I always kind of assumed I would be a mother.  When I stop to consider that, how presumptuous of me.  But there it is.  I just assumed, on some level, that I would have children.  So, when my husband and I began trying to get pregnant, it was a surprise when nothing happened.  For two years.  There were tests for him and tests for me, all of which showed things as fine.  But they didn’t feel fine, and I was confused.


Looking back, I think I simply wasn’t ready to step into the role of mother.  And I know this might sound silly to some; it might even be offensive.  For couples who struggle to conceive, it might sound trite to say simply I wasn’t ready.  But, in our case, I believe it to be true.


Long story short, I turned to an acupuncturist.  Her name was Beth, and she will forever hold a special place in my heart.  After a few appointments (during one of which I remember Beth telling me that, even if I never got pregnant, my body was still good enough, I was still good enough), I burst into tears.  Full-on tears, a flat-out stream.  It was, I believe, the release I needed.


My reasons for not being ready for motherhood are complicated, and the details behind my resistance are maybe not the point.  Simply stated:  I wasn’t ready, and my body knew this. Thankfully, for me and my husband, I became pregnant shortly after that experience with my acupuncturist.


My point in telling you this?  To humbly suggest that our bodies know.  Over the 16+ years of motherhood now under my proverbial belt, I’ve reflected often on those two years of trying to get pregnant.  Sitting with Beth on that day, it was almost as if a switch had been flipped inside me.  I don’t mean to trivialize; infertility is a heavy burden for couples.  I am simply telling the story that is mine.


My not getting pregant was linked to a deep knowing within.  My body was physically able, but my heart wasn’t there yet.  I wanted a baby, sure.  But something held me back.  Fear of not knowing how to be a good mother?  Fear of stepping away from career choices?  Fear of slipping into a stereotypical role?


That last one, especially I think.  I wanted a baby, but I wasn’t prepared to shift my priorities in order to let that happen.  I honestly don’t know what caused the shift.  I only know that I very clearly felt it happen…in Beth’s office, in that flood of tears.  I think, in those two years of trying, my body was waiting for my heart to catch up.  Which she did.


Motherhood has brought me incredible joy.  It has taught me lessons.  It has doled out challenges.  It has brought me contentment.  It is a contentment that I feel deep within my body, within my heart.  It is a knowing that I am exactly where I am meant to be.  I have hard days, to be sure.  I also have extraordinary, ordinary days…days that are rooted in love, days that are rooted in a sense of rightness.  That initial resistance was a deep knowing in my body.  These years later, I feel another knowing which runs as deep.


It is a knowing that I am mother and I am blessed.  It is a knowing that I am content.  And to this life and any higher power, I say thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.


From me to you, here and now…