“I’m going to be good today, you won’t believe your eyes. I’m going to be good today, shall I tell you why? It’s Mother’s Day, Mother’s Day, it’s Mother’s Day today!”
Watching my little girl sing her heart out in great earnestness, I chuckled over the lyrics and wondered how long that promise of good behaviour would last. In the school auditorium, I joined the other mums who had come for a little Mother’s Day celebration where we were being serenaded by a stage-full of the cutest three year-olds.
After I had settled down in a seat with a good view, I found my daughter scanning the crowd and trying to find me. When she finally found me in the crowd, she hid her smile behind her hands with a grin that made me complicit to a secret between us. I waved and sent her a few air kisses. As she talked to her friends, as she sang with unbridled gusto, as she meant every word, I watched ever-so-proudly and marvelled at her. I revelled in that moment of celebrating motherhood.
An hour earlier, I had experienced a completely different moment. I had been seated in the dr’s office and just received the results of the blood test after my 8th round of IVF. “Unfortunately, the results are negative”. No tears, no hysterics, just a tiny sigh. How many times have I heard this line? How many times have I felt that my body failed me yet again? It has been such a long and difficult journey that my husband and I have travelled, and many times it has been lonely, overwhelming and very painful.
On Mother’s Day in 2012, the exact same thing had happened to me. It was a negative result on my second round. But on that day, I truly despaired at the thought that I would never be able to be a mother, that perhaps this was a very cruel message from God to me. The emptiness and anguish that many couples feel, I have been overcome by this and it can be so debilitating and destructive. I have no idea how we persevered and decided to try again, but that was the best and most courageous thing we ever did, because that’s how our little one came into our lives.
With the numerous disappointments that I’m running out of fingers to count, I’ve almost become conditioned. There are less tears, less blame, less despair. But as much as I want to shield myself, the hurt is inescapable and it still stings.
As I watched my child on stage, she was balm to my bruised body and battered heart. She reminds me that even in all my failures, she is my miracle and I am lucky enough to celebrate being her mother.
To all the lovely mothers out there, Happy Mother’s Day. We struggle on most days and it’s never easy, but we soldier on bravely every day. To the ladies who are trying to become mothers, your struggle is borne out of love and your bravery is amazing. If you ever need someone to be a friend on your journey, I will hold your hand.
Powered by Facebook Comments