Today’s Relief Society lesson was about fasting.
We also learned that one of the sisters in our midst had recently discovered she is pregnant.
And we learned that another sister, not in our midst today, had recently discovered that her unborn child’s heartbeat had inexplicably stopped.
We exclaimed in delight and gasped in sympathy. And we moved on.
The teacher spoke to us of learning mastery and awareness of our bodies. Of responding to hunger with prayer and gratitude rather than food. Of a very physical gospel principle that promises deep spiritual rewards. We read in Isaiah of how, if we fast properly, the Lord will “make fat [our] bones” and how we shall “be like a watered garden.”
And I couldn’t help but think we weren’t talking about fasting at all, but about pregnancy and motherhood.
I have never been more aware of, or less in control of, my body than I am right now. I have never felt more gratitude or offered more spontaneous prayers than I have in the last few months, especially when faced with the hunger pangs and occasional discomfort of pregnancy. I have never understood how my physical condition could have such a deep impact on my spirituality. My bones are growing fat. I am like a watered garden, blossoming and thriving and bearing fruit. That is the Lord’s doing.
And as I pondered these things from my seat near the back of the room, I suddenly felt a familiar but almost forgotten ache.
I remembered for the first time since September EXACTLY what it felt like to long for a baby and have little hope of ever conceiving. I felt the sting of hearing endless birth announcements and pregnancy announcements and the shame at my own jealousy and bitterness. I felt the heartbreak and the disappointment and the sheer loneliness of it all. I honestly did not think I would ever feel those things again. But I wanted to and I’m glad I did.
Because I know Sister S cannot have children of her own. And I know Sister M has suffered the loss of a miscarriage and the death of a full term baby. And I know Sister H is long past child-bearing years and has never been married, and so will likely never be a mother. And I know, at least in part, how they must feel when they see Sister A rock her brand new son to the rhythm of “How Firm a Foundation.” I am learning compassion and empathy and I yearn to mourn with these women and comfort them when they stand in need of comfort.
I’m not yet bold enough to do much but wordlessly offer them my friendship and a shy smile, but it’s a start.
Because I know what it is like to be hungry.
I’m just one of the lucky ones who also knows what it is like to be filled.
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You should be on twitter. I told people about this beautiful piece of svithery, but they're doing all their talking about it there….
This is beautiful. I'm on the other side of it: had kids from the getgo, and consequently am behind in career, providing for my family, etc.
I'm also terribly insecure, so I get jealous when I see the men in the ward who seem to work 9-5 and still have enough money for everything and all the time they need for callings, family, and such. Whereas I work 3 jobs, never see my five kids, and still can't seem to make ends meet.
I don't know if that's a fair comparison, but it's what I thought of when I read your wonderful post.
Whenever I get feeling bad about it, my unmarried brothers remind me that they'd swap their careers and financial security for my family any day. Since I can't say the opposite, I guess I should just be thankful.
Just chiming in to say this was a wonderful post.
beautiful words. truth.
Th.: I'm flattered. And tempted to join twitter just to see what's being said…only I have no idea how twitter works and would probably never use it again. Except maybe to follow Kanye West, because that man's tweets are hysterical.
Adam: I do think the comparison is fair. It's about wishing we could fill those traditional gender roles and not quite being able to (yet). And about only seeing the positive aspects of others' lives that we wish we could have, while ignoring all the struggles they might face because of those circumstances we so desire. Thanks for sharing. And yes, you are very blessed. 🙂
Moriah and Cat: Thank you.
Amen.
My heart is full. So thankful to be your mother.
So glad that you get to experience motherhood. It is truly a blessing.