I am scared of…
The childless woman.
She frightens me to the core-because I don’t know her. I don’t understand her. I can’t possibly imagine her life.
She scares me because she is the opposite of what i embody.
She scares me-because she is cold. Frigid. And cannot love.
She scares me-because i do not want to know her, i don’t want to welcome her, i don’t want to greet her. She scares me, because i don’t want her to love my husband-i don’t think she could know how to love him, is she capable of love? i don’t want her to use my body, i don’t want her to speak my words.
The childless woman…i think-needs to be greeted, welcomed in, accepted. I think that she needs a little love now. A little compassion, some understanding… the childless woman might be cold or frigid because of her past… maybe i don’t know the full story. Perhaps the childless woman lost many, cried for many, perhaps her struggle went on for years and years-was in her blood… perhaps she howled at the moon, mourned her cycle, continued on with her head buried in her arms. Over time it can wear on you, it can consume you, over time it can make you hard…
Maybe the childless woman was once soft and beautiful, gentle with her tongue and smooth with her touch. I’m sure her hair once flowed down her back-rather than being strung so tightly…
We’re told that the only way to overcome fear, is to face it.
I’m opening my door to the childless woman, and giving her a cup of tea. Trying my hardest to listen to her side-to listen to her story… to understand that she doesn’t want to be that woman-but that she had no choice… that she still can love a man, love a person, but that she doesn’t love herself.
I’m afraid of her-because around her i see grey. I see lifeless… i see loveless. I see her self destruction leading to devastation all around in, in all areas of her life.
I want to hold her hand-without fear of catching it…
IT cannot, of course, be caught…
I want to warm to her, to hold her, to hug her. I want her to look in the mirror and see herself, not see a failure. I want her to give life in other ways-in other ways from her body. It wasn’t meant to be… and I need her to understand that. I need her to know that there is more to life than birthing it, there is so much that needs to be cradled and loved, so much that is overlooked.
I’m learning not to be so afraid of her… but i’m still scared of letting her become too comfortable. I know she is hurting-but I am still wary.
She and I are two different people…. and I do not want the same fate. If i see her for what she is, for who she is underneath it all…well, i can only see one in the same. We are of the same.
But I cannot imagine our futures will ever follow the same path.
The sweetness, and bitterness with meeting her is showing me that I have the choice. That even if my path follows hers-she is never who I will become.
I choose, that no matter what way I will give life on earth, I will never be as hard, cold, rigid. I will never be without life and love. I will never let myself dry up. I will find outlets, I will find beacons of light to carry me through the dark days.
But one thing I do know, I have nothing to fear of the childless woman… She and I are much the same-but I will choose my path differently. I will live mine differently-in thanks to her, for showing me her past-and what I do not want to become of my future.
She is my friend. Who I want to hold and care for-but mostly, who I want to see the full potential of herself.
Childless woman, can you not see all the years you wasted neglecting yourself? Neglecting the lives around you, the feeling of love in your heart. How ugly you turned when the dark got darker-and you didn’t reach out… I know your pain, I feel it in my belly-the same pain you carry so deeply in your heart. But you did not try to see another way, to think outside of the box… that sometimes life is given in different forms, that mothers are created in different mediums. That we are to discover our gift, not assume.
Childless woman. I welcome you. And I am afraid of you no longer.
….
On the beginning of my own journey, knowing that I am not in control. Realizing that there are many outcomes. Many stories. Many paths. Learning to embrace all of them. To not expect things to go how I plan…. The best things in life are worth fighting for, nothing has come easy for me, and I am grateful to that-because it makes me try my best not to take my relationships for granted. One day, my baby will wear those shoes, and I will carry him on my hip-but I will never forget the childless woman. And then, when I have my babe safe in my arms, listening to the music of his laughter, smelling the sweetness of his neck-I will share with her, and I will feel her pain even more, because I know that she so deeply needed that, but that she didn’t realize that she could have it in so many ways.
*edited to add
-no, i am not carrying a baby with me right now.. only in my heart so far. i'm only on the journey to find one..
**to clear things up further-since there was confusion..
it has nothing to do with other women.
it is the woman in myself.
my worst fear is infertility.
and i recently discovered that i have polycystic ovaries-so it makes it a bit more difficult for me to conceive.
it has taken me a while to come to terms with the fact that I CAN get pregnant. it will be hard–it MIGHT be a long journey.
and to come to terms with the fact that 'what if'…
what if i cant get pregnant?
i'm afraid of the woman i would become..
i'm afraid of what it would do to my marriage
of who i would create if my body didnt give me the one thing that i ask of it.
it scares me–because i cant imagine how i would treat my husband,–because i would want him to have children.
i want to tell myself that if i couldnt have a baby, i wouldnt be a failure.
so the letter to the childless woman was not to WOMEN.
but to me…
to a part of me.
that i am scared of.
that i hope to never face.
these ladies are special to me, i am really loving them. i don't know what i am doing with them, but i'm not going to question it. just going with the flow of what is happening…
