Here’s to all the women out there, today. May you forever realise your potential regardless of your ability to be a mother.
The Childless Other
I stupidly sit alone in a cafe where generations of women
with their plentiful offspring surround me.
Their feigned looks of contentment tease and mock,
as if nothing in this world is as joyous as motherhood.
What on Earth was I thinking?
Of course the army of matriarchal lineage would be here
on this day of all days,
every chin-dabbing, arse-wiping, kid-fawning lot of them.
I must have been drunk when I agreed to meet here,
now a hell for the child-less damned.
As I try to ignore the pull at my barren womb
and the verge of tears that pushes, pulls and strains on my eyes
I bury my bitter thoughts deep down
hidden from prying doe-eyed matrons,
their pitying glances tut-tutting disapproval
for leaving motherhood all too late.
I sip my cappuccino in peace
silently raising my middle finger in defense
to the judgment of unfulfillment simply because I:
made a choice
have a broken uterus/vagina/body
‘married’ into infertility
love a woman
haven’t found ‘The One’
am waiting to adopt
couldn’t give a fuck about society’s expectations of women.
I may not be a mother – yet
but I am a proud woman full of life, love and loss
who doesn’t let what I don’t have define me.
I am part of the otherhood
just like my sisters from all over the world
who thank God that Mother’s Day only comes once a year.