Bitter Sweet Symphony
Cause it's a bittersweet symphony this life
I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah
I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind , I feel free now
But the airwaves are clean and there's nobody singing to me now
For those not familiar, the lines above are from the song Bitter Sweet Symphony by The Verve. I can't tell you how many times I've let those lyrics wash over me during long, contemplative walks. The song has a special significance this weekend. Where once deep sadness and anger took center stage on Mother's Day weekend, the sensation I feel now is bittersweetness. I expect it always will be the emotion du jour from here on out.
I'm in the Detroit area for a pit stop of sorts after business took me to New York earlier this week. I'm here for a short family visit and to celebrate my mother before heading back to California. So far I've had one customer service person wish me a "Happy Mother's Day" and I expect it won't be the last one. Where in the past such an innocuous greeting would have sent me into orbit, I'm now at a point where I'm just so whatever.
Where I once harbored resentment and envy for all women who could biologically reproduce -- and never quite so furiously as this weekend -- today I'm just resigned to the fact that while my body can do a lot of things really well, conception and delivery are just not on the list.
It does bother me still that any women who can conceive gets held up as a "queen" for a day. That seems unfair somehow. The attention and adulation would be better focused on those women who truly have earned the right to be held up as model Madonnas (not the rocker type, but the real deal).
I've come to appreciate since working out my infertility tortured emotions that I can peacefully co-exist and respect mothers in a way I once could not. I don't know that I'll ever be able to warm up to the smug, self-important moms, those who seemingly hold up their children like some sort of breeding trophy. (They're just too much fun to spoof, too.)
I would like to salute a set of bloggers and readers who have succeeded with pregnancy or have mothered children through adoption. Through them, I have a new appreciation for what Mother's Day is supposed to signify and celebrate: women who truly represent the goodness of motherhood -- those who sacrifice in significant ways to ensure the safety and well-being of their children, those who take their responsibilities to nurture, discipline, and raise good caring future generations, those who don't underestimate the miracle that brought their children into being in the first place.
I would also like to salute those mothers who have a kind and generous heart and look out for the wellbeing of their infertile sisters. To the mother in the midwest referred to here in this post from last Mother's Day, I still would like to know where you live so I can send you flowers.
I think dark, bitter chocolate should become the symbolic treat for this day.
Yet another excellent post, PJ.
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She does deserve flowers. And so do you, for coming so far with such intense feelings.
I'm not a big fan of holidays. We don't do Valentine's. I have to be very careful at Christmas and Thanksgiving, or they are ruined for me by the commercialization. Most holidays that were created in the 20th century are really nothing more than marketing ploys. But you know that, I'm sure.
I hope you will make tomorrow a You Day, and be proud of yourself for your strength, wisdom, perseverance and all that you are doing for women in your shoes with this blog and your writing.
Not all people who have suffered this kind of trauma are able to make it through to the other side. I think you're well on your way.
A hug from me!
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Oh, and I forgot to tell you... that's one of my favorite songs. I felt like it was written for me the first time I heard it.
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Wonderful thoughts and a great post.
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I read that post around this time last year, and as Mothers' Day approached again, it came back into my mind. It made a deep impression on me. I have been reflecting on what I think is an appropriate response to public celebration of Mothers' Day (does it need to be public at all?), and haven't reached any conclusions. I won't need to make any decision, though, as a nasty sinus infection will keep me at home in any case.
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"I don't know that I'll ever be able to warm up to the smug, self-important moms..."
I don't know if that has anything to do with infertility. Makes it bite harder, of course.
Bea
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PJ -- Had a dream last night that we were hanging out with a big bottle of wine and a hardback of your book. You were all smiles! Hope you have a good day and a safe trip home.
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Sounds great, Ellen! I'm ready to join you in your dream...thanks for your good thoughts.
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What a great post. Thanks for that -- much needed today.
Somewhere inside me, though, I find Mother's Day to be a sad reminder that no matter what, momhood is still the #1 "most important" thing a woman can ever achieve.
Despite whatever else she is (speaker of the house, etc!) -- everyone's always got to remind you she's a mom. Note they do not do the same for accomplished men who are dads... ever.
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Hope you're having a good day with your family... all I can say is, the hype will soon be over for another year...!
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There are a lot of mothers out there that should not be held up as "queen for a day" but I do have to admit there are a lot who should be. I for one was pissed off that I did not get any acknowledgment, even from my husband...I AM a step-mother! Sorry, I am bitter!!
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I really love that song, by the way, it's one of my favourites.
I noticed that there were a lot of mother day specials in the paper for spa getaways for mums and daughters, Real Simple magazine had an issue with the editor's page full of babies of their employees (I wonder if anyone who worked there might have found that torture), and I was struck once again that I'd never have that link that our mothers have with us. I thought about the birth/first mothers who have relinquished infants and of how they might be feeling on that day, and the women like me who never even got pregnant, of the women who had miscarriages and stillbirths, the women who brought home nothing from the hospital.
But I still have my mum, and for that I can be grateful.
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You were here! In Michigan! Nearby!
We could have met up for wine and good food! Next time, maybe
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