Image of Bella leading worship
It has been four years since I last wrote a blog post about my experience with infertility and Mother’s Day….
It has also been four years since I have been to a church on Mother’s Day. Tomorrow will be my first Mother’s Day in a church since.
As I reread that previous blogpost, I can see how much I have changed and grown since it was written… and I can also feel those familiar pangs of grief and sorrow, being held together with tape manufactured from my own rose colored glasses. I desperately wanted to be ok that year. I wanted to honor the woman who raised me and the woman who raised my husband. I wanted to make room for all of the complexities and nuances I was feeling. That post was written out of sheer hope and a desire to feel that warmth and closeness that true family brings.
I can tell you that undoubtedly none of that happened.
We went to church that following day, where the mothers were asked to stand and be recognized during the beginning of service. I felt small, pained, but shoved those feelings deep down. I sat and listened to a pastor talk about how great men are, and how they can be the best men of God ever. I didn’t mind the omission of focusing on mothers, but it seemed a strangely tone deaf sermon for the day and had no ties to a sermon series. In the moment it felt like the purpose was to discourage mothers from thinking their positions might be important, or to discourage them from thinking that they could possibly have more important roles then the fathers of the house. (Spoiler alert, this was one of a few red flags that ultimately led to me leaving that church and finding a new church home). On the way out of church, someone offered me (well put into my hands) a Mother’s Day gift that they were handing out to all the mothers. I remember tilting my head and awkwardly saying “Oh! Uhm, sorry…. I’m not a mother.” Only to have the person quickly take the gift back and say “bye then!”
What I failed to realize, even after trying so hard…. Is that healing is not linear. I would cry myself to sleep that night, after writing some more poetry and trying to soothe my emotional wounds. I would tell myself for the next few weeks that I was supposed to be better. Supposed to be healing. Supposed to be stronger and less broken.
What I failed to realize, even after trying so hard…. Is that healing is not linear.
-Bella L.
The past 4 years have been a long and winding road within my own journeys to heal in this area mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. The past 4 years have also been filled with me learning how to overall have healthier interpersonal relationships, including the relationships I have with my family of origin, and purposefully learning about the relationship dynamics between my extended family and the various generational matriarchs of the family.
I’ve also been intentional about learning about attachment theory & attachment styles; reading therapist recommended books like The Body Keeps Score , Adult Children Of Emotionally Immature Parents, Recovering From Emotionally Immature Parents; and reading other books like Securely Attached, Every Bitter Thing Is Sweet, and The Body Is Not An Apology. I’ve been intentional about telling God about my struggle- and left myself space to ponder what my faith means to this journey and what this journey means for my faith.
I’ve also spent a lot of time trying to research more about my PCOS, Fibroids, and other women’s health issues that can have an impact on my infertility. I’ve jumped on better eating plans, continued to lose weight despite PCOS working against me, and been in and out of doctors offices….. But as I’ve said before- healing is not linear. Each of those paths has had significant ups and downs, setbacks, and what has felt like leaps of progress.
I am not healed, I am not pregnant, I am not a completely fortified and indestructible emotional / mental / spiritual fortress of completely divine feminine energy. I still have a hard time working with small kids, I still ugly cry at the beginning of the Disney movie “UP”, I still have moments where I wonder if God will ever see me and bless me with my hearts desire. I still often wonder if I will ever hear the words “Happy Mother’s Day” from a little one who takes up too much room in my bed and draws with crayon all over my walls. I am flawed, I am blemished, my body does not work in the conventional way it is supposed too…
But this year, I am feeling more certain in where I am in my infertility journey. I have an idea of where I am, where I want to go, where I came from, and what I want to avoid. My rose colored glasses have long been thrown out the window. My faith has grown into one that can now honor the grittiness of my own story, the unpleasant parts without a filter.
I’m in a place where I can acknowledge that dealing with infertility and all of my womens health related issues has been tough. I can also confidently say that it’s nothing to be ashamed of and it’s a journey I am not alone in walking. I am not ‘better’, I am still very much messy in this area of my life; yet while I still have a lot of healing work to do….. Sunday is marking some progress.
This Sunday will be the first time in 4 years that I am going to be in a church on a Mother’s Day. And I’m genuinely feeling ok about it.
3 years ago, I did not attend church. I grieved. The past two years I have done something else to distract myself from the day, and did whatever necessary to care for myself and whatever emotions might arise throughout the day. This is the first year that I’ve felt like “hey, I might be ok. I might not fall apart. I think I can do this.” I will actually be leading worship this Mother’s Day- which to me is a huge step in this journey, following what feels like such personal but important progress in my life.
I know that Mother’s Day will still pull at my heart a bit. Just like so many other people, I don’t know when that will stop. Grief, just like healing, is not linear- and I am in a place where I will no longer allow it’s many shapes and forms to be lightly dismissed by myself or others…. But I don’t feel haunted or hunted by my grief this year. It’s like it’s very clearly in the room, but it’s merely there, nothing more. Will I fall apart after service? I don’t think so. I guess I will find out. I feel like the progress is in the not knowing; and yet feeling like I can even try.
“I feel like the progress is in the not knowing; and yet feeling like I can even try.”
-Bella L.
Mother’s Day holds a host of uncomfortable, difficult, and frustrating emotions for so many. If that is you, my hope is that you can be exactly where you need to be- with exactly who you need to be with- to be able to progress and process your own journey of healing and growing healthy and impactful relationships. Be gentle with yourself. If that means taking a step away from places or activities that make your journey more difficult- step away. Take care of yourself.
If that is not you, I would just encourage you to be mindful of what others may be experiencing or going through tomorrow. It could be the loss of a mother or mother figure, or the loss of a child. It could be infertility, or a strained/toxic maternal relationship. Make space for those people in your life, especially if you know who they are. You can still celebrate and be mindful of others.
I hope that if you find yourself staying home from church tomorrow that you can find some hope or solace in knowing that without a doubt- I understand. There are others that have walked the hard path before you, and I for one, am just a single message away.
I’ll end with this: “I pray that the Lord will bless and protect you, and that he will show you mercy and kindness. May the Lord be good to you and give you peace.”
Numbers 6:24-26 CEV
https://bible.com/bible/392/num.6.24-26.CEV
La Bella Journeys: 