Shame On Me

     Temperatures are dropping, shopping has begun, Christmas music on the radio, snow falling everywhere- you know what that means...the shoveling season has begun!  Oh goodie!  Me...Pick me!  I love shoveling!
     Hmm...somehow faking enthusiasm still doesn't quite make the drudgery any better.  Frowny face! :(
     I got home from work on Tuesday knowing Lyle would be later than normal that night and shoveled all by myself.  Boo hoo...well, actually it kind of was a boohoo moment.  The last couple of weeks have been difficult...who am I kidding?  Most of 2013 has been really hard for me and now that the holidays are upon us certain feelings resurface (exacerbated by recent events).  So I cried through my shoveling.
     To be perfectly honest, this week's post will be a bit brutal, so if you don't want to listen to some one having a hard time, skip it now.
     I know the holidays are supposed to be happy and fun but this year I pretty much just want to shut myself in my house like a hermit.  First there was Halloween which means seeing cute kids in cute costumes and having their parents taking them trick or treating.  I didn't torture myself this year by going to the ward trunk or treat (last year I was a basketcase afterwards).  Then Thanksgiving comes and guilt starts.  I don't want to be around big family gatherings where everyone talks about how cute their kids are and how happy they are with their lives.  My worst Thanksgiving dread: going around the table and telling everyone what I'm thankful for.  I feel like such a hypocrite.  I realize that I have a lot of blessings,  but this year has been very difficult for me and aside from trying to eat myself into unconsciousness with the bliss of pumpkin pie, Thanksgiving isn't such a treat for me.  Why can't I be happier with my life?  What's wrong with me?  Now Christmas season has started and with it I hear everyone talk about what they're getting their kids for Christmas and whether or not they know 'the big secret' of Santa and how much they love to see the looks on their children's faces on Christmas morning.  Arrow to the heart.  And closely following Christmas is New Year's which reminds me that once again I'm a huge failure this year...another year gone, I'm older, more tired and still feel a million miles away from being a mom.
    And I can't banish the question of 'why' from coming to me over and over again.
     Why me?  Why am I chosen to have the blessing of children withheld?  Have you seen some of the people who are parents?  Yes, we have many stellar parents who care about and love their children and do their best to teach them but it's become hard not to notice some of the people who in my judgmental view don't deserve it.  To be perfectly frank, why are pedophiles, spouse and child abusers, irresponsible drunken teenagers, people who have abortions, people who kill their children or people who just plain don't want them or are unable in any way (mentally, intellectually, emotionally, etc) to take care of children able to have them and not me?  How is that supposed to make me feel?
     I'll tell you what it makes me feel: shame.  In Ether 12:27 we're told that the Lord gives us weaknesses that we may be humble and that if we have faith he will make weak things become strong.  But what if you don't have faith?  Sadly this is what I'm lacking.  Heavenly Father has given me some spiritual gifts, but having faith isn't one of them.  I've struggled with it my entire life.  My life's experiences have taught me that no matter how much I want something, if I ask Heavenly Father for it, he won't give it to me.  I guess that's not exactly true.  Sometimes I get it after years of suffering.  But then it doesn't feel like a blessing, it feels like I paid for it.  I realize that this perception is distorted but the more I try to pretend I don't feel it, the more it pushes itself to the front of my mind.  It doesn't really comfort me to know that the Lord targets my weaknesses and gives me experiences through which to learn to overcome them, because what if I can't?

     My friend lent me a talk on CD lately by Dr. Brene Brown which is called 'Men, Women and Worthiness: The Experience of Shame and the Power of Being Enough' which I enjoyed a lot.  It talks mainly about shame.  I'd never really known what shame was.  The best way she describes it is compared against guilt.  Guilt is about feeling remorse for our behaviors: I wish I wouldn't have done that.  Shame is about feeling bad about ourselves: What's wrong with me?  Guilt is: That was a stupid thing to do.  Shame is: I am stupid.  Guilt: I made a mistake.  Shame: I am a mistake.  Who knew that shame is something I've been struggling with my whole life without really having a name for it?  I've always had a problem feeling worthless and like there's something fundamentally wrong with me, deep inside.  Now I know what to call it.
     Infertility has made me feel more shame than I ever thought possible.  And yes, it was already inside me but it's drastically influenced by situations and events around me (like the holidays) and by people as well.  Here's some of the things I've been told by other people that have made me feel hurt and shameful.

