Simply not the best day ever. Meg did let me know they'd gotten my infectious disease screening - that was the highlight today. Downhill FAST from there. I was reminded once again today, at school, that "when I have children of my own," I'll understand. Really? What is the magical thing that happens after I have these children. And, if I don't have children - not for lack of trying - am I doomed to ignorance for the rest of my life? How is it that I am unqualified to perform a myriad of tasks like attending games and recitals because I'm not a mother? Why is it that, despite having over 15 years of time working with children, getting them set on schedules, potty training other people's babies, helping them learn to read, feeding them, cleaning up kid barf, and finding ways to make their lives more enriched, I am unqualified to have opinions related to children? How, exactly, does that work?
If the inverse is true, does that mean that all people with children DO know these coveted secrets of the universe? Clearly not, point in case, ever been to Walmart? These enlightened people, qualified only by right of childbirth, can be seen and heard all over the store cursing, abusing, and putting down their offspring. Is that the knowledge that I'll gain from becoming a mother? Hope not.
What I want to say - but never do, because I'd cry my eyeballs out - is that I may not have children, but if I did I'd do it better than you! My children, our children, would be treasured, loved, protected, encouraged, guided, shielded, praised, challenged, taught, tended, nurtured, snuggled, and told every single day of their lives that they were wanted so much that their dad and I went to the ends of the earth to find a way to have them become part of our lives. My children, our children, would never question this truth. These children that we're all trying desperately to concieve, bring home, raise, and send out into the world to make it better will always be looked at by parents who have thanksgiving and gratitude in their hearts for whatever or whoever helped them find their children. Our children - whether living now, miscarried and remembered, 8 celled, or only a twinkle in an eye - are wanted beyond any measure that is understood by most parents. We know what it is like to love and yearn for people who have yet to exist, are waiting to be introduced, or have been a part of our lives for the shortest of times. I have to think that in some way this qualifies us to "know" the secrets of parents - at least on some level.
But, since I'm not a mother, what do I know? What's happened to Bernadette and Duane is heartbreaking. Lucylu, same thoughts go out to you - you were "in" and then this loss. I feel your pain and your waivering faith that one day, somehow, you'll be parents. If you read this guys, you're all in my prayers.