I got an email from my step-mom-in-law the other day, expressing her disappointment and saddness with “the choices” our family has made. I’ve yet to recieve clarification on which choices specifically concern her, but she did mention the “unfortunate news” of my daughter’s pregnancy. However, she mentioned my husband and myself by name, as well, when telling us how “saddened” she was with the paths we have chosen.
While my first reaction was to simply put her back in her place and forget about it, I soon found myself realizing how I was guilty of often doing the same damn thing. When my daughter first told me she was pregnant, all I could think about was how my hopes for her future had been crushed. Let me point out that she is only 15-years-old and you will understand what I mean. I even sat her down and tried to convince her to seriously consider abortion as there were two lives at stake here, hers as well as the baby’s. But I didn’t stop there. When she tried to tell me that being a wife and mother was all she had ever wanted out of life, I proceeded to tell her that she had no business worrying about being a wife or mother right now because she hadn’t finished her education and experienced all life has to offer.
As time passed, this weighed heavier and heavier on my mind. Like a bolt out of the blue, a quote by Mother Theresa came to mind: “It is a poverty to decide that a child must die so that you may live as you wish.” It finally made perfect sense to me. I had tried to convince my daughter to abort her baby so that she could live the life I wished her to have. I was suddenly transported back to a time several months ago when my illness had me convinced that life was no longer worth living… when the thought that kept me going was wanting to see my children grow into adulthood, for them to experience true love and the joys of parenthood. I didn’t think about graduations from universities or huge job promotions! Their finding love and having a family were what I wanted to live long enough to witness. Where did I lose sight of that dream, that hope, for them?
A few years ago, as a 32-year-old single-mom, I had an unplanned pregnancy. Although I was unable to take birth control pills, I had avoided pregnancy for 12 years using various other methods. I still had a normal period that first month, so when visiting my doctor for vomitting and headaches, I dismissed her suggestion that I might be pregnant. She persisted and viola, the test was positive. However, it was a slow-positive. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but she sent me to another facility for a blood test. Meanwhile, I had a million thoughts running through my head. She phoned me the next day to tell me that my hormone levels were not in normal ranges and that could indicate a possible miscarriage. In short, it was “congratulations” one day and “deepest sympathies” the next. I was scheduled for repeat blood tests in the following days to determine if more action would be required and eventually, my cycle resumed and the pregnancy had ended.
I’ve never told another living soul, but that hit me harder than I could have ever imagined. I told my mother and boyfriend that it was for the best and I was okay with how it all worked out, but I truly wasn’t. I was getting older and hadn’t quite let go of my dreams of five kids playing in my backyard. I never met “the man of my dreams” and felt it unfair that I was never given the oppotunity to have more children. I had lived with the “shame” of being an unwed mother before and wasn’t sure how much more difficult it had made my daughter’s life. I just couldn’t do that to another child. Or could I? A few months later, in the heat of passion, my boyfriend got over-eager and “let the boys play in the rain without putting their raincoat on.” I nearly bolted upright in the bed! No exaggerating! How could he have been so selfish? But later that night, I remember almost praying, if you will, to whatever powers that be… please let this be! If I am meant to ever be a mother again, please let this be. A few weeks later, I had a positive pregnancy test.
Although I didn’t get pregnant on purpose, I sure wanted it to happen and the guilt of that nearly killed me. My boyfriend’s disappointment with the news should have finished me off. Though my mother was thrilled for me, his was furious! Women in their 30′s should know better than to get knocked up, right? Suddenly my wonderful news wasn’t so wonderful. I spent the majority of my pregnancy feeling ashamed and responsible for ruining so many lives. Imagine, thinking of a baby as something horrible! Some dreaded curse! Shame on all of those who ever made me feel that way! And shame on me for ever trying to do the same to my own daughter.
My boyfriend and I married a few months after our son was born and he is one of our greatest blessings. My husband’s mother continued to cause such grief that I just don’t allow her to have anything to do with me or my son. My husband’s father and step-mom, on the other hand, have been supportive. Or so we thought, before getting the email mentioned above. But knowing how sometimes the things we want in our lives that don’t fit into the expectations of other can sometimes still be a blessing, I can no longer be so judgemental with my daughter. Sometimes being a good mother means not interrupting your child’s evolution into adulthood.
