Today is Mother’s Day. It’s not a holiday I’m all that into anyway (because of its capitalistic nature; I usually try to make my mom mix CDs to celebrate her role in my life instead of participating in the market/making big corporations even more rich), but this year it’s obviously sad. The seemingly harmless facebook statuses and calls for celebration are painful reminders that Emmett isn’t with us, that we’re not on the verge of holding our very.much.alive child in our arms. It’s difficult not to feel resentment towards women who are honored today for doing what I so desperately want to do.
Kim, at Spotted Elephant, wrote about her response to Mother’s Day here, and she did so with humor and honesty. If you haven’t experienced infertility or child loss, take a moment to read her post. It will help you understand the women in your life who have.
What I’ve learned (from Emmett, from this year, from lots of reading, from Kim and women like her) is that there are SO MANY women for whom the path to motherhood has been painful: filled with loss, and emptiness, and the ever.elusive promise of a child to parent. So I’ve decided to approach this day with these women in mind. I’ve written to a couple of them personally, but I want to say here, to women who are reading this and who have fought to become mothers, that in celebrating this day, I celebrate you. I am mindful of the many forms of resistance life has to offer those pursuing motherhood, and my heart is with any of you who have faced any of these forms. I feel that we are a sisterhood of mothers – that we are mothers – and I am proud to be in your brave and graceful company. Thank you for the example you set and the wisdom you offer out of your sadness. I wish you all peace and a clear path towards whatever version of motherhood is to be yours.