In Celebration of Someday Mothers

It's Mother's Day, and though some of us (read: me) might argue that everyday is Mother's Day, I'm thrilled to be celebrating my third official Mother's Day as a bonafide harried, bodily-fluid-encrusted, lunatic mom.  Though increasingly more commercialized throughout the years, it *is* pretty nice to have a day of recognition for those of us who work day in and day out, 24/7, at the toughest job we'll ever love. 

Seeing a schmaltzy-but-sweet commercial on TLC today reminded me that I love where I am in my life, but that it wasn't always this happy.  Mother's Day in particular was a rough day during those years when I wanted desperately to be a mother, but just couldn't get biology to agree with me.  What a slap-in-the-face reminder of my monthly struggle and monthly disappointment.  Every day during my infertility battle was hard, especially those days when I would overhear a woman talk about how her husband practically had merely to look in her direction to get her pregnant, or when I had to decline an invitation to a seemingly endless parade of baby showers, because I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it.  But Mother's Day?  A day in which every mother in the world got to boast about their happiness that I couldn't seem to be able to attain?  Forget it. 

I'm one of the lucky ones, as far as infertilty goes.  Our reproductive endocrinologist was able to easily diagnose the source of our problem, and after only one round of IVF, I was miraculously, blissfully, nauseatingly pregnant. It was an enormous financial, physical and emotional price to pay, but one that my husband and I didn't think twice about, and of course, would repeat in a heartbeat. And we did: this past December, one frozen embryo transfer cycle resulted in my current pregnancy, the most delicious icing imaginable on top of an already unbelievably scrumptious cake.

But there are the less fortunate ones: the couples whose infertility is chalked up to "unknown causes" and who just can't manage to get pregnant, despite all of modern medicine's advances. And the ones who seem to be able to get pregnant, but experience recurrent loss. Their syndromes aren't life-threatening, but come with their own special brand of pain and grief. I know many people in these situations, and though they hide their heartbreak from most, I see it and I understand it.

If this all seems too heavy on such a special day, forgive me. I only endeavor to remind mothers of how lucky they are, how special their maternal roles are, and how miraculous this whole procreation thing really is. And I also offer a little advice: please don't ask your childless friends when they're going to have a baby. How do you know they haven't been struggling to do so for years? And if you do know someone struggling with infertility, please be an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on, but please DO NOT offer unsolicited advice in the vein of "If it's meant to be, it will happen," or "Maybe God doesn't want you to be a parent," or "Maybe if you just relax, you'll get pregnant." Believe me, having been there, these are the types of statements that make us want to choke you fertile creatures.

Happy Mother's Day, to mothers and mothers-to-be everywhere. And here's wishing motherhood for every woman who so badly wants it, but hasn't gotten there yet.                

An original DC Metro Moms post.  Diana blogs about surviving pregnancy with a toddler in tow at Caffeinated.  She also chronicled her infertility journey, and subsequent pregnancy, at her first (now-defunct) blog, an untitled, visually unappealing, but still entertaining diary here.