bratfink
I'm crazy--nuts--psycho--off my rocker--on drugs--not on drugs--a drunk--sober...
sonI have another blog on the InterTubes and I posted this last year. And I thought I'd post it here, too. Because I hope to meet him before I die. And there are aunts and uncles and cousins who want to meet him, too.
If you were adopted and born on 8/17/73, in Hinsdale, Illinois, you can get your original birth certificate from the state. And if, on that birth certificate, you see these names, Trojanowski or Trzos, then you can email me at <thebratland@yahoo.com>. I hope you find this site. I hope you email me. I'll be watching.
[The Boy, by the way, is a guy I met and lived with from 1998 to 2007.]
~August 17, 1973~
I am a mother.
OK... I'm a mother times TWO.
And maybe today is the day to talk about my first child. Because I have never hidden the fact that I had a child that I gave up for adoption.
When I first started talking to The Boy via Instant Messages, I told him about the fact that I had given a child [a boy] up for adoption when I was just a [wee] lassie.
Because when you've 'done that' you learn that some people think you are some kind of freak. I kid you not.
And before I became really good friends with The Boy I wanted to know right away if he thought I was some kind of freak.
He didn't.
So, we became friends.
You see, I never kept it a secret because I always wanted the child I gave birth to to be able to find me. And I foresaw the danger of keeping his existence a secret.
How would I have explained it to people otherwise?
That's not how I am.
If you want me, you take my baggage, too.
And I've been extremely blessed in that regard. I truly have not had one man walk out on me because of it. Either they are wonderful men, or [I'm rather more inclined to believe] I am an extraordinary woman.
Oh, yes I am.
But I digress.
Almost six years after giving birth to a boy, I gave birth to a daughter. And when she was old enough to really understand things, I let her know that I had given birth to a child with a different man and I had 'given him away' to people who could take care of him and give him things that I could not.
I must have done a superb job because my daughter never felt in danger of being 'given away' or abandoned, or any of that other shit that people tell you will happen to your kids.
My daughter is, at this writing, 28 years old. And if the boy I gave birth to knocked on my door tomorrow, no one in my life would say, "OH MY GOD YOU NEVER TOLD ME."
And The Boy would let him in and treat him like his own, or at least one of my family, and he would never raise an eyebrow.
And he would be happy for me.
Not that I lose sleep over this, folks. I don't.
While that baby was growing in my belly I kept telling myself that I was growing him for someone else because I KNEW that there was no way that I could give that child a decent life AT THE TIME.
And I knew, thanks to someone close to me [who shall remain nameless, although she knows who she is] that an adopted child is as loved as a child who is flesh and blood to the people adopting.
No, it wasn't an 'open adoption' although I knew the names of the people who adopted my child. [Notice I do not say 'my son'? I'll get back to that.]
When I got pregnant, I was a junior in high school. And BACK THEN, pregnant girls were not allowed to stay in school. So I didn't graduate high school.
Years later, when my daughter was a sophomore in high school, she was talking about dropping out of school, and I told her she couldn't.
And she said to me, "YOU DID!"
And although there were extenuating circumstances for me dropping out of school, I realized I had no excuse anymore.
So I got my G.E.D.
Then I got this crazy idea that maybe, just maybe, I COULD GO TO COLLEGE!
And I did.
Now, I'm not gonna get into college life except to say this: It got me onto the Interwebs. And I thought maybe, just maybe, I could put my info OUT THERE and make it easier for the child I had put up for adoption to find me.
And I've done that.
The bad part is that the really popular sites for adoptees looking for their birth parents are sites that make you pay a [hefty] yearly fee to keep your info on the site, and I've never been wealthy enough to be able to do that.
But I have found plenty of other sites and have 'registered' with them.
I just want to give him a chance if he is trying to find me.
Because there are, I'm sure, reasons to find me. Like the health history of his birth family.
But I don't call him My Son for a couple of reasons.
And some of those reasons are:
A mother is someone who changes your shitty diapers.
A mother is someone who sits up with you when you are sick and changes the sheets you puked on in the middle of the night.
A mother goes through the chicken pox with you.
A mother teaches you to tie your shoes.
A mother finds ways to teach you how to eat and like vegetables, even peas.
