For the Childless Woman on Mother's Day

I will not be attending church this Sunday, because it’s Mother’s Day, and I choose not to be present at that inevitable moment when all the mothers of the congregation are recognized. I have nothing against mothers; this is about my life. At many churches, there comes a point in the service where the pastor says, “I’d like all you mothers to stand” and everyone applauds as women of all ages rise and smile. In some congregations, prizes are given for those with the most children, those who are oldest, those who are the most recent mothers, and so forth. I don’t think we do anything like this at my church, but there is always the Mother’s Day Brunch after the service, and during the meal kids from the youth group scatter throughout the crowd and hand a carnation to every woman. At that point I must decide whether to be pissy about it and refuse to take the flower, or to be gracious and carry around the bloom while feeling completely fraudulent in doing so.

 

For this reason, I don’t attend church on Mother’s Day. I was able to stand up one year, long ago, in another church, the one and only time I was pregnant. But I lost that baby just a couple of weeks later. Today I am past the age of childbearing, and I am happy with my life. I accept it as a gift from God, and I do practice gratitude and recognize the many graces of my days. But I would have preferred motherhood, and so this single boycotted day of the year is my simple protest against the imperfection of life.

 

Enough of my story. This article is for you, the woman who is childless. I have decided what I would say if I were the pastor on Mother’s Day. I would ask the mothers to stand, because they deserve applause, by all means. But after they were seated, I would ask all those women to stand who were not mothers. And I would say something like this:

 

Some of you are not mothers by choice. You have determined what the wisest course is for you personally. Maybe the reasons are medical. Or maybe they have to do with the demands of your personal mission—whether that’s a career to which you are called or a ministry that would be hard on a family.

 

Some of you are not mothers simply because your life took a certain path that did not include motherhood. You have done what seemed right, made the decisions that were consistent with who you are and what you love. Maybe you never married or arrived at a situation that you considered healthy for the nurturing of children. Maybe major life events removed you from the motherhood track.

 

Some of you are not mothers because of severe damage in your life or in the life of your family. That damage could be abuse, debilitating depression, addiction, or other illness, or a condition of soul that has required most of your time and energy for the sake of healing and restoration. All of this got in the way of what to most people is an ordinary life that includes partnership and childrearing.

 

Some of you are not mothers despite every effort you could make. You have tried for months or years to become pregnant or to finalize an adoption, and yet those plans have been thwarted at every turn, through no fault of your own. The only people who could possibly understand how desperate and abandoned you feel are those who have experienced this situation themselves.

 

Whatever your reason for being childless, please know this: you are indeed a source of life to the world. You possess the ability to nurture others, and if you free yourself to do so, you will be amazed at how fertile you actually are.

 

There is no substitute for physical motherhood. And for one who longs to have children in her house, nothing else will do. Don’t ever deny the grief of that. Don’t minimize this burden of emptiness. Don’t repress your desire to give birth. That very desire is a unique and particular energy of womanhood, for those who have children and those who have not.

 

At a personal retreat I made more than a year ago, I was surprised to receive an image of myself as pregnant with God. Wasn’t that privilege reserved for Mary, the mother of Jesus? But no, the Incarnation changed everything. Divine life merged with human life, and now every person has the ability to birth God, to bring the divine to life in her life.

Do you understand that you are always pregnant? That constantly life is churning and growing within you? Your specific character, history, situation, and giftedness form God in a way unlike any other expression or manifestation. God waits to reside in the womb that is your life. Holy love and grace ripen inside you and, when the time is right, will be born and flourish in this lonely, needy world.

 

This is spiritual talk, I know, and it provides little comfort when your physical body aches to grow a child. If you are in the center of such desolation, my words probably won’t touch you at all. But read them anyway. And then read them again. There’s a principle here that each of us must learn sooner or later. We are not defined by, or confined to, the obvious physical situation. As we live our visible lives, we exist in our eternal lives, and the characteristics of the eternal will ultimately overwhelm and transform the visible.

 

So, as best you can this Mother’s Day, allow your desire for giving life to beat wildly and without shame. When words come to the surface—words of pain, anxiety, anger, anticipation, longing, joy—share them somehow, with someone. If you stay silent, the world will suffer for it. If you hide your life because it wasn’t the one you’d hoped for, the human family will miss you, and grieve.

 

Copyright 2009 Vinita Hampton Wright

Comments

[Mike]

Vinita--

Thank you for you words today. They have certainly brought new life to me today!

Mike Hayes

[Nedra]

Hi, I'm Nedra and I'm also childless (so far) after almost 12 years of marriage. I really appreciate your article. Every year about this time I want to run. I usually end up visiting other congregations, where I can be a semi-stranger, and where when folks wish me a happy mother's day, I don't get offended because I know they don't know that I'm not a mother. May God bless you in all you do. Thank you again for writing this.

[Michele]

Thank you so much for this, Vinita. I really needed it this weekend. Hugs from Minneapolis.

[Elisabeth]

I am a mother, and I do applaud your beautiful words. My own mother ended up being a mother, but suffered six miscarriages in her life (and nearly lost me - and her life - when I was born very prematurely, at home to boot.)

Don't forget the heartbreak of women who are mothers and who have lost a child or even several children. Mother's Day must be a real ordeal for them too.

I hope to visit again in the future

[Dean]

Vinita, I shared your words with our church community this weekend. It hit the hearts of many and I am going to pass them along to several whom I know were not there (on purpose) that morning. Thank you for your honesty and authenticity and for speaking to the hearts of so many who feel silence from their church communities.

[dianne]

Thank you for your beautiful words. I love the image of being pregnant with life, and for love and grace to emerge from my life in God's timing. I've beaten myself up for years because I'm not in the "mom" camp but neither can I honestly play the infertility card. We just married late and never did enough to make it happen I guess. Somehow I've allowed that to define me as less than. So just to read your words to all women, regardless of reason or circumstance, was a gift today. Blessings back to you.

[DB]

For those who may need support before and after Mother's Day, please visit our site.. www.ChildlessNotbyChoice.com
Where you ARE understood and not alone!

[Daisy]

Thank you for expressing this. Thank you for giving words to those of us who speak in places where we can use this and use the right words. Thank you for affirming that while the world we live in may seem to affirm mothers and motherhood, that women without children have life and lots of it to give.

I too have skipped church on Mother's Day. Unable to stand while all others in my age and peer group did, and not quite sure if I should take the flower or chocolate offered after the service - knowing I was not a real mom.

After nineteen years of marriage, God laughed and smiled.. we gave birth to a beautiful daughter.

And, while I don't skip church (intentionally) on Mother's Day, I cannot forget the feelings. I thank you for expressing them, and for helping those who have never walked in these shoes understand just a little