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Where Was I?



First, cheers to all my peeps who know and appreciate the downside spectrum of the mid-May Sunday-palooza, which can run the gamut from mildly grating to downright painful.

I'd all but forgotten about this newly carved out space due to recent distractions, but then the second Sunday in May rolled around.  

I'd done a pretty good job of not thinking much about it this year. I purchased and mailed something to my mother well in advance of the commercial onslaught and didn't get nearly the volume of disingenuous promotions. (Curiously, more than one retail entity, screenshot below, broadened the promotional appeal to encompass a larger population.) 


The optimist in me wondered: could the past decade-plus of pushing back on "mom-centric" pro-natalist messaging be getting through? The cynic in me said: with the world's economy under greater pressure they don't want to discriminate against any sales target.

Last Friday, though, I was on a short, flat terrain walk to protect my ankles (while on a new round of prednisone, ugh!) with a relatively new friend when Mother's Day weirdness hit like a sledge hammer.

While strolling along in conversation, I saw a woman coming the opposite way on the path. The three of us first connected a few years ago on local environmental issue advocacy. My energetic companion, who has an abundance of acerbic wit and an all-around delightful personality, is also a little hard of hearing. (She's some 15 years older than me, which means she came of age when Gloria Steinem and the second wave feminists were in their early days. This newer pal is childfree by choice, but remarkably empathetic about my infertility experience.)

When our paths crossed with the other community member, we all struck up some small talk. As the encounter came to a close, the third woman continued on before stopping to shout: "Happy Mother's Day!"  

Startled, I simply waved goodbye. After years of working alongside us, did this woman really not know neither I nor my companion, also a published writer with easily accessible bios, had no children? We'd never mentioned it overtly, but we'd also never dropped children into a conversation (she had). Moreover, a simple online search would have put any doubts to rest. 

My somewhat-hearing-impaired friend hadn't heard the enthusiastic sign-off. While I know she would have had a choice retort if she had, I didn't bother to clue her in. Once again. I realized that society's default, even now, is to assume that such a casual aside wouldn't harbor any barbs. 

It did, albeit, not as sharp as years gone by.

The prednisone may well have sharpened the emotional jab. So, yep, I'm on another 12-day course, day 10 this morning, in a desperate attempt to turbo charge the reduction in my bi-lateral ankle inflammation.

While alternately staring at my toes on the back of the sofa (elevation and icing help) and my iPad, my monkey brain jumped around further this weekend. How blissfully ignorant I was last May. I had no idea, then, I was on the verge of a new, year-long health odyssey.  

Glad I'm on the backside of that medical mystery.

Gratefulness of a different sort came in the form of a moving text on Sunday. A long-time blog participant (now friend) who lives thousands of miles away reached out with this message: "Happy Mentors of Many Day! Your work changed my life for the better, and maybe even saved my life."

Cheers to being there for each other. xx

Comments

  1. That sign-off is bad enough, but excusable if people genuinely don't know we don't have kids. When people should know, or probably know and forgot, or were so wrapped up in their own world that they never bothered to know, it is frustrating. Glad you had a lovely walk with a new friend who sounds awesome. And I love the Happy Mentors of Many Day greeting too.

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  2. Even though we live on opposite sides of the big pond, we seem to apply similar strategies – I also mailed my mother a gift in advance.
    I have been noticing more inclusive Others Day greetings on Instagram for several years now. I guess, as the years pass there are more and more of us going through infertility or ending up CNBC. I do think the awareness is growing (and I am normally a pessimist).
    So sorry to hear about your health challenges. Walking and hiking is important to me as well. I can only imagine how hard it must be to deal with this additional problem. I do hope the Prednisone helped at least a little...

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  3. This was my first Voldemort Day without my mother. Ironically, I was actually at my parents' house -- the first time I'd been there on that day in almost 35 years! Thankfully, I was too busy helping my sister clean out the house (which has been sold) to think too much about it. Neither she nor my dad said anything about it, and I wasn't going to remind them. It's certainly hard to escape the hype, isn't it??

    Sending healing vibes your way!

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  4. I also noticed the "and mother figures" additions this year. Which I guess is progress? But I did snort with your analysis that it's to include more sales targets, ha. I hope your ankle heals up, that sounds painful (and prednisone is the devil). So tone-deaf of the third woman to wish you both Happy Mother's Day. I do love that you chose not to share with your friend with a hearing impairment. I only had one person wish me a Happy Mother's Day this year, a teacher who is next to my room, but I let it go because she didn't know. I'm glad you survived another year and it's not as barbed as past ones!

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