We went to church. Shopped a bit. Went home. Ordered takeout. Watched movies. Had two crying jags. Short and controlled. I knew of one so when the pastor blessed the mothers I coped iwth it best I could. Grateful that I was totally blocked from everyone’s vision because I was stnading beside the pastor. Today was Pentecost Sunday so we spoke of the Breath of God as a mighty wind. I imagined the breeze I felt today as God’s caresses and reminder that He is there, carrying me always.

After church, I was waiting in the sanctuary for Mikey to get ready to leave when the person who will become our therapist came up to say hi. We don’t fall in the same social circles but I am not 100% comfortable with having her as our therapist but Mikey picked her out and did the legwork for the first. time. ever.  so i figure I can set my slight discomfort aside. We plan to start in June.

She has a brief outline on the issues to date so as Mikey and I were getting out things together, she said “Take a rose”. (We had roses in a vase to give out to the mothers). I stared, speechless. “For the spirit of it. For the journey. For the fact that you have already displayed motherhood in your quest for motherhood. That you mother in different ways.”

I took a rose and held it for most of the afternoon. As we were getting on the bus that would take us home, I pulled apart all of the petals thinking about my infertility, my nephews with an ill mother, my mother who I was only able to leave a voice mail message for. I thought about those of us who are finding the day to be painful or bittersweet instead of absoulte joy. I thought of the love I have for my partner and how much I wanted us to be okay again. I thought of the fact that depite the tears I have a wonderful life.

And I let the rose petals go slowly, one by one and watched them being carried by the breeze. Or I guess depending on your spiritual perspective, carried by the breath of the Creator.