On Mother's Day and Feeling Like a Bean

As I try to process through my thoughts of another Mother's Day, I find myself feeling like a bean.

Speaking of beans, here we are at "The Bean" in Chicago several years ago. This post is about the food kind of bean, though, not the sculpture kind. Carry on.

Speaking of beans, here we are at "The Bean" in Chicago several years ago. This post is about the food kind of bean, though, not the sculpture kind. Carry on.

If infertility is a pressure cooker (and it is), than we are the beans inside. Before being tossed in, we were happily fulfilling various purposes in life. All of a sudden, we were dumped in a pot, covered with layers of emotions, doused with decisions, and sprinkled with bills. As if that wasn't enough, a lid of isolation was clamped on top and the heat was turned on. For years, we cooked in the intense heat, hardly able to focus on anything else. Eventually, the temperature dropped and many of the emotions drained away. Now, here we are: cooked beans. Good for something? I'm sure. In between phases? Yes. Changed? Absolutely. Destined for a delicious recipe? Hopefully. 

Whew. That bean analogy was a strange ride. Thanks for reading along. 

What I am trying to say is that I didn't know how to feel this Mother's Day. No tears were necessary, but we did skip church. Somehow, I wasn't ready to receive questions or attention and also wasn't ready to jump into normal Mother's Day conversations. My best plan was just to avoid social media and aim for a normal day.

In some ways, my strategy worked. I was not overwhelmed with "blessed to be a mom" posts [which are totally fine, by the way; you moms have a tough job and deserve the recognition and joy of Mother's Day]. I wasn't watching the cute kids in church pondering how life could be different. I didn't have to come up with any answers to questions [I really do appreciate the questions, so thanks for asking, friends]. The "Mother's Day sucks. Love ya. :)" text from an understanding infertility comrade even provided a chuckle. 

On the other hand, this Mother's Day still managed to make me feel like a cooked bean. I am not what I was before infertility: a woman expecting to be a mother. I am not what I was during the intense infertility season: an emotional wreck of a wanna-be-mother. I am something different: an uncertain woman who expected to be a mother and now expects...not to know what to expect. This bean needs a recipe.