As I sat this morning enjoying the warm sun on my first day of a much-needed vacation, I started thinking about all of the things in this world that are disposable.
We throw away traces of our existence from when we first rise in the morning (coffee grinds, cereal boxes, paper towels, empty toothpaste tubes) to the last thing at night (plastic containers, the day’s newspaper, leftovers from dinner). We’ve become a society more conscious about the need to recycle, yet still our days are filled with throwing away.
As a society we also throw away animals who no longer meet our expectations. The shelters are full of dogs and cats who once were cute, cuddly, and convenient, and who now shake and cower in cages hoping someone can see past their current predicament and bring them home. Many are unfortunately not so lucky.
Yes, we live in a disposable society.
All of this has led me to wonder, what about the children who society has all but thrown away? It is perhaps hardest for women faced with the distinct possibility that they may never bear a child through their own body who are most perplexed by this phenomenon. How can so many people walk away the very thing we want most?
Sometimes I wonder if those children don’t have special guardian angels watching over them. And lately I catch myself wondering if those same guardian angels are the very ones who swoop down and block our tubes, send our hormones to Mars, or leave our husbands with subpar swimmers.
Is it possible we are the chosen ones? It is possible we are not cursed, but rather that we have been specially chosen as those with the most courageous of souls, the strongest of hearts, and the broadest expanse of love? Are we the ones the angels have chosen for a world full of cast aside children?
Sometimes I wonder.
Note: Please know that my blog is no way a commentary on the heart wrenching decision for many mothers to place their children in better homes than they can provide. My reference is only to those children whom society has not swept right up from one family into another. The ones who pass from home to home in a foster system ill-equipped to handle the unfortunate influx of children, or for whom an orphange is the place they lay their heads each night. My blog is about a society that does not provide a loving home for every single child born of whatever circumstance. Mostly, my post is about reframing infertility as a means to which women find children who were made for them in a different way than the one we traditionally know.