In my life it is the time of babies. A sweeping glance over my Facebook feed will show you that. Literally one in three posts is about the children or grandchildren of friends. It is fun and full of joy and empathy--truly glorious. The posts are loud and bright, so much so that the contrasting non-posts of other friends is so quiet I almost miss it--but not quite.
As much as my heart fills with joy at the happiness of my friends with baby-filled homes, it breaks deeply for those lovely and dear friends who have not been blessed with that opportunity in spite of their best efforts and most sincere prayers. Some blog about their experiences, but it is a private, painful thing, and I think many of these blog to put an end to all of the uninvited and personal questions about their family planning. Others stay silent, and their own posts contain other happy things in their life. I cannot imagine how it must feel to struggle with infertility in the time of babies...but I can guess.
After my first pregnancy ended so abruptly I was bitter. I would never wish such a tragedy on anyone, but as I scrolled through a never ending list of pictures of pregnant woman cradling their beautifully swollen bellies, and the stunningly gorgeous shots of my friends' infants the perceived injustice of it all stung.
Soon enough, I was posting beautiful pictures of my own, and overjoyed with my blessings. It was suddenly so easy to live happy thoughts. But sometimes I imagine what it might have been like to be crushed and yearning for a child every day for months and years, possibly without end while daily viewing the happiness of others who had been blessed with the desire of my heart. Then my imaginings are interrupted by my rambunctious son, who is incredible and the perfect embodiment of my own prayers and wishes, and I breath a guilty sigh of relief that I have only had a small, theoretical glimpse into that disappointment.
My point is of course not that the only value in being a woman is bearing children, or that it is impossible to be happy without them. My aforementioned friends are evidence that both of these ideas are completely false. Neither is my point that those of us who have been blessed with growing families should stop posting so much joy, as if we are rubbing it in. My point is that we mothers shouldn't let our joy and comraderie leave others forgotten.
I have noticed a division in church and our society as a whole between the child-blessed and the childless. How many of you with children regularly spend time with childless women from your church? Based on my experience, not too many.
I have no desire to shame anyone, but I do urge you to change. Often I have heard justifications like these:
"We don't have that much in common," "I'm just in a different stage of life right now," "It's much easier to coordinate with women who have children the same age as mine, and I am terribly busy." These excuses make sense, but they do not justify excluding a childless woman. Linda K. Burton, the General Relief Society President of my church offered the following advice: "First observe, then serve." (You can read her entire address here: https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2012/10/first-observe-then-serve?lang=eng). This principle is simple, and powerful. If we each make it a priority to take notice of others around us, including those not currently part of our circles, and then act on those observations we might find that we can provide comfort and friendship to those suffering from infertility in the time of babies. Every single one of us is important, and the number of children we have does not increase or decrease our value and shouldn't make us more or less relevant to each other. We are all women, we should reach out and care for each other-- extending kindness and friendship to all.
No comments:
Post a Comment