My emotions took their toll yesterday and I surrendered to the tears…in the shower. (I have my pride and stalwart…fine, I was proud.) So proud, in fact that it was time for a gentle humbling. Last night, after the kids went to bed, I began reading the last few posts to James. He listened attentively, and was so compassionate that I began to weep. (Please don’t think that our marriage and our relationship is perfect. It’s not. We’re perfect for each other, but we are definitely human beings who prefer our own way. Selflessness is a learned discipline…and we are both slow learners sometimes. I just made a commitment to NOT air our differences online unless I have his permission, I am pointing out my fault and his, and it’s at least a few days since the incident so that I have time to cool down. Life is simply too short to alienate and hurt the one who has vowed to be the closest one to you.)
So, there I was weeping and an unattractive mess. I apologized through short breaths, but then explained. “My uterus held our babies. My sweet little Sammy and Lilly were both inside there. Now it’s going to be removed. I am losing the part of me that held them!”
He tenderly and thoughtfully responded, “You have a poem that I wrote about Sammy, and you have dreams that were given to you about both of them. Your blog posts and writings are preserved so that you can remember them. Your uterus is a tool given by God, a temporary, and [he referred to this Fall’s international project] a “dedicated” place where He created and knit together the children within your womb. It wasn’t designed by Him to be their permanent home. Your love still holds them even if your womb is gone. Think about our wedding for a moment. We have the pictures, and the clothes, and the memories of that day to serve as a reminder to us. We both wear the rings as an everyday reminder. Your uterus was a temporary reminder of the temporary place that our babies were created in. It doesn’t change what happened there, it doesn’t change your “motherhood” or your heart if it’s gone. Right now, the “reminder” of the babies is ceasing to function properly. It’s hindering your health and holding you back. It’s time to remove the broken reminder.”
I sniffled and said, “Kind of like if we had saved a slice of cake from our wedding but discovered that it was old and moldy?”
He grinned, “Exactly, baby! Eating it would be silly, keeping it would be ridiculous. It would be time to discard the reminder, but it wouldn’t change the reality that we are married. Just because the reminder is gone, or getting “aged” and past its prime, it doesn’t mean that you stop loving our kids or having your “Mother Heart”. You are still mom to 8 of our kids.”
I smirked and added, “And besides, my cake ‘is old and moldy’, as they say in ‘Encino Man'” .
We laughed hard through the tears, he held me, and I decided that it’s time to let go of my rundown reminder and embrace my reality.
I included the clip from “Encino Man” below, in case you need a chuckle today as well.
Feel free to contact me if you wish for sympathy, empathy, laughter and/or prayer.