Moms and Mimosas

We came, we laughed, we cried...okay, I cried... and we drank mimosas.  When I was planning this entry,  it was to be about the brunch I held to celebrate my impending hysterectomy.  Now that I come here to reflect on that day, I realize that God had other plans for a day that was intended to be a tongue in cheek celebration and what amounted to a middle finger in the direction of my very cranky uterus. 

First, the logistics.  Due to COVID, I held the brunch outside. I live in the south so Oct. 30th can be the perfect time to host an outdoor event. My friends are all vaccinated but it was pretty out and I always rule on the side of caution.  I had each one sign up on a google doc to bring a brunch dish and I provided the mimosa bar.  I scoured Amazon for some Bye Felicia balloons, uterus confetti, and cute brunch décor.  I rented a couple tables and some chairs and told my husband to take the boys out.  I did not care where or how much my oldest (age 4) tried to convince me that it should be a "family party."  I needed the cloud of testosterone, that I live in as queen of this boy filled castle, gone.  My bestie had a shirt made for me that said, "see you later, ovulator," and I paired it with a glam pink tutu skirt and the tiara I wore at my wedding.  I was ready to brunch it up!

The brunch started out with everyone getting to know each other and partaking in the deliciousness.  I had an eclectic mix of ladies there in every stage of motherhood; Mothers about to have an empty nest, mothers of toddlers and ones somewhere in the middle, mothers of multiples and ones with single children, boy moms, girl moms, and those who parent both. I am the first in the group to undergo a hysterectomy but, if statistics are correct, I will not be the last.

After some chatter, I stood up and thanked the group for coming to support me. I explained to them that I had this brunch because I wanted to drink mimosas with my friends but also to do my part to erase the taboo of talking about "female problems," because keeping quiet about what it is like, both physically and mentally, to be a woman has hurt and killed far too many of our sisters over the years.  I wanted to encourage my friends to talk to each other about the hard stuff and not let anyone make us feel ashamed of who we are and what we feel.  I have no ability to not cry when I get emotional so there were some tears as I told them that for the last six years, as I miscarried twice, struggled through two pregnancies and two very different births, had parts of my cervix removed for cancerous cells, and ended up in the hospital getting fluids because I was losing too much blood during my period, my whole focus and that of the doctors was on me as a vessel to carry children.  While I was thankful that was what led to my two rainbow babies, I was very much looking forward to being seen by my doctors as a human and not just a reproductive system. 

It was then that the damn broke and our small talk took on a whole new tone and became much deeper.  We spoke openly and freely about post partum depression, anxiety, our sex lives, impending puberty that some with older kids were facing.  We laughed about things are mother's had told us that turned out to be way too true and told stories of when and how we got "the talk."  We spoke about self worth, ADHD, and how hard and beautiful being a woman is.  It was, in short, one of the most beautiful, empowering, and comforting experiences that I have had in a very long time, if not ever.  Our pin balling conversations pooled our knowledge and experiences and we all walked away with new product recommendations, parenting strategies, questions to ask our doctors, and, most of all, the sense that we were not alone as women in the things we have gone through and the ways that we feel. 

It was liberating and life giving and I can't stress enough how much more of this is needed in our communities. We need to have these moments in life where we can strip away the Instagram perfection society seems to aim for and be 100% authentic with each other.  We cannot allow our friends to suffer alone.  We need to share freely those things that scare us most, anxiety, post partum issues, miscarriages, parenting struggles, relationship stresses, and so much more, because in sharing these things, we not only help others feel seen and heard, but we heal ourselves with the connections we make.  As women, we are thought of as the weaker sex so we try so hard to present impenetrable strength to the world.  What we don't realize is that our strength truly lies in our vulnerability.  The juxtaposition of softness and strength is what makes us unique and powerful, as do the friendships we cultivate with other women.  I encourage you all to reach out to a friend or friends and have a good talk about what is really going on in your lives.  You don't have to have a full on brunch to do it, though the mimosas might help encourage the sharing.  You just need a friend or group of friends willing to cross the bridge with you from the side of what the world sees to who they actually are,  Once that happens anything is possible.