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I would have been a damn good Mom

July 21, 2014

I tend to not spend a lot of time in the world of What If. It’s a useless game to play, especially when it comes to J. It doesn’t help me deal with my relationship with him, it doesn’t help deal with my grief in not parenting him and it doesn’t change anything. So I have learned to just not really think about it. 

But then sometimes I have these days, days like this weekend where I can’t help but recognize that I would have been an awesome Mom. I believe that fully.

I spent a portion of today at a three year old’s birthday party. This is a child I’ve spent a lot of time with recently, his Mom is my good friend and has been dealing with child care issue’s so I’ve been baby-sitting for him about once a week. And as a normal three year old, he was full into screaming and knocking things over and running around the restaurant. And then there would be these moments, since I wasn’t real close to many of the adults at the party (except my friend) there was a large portion of the party where I sort of hung out with the three year old, where I interacted with him in different ways. Sometimes I played gate keeper making sure he didn’t escape to another part of the restaurant. Other times I helped him clean off his frosting covered hands before he played with toys. And once or twice I would get him to stop screaming by talking to him about what he was thinking about. And during some of these moments I would think “I would have been good at this, I would have been a damn good Mom.” 

I know that being a Mom is more than the things I was doing today and I’m not trying to say that spending a couple hours with a child is anywhere near being a Mom (especially spending time with a child when there’s about 20 other adults present). But days like today I can imagine what it would have been like, what I would have been like, and I just know I would have been good.

I turned 34 a few weeks ago, and although I’m sure I could still have another child at some later date, I’ve also begun to realize that there’s a pretty decent shot that it’s just not going to happen – let’s face it, meeting a good guy and getting serious enough with him to even consider having a child together isn’t going to happen tomorrow. And frankly that’s a real shame if I don’t have another child, because I know I would be a good mother. But it might just not be my reality, not the way my life played out.

It’s moments like that where I realize how difficult it can be to watch a thing you want most in the world disappear from your grasp. I know how hard that can be. I want to scream and yell about how the world isn’t fair, how it shouldn’t be this way. 

But the world isn’t fair. It’s just not.

Personally, I think the only way I can deal with a world that seems so unfair to me is to find a way to prevent unfairness to someone else. That means making sure other women who are pregnant and would be amazing Moms get the chance to, even if they are alone in the world, even if they don’t feel like they have the support to do it. But much the way I felt during my pregnancy, the systematic problems our country has created in not supporting new families feels way too big to overcome, I don’t know how to even make a drop in that giant bucket. So instead I think maybe I’ll focus on the unfairness of the kids who don’t have families to take care of them, the kids in foster care who have experienced how unfair the world can be. Truthfully when I think how unfair the world seems to me, it seems a million more times unfair for kids who are hurting because of the mistakes of their parents and of a system that seems to forget about them.

I found an organization that I think I’m going to volunteer at (assuming they’ll have me). I can’t start quite yet, there’s some big life changes happening with me in the next couple of months and I need to get past those first, but come this fall I think I need to do this. If for nothing else, I need to feel like I’m doing something positive in this world and making the world just a little less unfair for someone else.

 

 

3 Comments leave one →
  1. July 21, 2014 1:45 am

    Wow – love this post. Took my breath away! All the best with what you have going on in the next few months – change is tricky but we always make it through. Take care!

  2. July 21, 2014 7:42 am

    I find it very interesting how so many of us turn into ‘wounded healers’.

  3. July 21, 2014 10:47 am

    I’m a birth mother who relinquished my son 46 years ago and fortunately was able to find him a couple of years ago. We have a wonderful relationship now, but I will never stop regretting all the years we weren’t together. Every time I see a young mother with her son, my heart skips a beat. He could be a three-year old, a five-year old, or a ten-year old, and I imagine what my son would have been like at that age and what kind of relationship we’d have had. I have other children whom I love dearly, and I have been a good mother to them. If I’d known at 22 what I know now, I would never have let my son go. I thought I was doing what was best for him, and it turned out to be ruinous for both of us. I support marriage equality, and if gay couples want to adopt a child out of foster care who truly has nowhere else to go, then I support that too. But babies belong with their mothers. Anything else is a recipe for endless heartache. I know how you feel, and I wish I could tell you it gets better, but if anything it just gets worse. I’m so sorry.

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