Joy and Grief in Motherhood

This year I have been particularly struck by the recognition that Mother's Day carries a great deal of both joy and pain for many people. Right now I know of women for whom this day is painful, and for many different reasons. The pain of children lost. The pain of children longed for. The pain of a mothering dream disappointed -- some aspect of motherhood that was expected but has not worked out. The pain of becoming a widow, of losing the husband with whom she became a mother and shared the gift of family. In addition to so much rejoicing taking place this time of year, a lot of grieving is going on, too.

I am in the company of such as these. While this past weekend has been incredibly refreshing and life-giving to me, thanks to the thoughtfulness and love of my husband and to the gift of God in Nathanael, I share in the grieving of many. Josh and I remember our two little ones we lost through miscarriage almost a year and a half ago, but who still have a place of belonging in our family. Also on Mother's Day, Josh and I decided together to draw a close to breastfeeding Nathanael, who is four and a half months old. Breastfeeding has been so intimately tied up with my perceptions of how well I am taking care of Nathanael, and how I am loving him, that the difficulties we have had with it have been so emotional and consuming. Despite all my hopes and longings and expectations, and the knowledge that God created breastmilk as such a perfect food for our babies, it really does seem to us that bottle feeding with formula is the best thing for Nathanael and for our family. This is a grieving process, too.

A day like Mother's Day is really an amplification of what we may experience every day: the intersection of what we have cause to rejoice over and what we have cause to grieve. How do we hold onto joy while, simultaneously, our hearts are breaking?

While pregnant with our twins (though we didn't know we had two until later), and praying for a name, God gave us the promise of joy. That was the message confirmed for us through various means. He led us to Isaiah 65:18-19:

But be glad and rejoice forever in what I create;
For behold, I create Jerusalem for rejoicing
And her people for gladness.
I will also rejoice in Jerusalem and be glad in My people;
And there will no longer be heard in her
The voice of weeping and the sound of crying.

We received a very clear message that God created our little ones for rejoicing and gladness. He delighted in them, and created them in blessing! For awhile after our miscarriage, I felt confused and betrayed by God. The promise of joy? Where was our joy, and our children's joy? Where was His promise? And I can certainly tell you that the voice of weeping has been heard from our house.

I began to remember, however, that God is faithful in all His promises. So if He gave us the promise of joy for our children, He meant it! My conclusion, then, was that my understanding of true joy is incomplete. God did create our children for rejoicing, and He did intend for us to rejoice in them, His creation! And He does have a hope and a future for all of us where the sound of weeping really won't be heard. Can we see it all now, or understand it? "...Hope that is seen is not hope, for who hopes for what he already sees?" (Romans 8:24) No, but we can begin to seek and to grasp a kind of joy that does not make sense to this earthly place. And it is a joy that is sure.

This is my prayer for all of us who know the bittersweetness of joy and pain comingled, from a verse that has become precious to me:

Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you will abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit (Romans 15:13).

Amen.