Mary G Bruno

“The first thing I saw was Chris’s smiling face. The second thing I saw was a crisp, white lotus floating in dirty water hanging on the wall…”

Can I tell you a little secret? I haven’t felt like the name Taking Back the Terms has fit me for a while now. When I started it about 6 years ago, it just made sense. I was about 4 years into my endometriosis diagnosis and had come to terms with my infertility, but the fact that it took me 12 years to get that diagnosis still puzzled me daily, especially since I discovered the authentic women’s healthcare of NaProTechnology that had been around for 30 years. How did I not know about it? I was fired up about all these terms our confused culture robbed from reality, the result of which I believed contributed to my late diagnosis and thus, my infertility.

Women’s rights

Empowerment

Choice

Reproductive rights

Healthcare

Women’s health

When used improperly, these terms can be weaponized against truth and human dignity. Even in my Catholic bubble, these terms were not fully understood. As someone who was deeply affected by this lack of honesty and education about body literacy, authentic womanhood, and authentic healthcare, I set out to become the voice I desperately needed growing up – and speaking to humans of any faith background. Our faith, or lack thereof, should never prevent us from understanding the good news about how we are designed.

This gave me a sense of purpose, allowing me to make great use of my misfortunes. As years passed as an infertile woman, that purpose grew in clarity and ambition, especially as I got to know myself more and more as the woman God created me to be. And over time, something incredibly unexpected happened. The pain and disappointment that motivated me to help others transformed me from the inside out. 

The pain didn’t disappear, but I learned that my goodness would never be derived from my ability to procreate. I uncovered the wonder of my own spiritual motherhood solely because I fell short of biological motherhood. I recognized the beauty God was growing from the ugly filth of infertility and endometriosis I knew so well. Because it had changed me so much, I really grew to appreciate the muddy waters I had been wading in for so long. 

I could not keep what I learned to myself. The mission of Taking Back the Terms remained, and has been rejuvenated with the birth of FAbM Base, but my content had to transform with me. Diving into the meaning of suffering, identifying what infertility healing truly means, understanding IVF for what it is, and exploring adoption, discernment, motherhood, and God’s faithfulness has truly brought me new life, especially as the permanence of my infertility loomed.

I wanted to celebrate the gift of spiritual motherhood that all women possess, but is often left untapped and underappreciated. For Mother’s Day in 2020 and one month prior to my hysterectomy, I co-sponsored an Instagram giveaway with two close friends. As we searched for the perfect flower for Julianne (@julianne_mcacy) to paint, she taught me about the lotus. This unique flower’s petals are strikingly beautiful, but they don’t pop up from a perfectly landscaped garden. These beauties sprout from the unlikely birthplace of murky dirt water, not unlike much of the suffering we all experience. You can’t deny the mess that procures the beautiful thing. It was perfect for the painting and perfect for me. 

As the permanent removal of that organ we tend to take for granted approached, I clung to the grace of God and the symbolism of the lotus. He used it to teach me about life. It comforted me and brought me hope that I planned to carry through challenges that lie ahead. As I prepared for surgery, God hugged my heart with a peaceful reassurance I cannot explain, delivering me gifts within nature. In those several months, I noticed birds and flowers painted in the purest of white, as if to affirm the purity of this transition; new beginnings.

I had an uncanny sense of peace and joy as I was wheeled into the operating room. It made no earthly sense, but as I endured the surgery I dreaded would be my reality for years, I was okay. God never left my side. When I woke up from anesthesia, the first thing I saw was Chris’s smiling face. The second thing I saw was a crisp, white lotus floating in dirty water hanging on the hospital room wall.

I couldn’t believe it. God had already given me so much, but continued to show up with this confirmation of my value. I wasn’t wasted or worthless because I no longer had that life-giving organ. I was still a mother. I could still be fulfilled in life. And most importantly, I had not been forgotten. The ultimate Giver of life would continue to bloom new life into the world through me. I will always be limited by my human nature, but Christ within me cannot be contained. 

If death couldn’t hold Him back, how could my empty womb?

Infertility was easily the hardest thing I have dealt with, yet it taught me and brought me so much. I have made a commitment to myself to use that experience as a blueprint for coping with every kind of suffering I encounter. I will always be searching for a new lotus. So although I still plan to be taking back as many terms as I can, I’ll be spreading hope under the new name of @whitelotusblooming.

I hope that you’re able to find your own blooms through whatever you’re dealing with. But please don’t ever think about the pretty flower buds without realizing the muck its roots are floating in. Death couldn’t hold Him back. Our muddy waters can’t, either.

@whitelotusblooming