     * My morning sickness is so bad that you wouldn't trade places with me even if you could.
     *Until I became a mother there was no way I could possibly have understood Heavenly Father's love for his children.
     *You're lucky you don't have kids, you get to spend all that time and money on yourself!
     *I don't know why Laura has to hate my daughter just because she's pregnant.
     *You want a child that bad?  Here, take one of mine.  They drive me nuts.
     *The reason I can have children and you can't is because it's a God given gift.
     *I'm so thankful Heavenly Father trusts me enough to take care of this child.
     *I know I was able to have another child after my accident because I keep my covenants.
     *You don't want to help me with my child?  Fine then.  Go and live your childless life and leave me alone!
     *If you have faith and obey the commandments, everything will turn out fine.
     *I'm sorry but it's been a long time, shouldn't you be used to it by now?
     *You should just be happy with the blessings that you have.
     *The purpose of women is for them to be mothers.
     *My friend is pregnant with triplets and she was on birth control.  I can't believe it.  Everyone's pregnant!
     *Laura, come hold my new baby.  Isn't she the cutest?  I love her so much!

     Yes, each one of these statements was made directly to me or a family member, or came from someone in a speech/talk I was attending.  Some of them are true, others are not.  All of them are from another perspective that I may never understand.  But all of them hurt me.  Is it possible not to be hurt by comments?  No.  I live in the real world.  But even if people hurt me with their comments, I generally don't get angry at them because I know that most of the time, that's not their intent.  Do I expect no one to ever talk about their children?  No.  Do I always want to be excluded from anything having to do with children?  No.  So I have to learn to function the best I can with most of the population who never have had to deal with infertility and therefore don't know how to recognize and respect it's pain in the lives of others.
     Even with those who have experienced it in some way there's still sometimes hurt that comes from them.  Most people who experience infertility end up having children.  Some forget how they felt when they were hurting so badly for a child...I know a few of these personally.  Some have children with the help of medication, medical procedures or fertility treatments like IUIs, IVF, surrogacy, or egg/sperm/embryo donations.
     Do you get it now?  Does it make sense? How in the world under the barrage of insensitive comments, lessons on how to be a good mother, every other commercial on TV being a mother taking care of her baby and daily reminders from other mothers talking about their children am I supposed to not take childlessness personally?  To not let it make me feel like a lower species of human/woman?
     I know that all of motherhood isn't smiles and kids obeying and everyone happy, running through fields holding hands while smiling and laughing together.  I'm a stepmom.  I'm an older sister.  I'm a friend.  I've been around kids my whole life.  Just because I don't have my own children doesn't mean I'm stupid and expect some blissful never ending happiness of an experience under the name of motherhood.  But I know that most mothers wouldn't trade their children for extra sleep, money, time or a cleaner house.  I however would trade all these and more for the chance to experience having children.
     So again the question why.  Why do I have to experience this?  And even if I have to struggle with this, why haven't I been given the gift that others have of bearing a child after a long struggle?  Where's my miracle?

     Then into my thoughts comes the image of a man on his knees in a garden two thousand years ago.  I see blood drops slide down his skin.  His body shakes under the magnitude of what he is experiencing.  He's feeling a kind of agony I will never experience or even likely understand.  And I'm reminded that I'm not the only one who didn't get my miracle.  Jesus also asked,  'O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.' (Matthew 26:39).  Even being perfect, He cried, 'My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me?' (Matthew 27:46).  He was not granted His miracle either.  His agony was not abated.  Yet did this mean that He deserved the suffering?  That there was something wrong with Him?  No, He was absolutely perfect.  His immense suffering was undeserved and I've made a promise to remember Him.  'The Son of Man hath descended below them all.  Art thou greater than He?' (Doctrine and Covenants 122:8).
     Let me be clear, I am in no way saying I am even close to being like my Savior, but it DOES comfort me to find some small likenesses.  It fits in with my long term goal of becoming like Him.  I know I have a long way to go.  This challenge has proved that.  I really wonder sometimes if I'll come out of this a better person.  I feel like I take a few steps forward and then something slams me back down and I wonder if I'll ever make it through this without becoming hardened and bitter.  Truly my worst fear is that the Lord will look at me someday with so much disappointment and I'll know that he finds me worthless and a failure.  That the shame I feel is deserved.  But would Heavenly Father really set me up to fail?  I want to trust His plan and have faith, but sometimes I don't know how.
     So the Lord comforts me.
     'Sing, O barren, thou that didst not bear; break forth into singing, and cry aloud, thou that didst not travail with child...Fear not; for thou shalt not be ashamed: neither be thou confounded...For a small moment have I forsaken thee; but with great mercies will I gather thee.  In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer.  For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee.' (Isaiah 54:1, 4, 7-8, 10)
     'Therefore, hold on thy way...for God shall be with you forever and ever.' (Doctrine and Covenants 122:9)
     Help me hold on, Lord.  Cover my shame and help me to sing.
     Help me to remember Thee.