Bible a good bit, and use it as a model for my life. One of my favorite verses is found in my favorite chapter and written by my favorite author, King David. Psalms 113:8-9 says, "He maketh a barren woman to keep house, and be a joyful mother of children! Praise ye the Lord!" What a wonderful job description - wife and mother!
Looking back there were so many squandered moments, tense moments, impatient moments, regretful moments, missed moments, and any other adjective you can think of to describe a not-so-perfect attempt at being a good mom.
I do think I was a good mom. Well, at least I was better than some, but was in no way perfect, and I lament many things. But, I adored being a mom. And, I mourn my hysterectomy.
My children do not need a mom anymore, but a friend. So, I try not to step in when not invited, but be available when they reach out. I let them know they can call me any time about any thing. And, there have been nights when they have all called between 10 pm and 5 am, which resulted in NO sleep. But, I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Empty nest is simply terrible for me, but thankfully, I'm available for my three year old niece. It's really different from my sons, and I do so enjoy the time spent with her.
I can't imagine the pain one must feel being young and unable to have children. But, I do know the pain I feel knowing I could never have another. So, women, if you have the ability to have children, be keenly aware of your condition, and savor every moment, for one day, it will just be a faded memory.
Happy Mother's Day! Celebrate it everyday for it is a triumph for the human condition.
