Infertility has long been considered a women's problem. But science says, it takes two to tango and in actuality it's really 50 / 50 when it comes to biological causes of infertility. Not only that, but infertility is a bit of a "canary in the coal mine" when it comes to health and infertility can signal systemic health problems. And yet, infertility is treated almost exclusively by ob/gyns. Men and the health issues that cause infertility in men are usually ignored because IVF and other modern treatments can generally bypass male issues... generally. This is all over simplified for the sake of brevity.
Our company had a mission to educate and help men improve health on the way to fatherhood. And in the process, I became a coach, an advocate and friend to many men who struggled with infertility. Some of whom are still connected to me on social media all these many years later.
I was also a mom of 3 small boys. A 4 year old, 2 year old and newborn. I had a lot on my plate. My 4 year old was thriving in Montessori but my 2 year old struggled. He seemed more sensative and clingy. He was happy with mom, but away from mom... well, he did his best. The newborn lived in a wrap tied to my body most of the day. Where I went, he went. To meetings, investor pitches and the like. Usually there was a baby attached to my body.
But, as the startup grew, I needed to travel - to conferences and meetings. So I left my babies and boarded planes and did my thing to shine my light into the world hoping to make a change that would, in a small way, make life better for people.
I would come home and be covered in children. But, something felt wrong. I felt bad for leaving them. I could tell that how many hours I could give them or how deeply I could attend to them, it wasn't enough. They needed more. The problem was, there wasn't more. I was already getting up at 4am to start work so I could be with them in the afternoon. I was working as hard and as efficiently as I could carving myself into smaller and smaller pieces.
I felt this weight of guilt. On one hand my responsibility to my children and on the other, my responsibility to my work. It was crushing.
Guilt is uncomfortable. It is a heavy weight of not being the type of person you intend.
I was listening to one of my lenten books, "A life worth living" recently and came to a chapter on what to do when you mess up. The book overviews different philosophical and faith traditions approach to the big questions - what make life worth living, why do we suffer, what is our purpose and what should we do when we fail.
This chapter was focused on failure and it started with an interesting question. "What does it feel like to be wrong?" My answer, like many others, was bad. It feels heavy and sad and embarrassing and it kicks off an inner fight which on one hand is condemning myself and the other justifying myself. But, the book says, these are answers to the wrong question. They are how we feel when we realize we are wrong. But to be wrong without realizing it feels the same as being right.
This is why motherhood is so life changing.
In so many other aspects of life, I'm doing good enough. If I ignore the poor, the poor are not going to wake me up and night and yell, "you've ignored me." But a two year old will. Children bear the truth of who we are back to us and so especially when I was early in my motherhood journey, guilt seemed to pour into my life.
I wasn't used to that. Generally people told me I was a good person. I generally felt good about things I did. I was a rule follower and people pleaser so I did not have much experience with guilt.
I wrestled philosophically with my dilemma. Was the good I was doing in the world worth the harm I was causing my son? The harm was probably small, right? Moms travel all the time and kids learn and grow. But it nagged me. So I chose the 3rd way and I decided to bring him and the baby and my mom or a babysitter with me when I traveled. It felt better to pay money and do good by my children and by my work.
But mom guilt wasn't solved by just creative solutions. Over the years my children have confronted who I am as a human being. And I have felt guilty for my own personality flaws.
Children know every single one of our buttons.
Every.
Single.
One.
Reading the gospel, I find Jesus to be like this. He confronted everyone. He confronts me. His confrontations sometimes seem to contradict each other, one time he admonishes this and the other he admonishes in the opposite direction. But in motherhood start to get it. We are supposed to be all and both in ways that are impossible.
In life I can get by with being good enough. But in motherhood, I am crushed by the fact that:
1. I can't actually be a good as I intend to be
2. Even my best self is not good enough to raise my kids in the ideal way I would hope them to be raised.
And so guilt.
But guilt is not the end of the story. Guilt pushes me to change and apologize. Guilt pushes me to restore things I've broken by what I've done and what I've not done.
My kids make me a better mom and frankly a better human. They've taught me patience and persistence. They've taught me so many ways I can put myself aside and how many ways I put myself first without realizing it.
Jesus in his confrontation pushes me too. He's asked me to take a good long look at my relationship with money and time and what I think is mine. He's asked me to welcome the "least of these" and "love others as he has loved me. " and "pick up my cross and follow him. " I do push towards these things. But as I find in motherhood, there isn't enough of me to be the person he calls me to be.
And every time I allow the guilt to hit my heart truly - not deflect or bury or justify - but rather just sit and own my short comings, I allow Jesus to mold me into the creation he made me to be.
But there is still the matter of even my very best self not living up to the call Jesus places on me as a mother or a a human. And for this, I look beyond myself.
God called us to do this work together. Where I am weak as a mother there is dad and grandarents, aunts, uncles, friends, teachers and a whole community wrapped around my boys, bringing their flawed selves that are able to give and teach in ways I cannot.
And the whole body of Christ can link arms to feed the hungry and visit the imprisoned and care for the sick and pray for the kingdom of God to come.
This week is a time to reflect on Christ. What he did, who he was and how he suffered and the fact the we cannot, no matter how hard we try, reach the standard Christ calls us to be. May these solemn moments push us past a gratitude and into a life marked by repentance and rebirth so we can together become the people Christ calls us to be.
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