Why I Love / Hate Mother's Day
It's been three days since Mother's Day and I guess it's now safe to come out of the shell that I've been hiding in since last week.
Now first of all, don't get me wrong. I appreciate Mother's Day. It's a wonderful opportunity to celebrate the miracle that mothers are. It doesn't ever matter how old you get. A mother is always going to be a mother to you.
However, if you've been a regular reader of my blog, you'd know that The Memet and I still haven't been blessed with a baby. Yup, that's what this is all about. That little bundle of joy that we've been waiting for - for more than 6 years now.
For the first two years, that monthly thing that females go through? It was the most difficult thing for me to deal with. Every single month. It got so bad that I'd be in tears every month. What added insult to injury was all the people who were pestering me, asking me if I was pregnant yet.
"Oh, aren't you pregnant yet?"
"Hang in there dear, it'll come."
"Have you gone to a gynecologist yet?"
Plus, let's not forget all the "Try this", "Try that".
I know all those people meant well. But if you were in my shoes, all the questions, all the suggestions, no matter how carefully worded, they all sounded insulting.
After the 2nd year, it started getting easier. I learned to accept that it wasn't time yet, and I eventually gave it all up to God. But even with that acceptance, I still get this stab of pain every time I am faced with the reality that I'm not getting any younger. There are times when I swear I can actually hear my reproductive system ticking like a clock counting down the hours.
Last week was one of the worst slaps that I've ever taken. No, nobody slapped me. Well, reality did. Life did.
I turned 33 this year. The Memet is a few years older than me. Life's reality came crashing down in vivid clarity. I was suddenly doing the math, thinking if, say I was to give birth at 35 (35!!!), I'd be 55 by the time my kid turned 20 years old! That and so many other realities just swiftly tumbled into my head, one after the other, not giving me any chance to just sit back and contemplate.
There are days when I stop, breathe, and tell myself that I'm lucky I'm already married (to the love of my life, no less). There are others out there who are my age who are so busy with life that getting married (much less having kids) is nowhere on their list of priorities.
But that mindset didn't work for me last week. I withdrew and I locked myself up inside my head. When Mother's Day came around, I was as bitter as I've ever been. I remember scheduling a Mother's Day greeting on my FB Page, but I didn't greet anyone in particular. Well, I greeted my mom, my mother in law, and my sister in law. And a few friends - I think. But generally, I stayed mum.
It didn't help that The Memet was away on an out of town trip for a few days last week. His hug is one of the few things that can help draw me out of my depressed state. So God was my only solace, and for a few minutes during the last few days, I did nothing but talk to Him and weep.
Today, I'm back to my usual chipper self. Still not pregnant, but I have faith it'll come soon. I still don't know what advice to give if anyone in the same situation asks how I deal with the pain, the depression, because I know how real the pain is, and I understand how unique each journey is.
All I really do is pray and trust God. And confide in my husband. There are days (like last week) when I seem to slip from my faith and I give marriage a beady eye, but I pray nonetheless and God is quick to restore my faith.
So with that, I send out a digital HUG to all of my sisters out there who are going through something similar. My words might not have brought much hope or shed much light, but know that my heart goes out to all of you. Just keep the faith and stay strong.