A mother cries when she sends you off to kindergarten.
A mother teaches you how to say "Daddy" when she would much rather you said "Mommy".
A mother delights in watching you roll over for the first time.
A mother lets you touch bugs.
A mother lets you taste dirt.
A mother gives you pots to bang on with spoons and thinks you make beautiful music.
A mother teaches you not to pull on the kitty's tail or bite the puppy's ears.
A mother holds you when you are hurt and kisses your boo-boos.
A mother looks at a crayon drawing and declares it is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen as she puts it on the refrigerator.
A mother exclaims that you are growing "like a weed".
A mother thinks dandelions are the most beautiful flowers EVER.
A mother sees you through graduations and proms and driving lessons and weird haircuts and pierced ears and wet dreams and periods and friends who are being mean to you.
A mother buries pets in the back yard with you and gives you ice cream afterwards.
I was never a Mother to the child I gave away.
I never did any of these things with the child who went away from me after I made sure he had all his fingers and toes and was ABSOLUTELY PERFECT.
And I may never meet him this side of Heaven, and I'm resigned to that. I don't get maudlin and get drunk over it.
But I will admit that sometimes, like tonight, I stop and say a prayer for him, wherever he is, and I say to God, "Oh, please, just let him be HAPPY."
Because when it comes down to it, isn't that all we want for our kids? All we want for those that we love?
I think it is.
And for that Someone who is Somewhere Out There, here's a birthday song for you: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSyRFLlYnWI
Because I Know You're Out There Somewhere.
Happy 34th birthday. I hope it's a great one for you.
.
If you were adopted and born on 8/17/73, in Hinsdale, Illinois, you can get your original birth certificate from the state. And if, on that birth certificate, you see these names, Trojanowski or Trzos, then you can email me at <thebratland@yahoo.com>. I hope you find this site. I hope you email me. I'll be watching.
[The Boy, by the way, is a guy I met and lived with from 1998 to 2007.]
~August 17, 1973~
I am a mother.
OK... I'm a mother times TWO.
And maybe today is the day to talk about my first child. Because I have never hidden the fact that I had a child that I gave up for adoption.
When I first started talking to The Boy via Instant Messages, I told him about the fact that I had given a child [a boy] up for adoption when I was just a [wee] lassie.
Because when you've 'done that' you learn that some people think you are some kind of freak. I kid you not.
And before I became really good friends with The Boy I wanted to know right away if he thought I was some kind of freak.
He didn't.
So, we became friends.
You see, I never kept it a secret because I always wanted the child I gave birth to to be able to find me. And I foresaw the danger of keeping his existence a secret.
How would I have explained it to people otherwise?
That's not how I am.
If you want me, you take my baggage, too.
And I've been extremely blessed in that regard. I truly have not had one man walk out on me because of it. Either they are wonderful men, or [I'm rather more inclined to believe] I am an extraordinary woman.
Oh, yes I am.
But I digress.
Almost six years after giving birth to a boy, I gave birth to a daughter. And when she was old enough to really understand things, I let her know that I had given birth to a child with a different man and I had 'given him away' to people who could take care of him and give him things that I could not.
I must have done a superb job because my daughter never felt in danger of being 'given away' or abandoned, or any of that other shit that people tell you will happen to your kids.
My daughter is, at this writing, 28 years old. And if the boy I gave birth to knocked on my door tomorrow, no one in my life would say, "OH MY GOD YOU NEVER TOLD ME."
And The Boy would let him in and treat him like his own, or at least one of my family, and he would never raise an eyebrow.
And he would be happy for me.
Not that I lose sleep over this, folks. I don't.
While that baby was growing in my belly I kept telling myself that I was growing him for someone else because I KNEW that there was no way that I could give that child a decent life AT THE TIME.
And I knew, thanks to someone close to me [who shall remain nameless, although she knows who she is] that an adopted child is as loved as a child who is flesh and blood to the people adopting.
No, it wasn't an 'open adoption' although I knew the names of the people who adopted my child. [Notice I do not say 'my son'? I'll get back to that.]
When I got pregnant, I was a junior in high school. And BACK THEN, pregnant girls were not allowed to stay in school. So I didn't graduate high school.
Years later, when my daughter was a sophomore in high school, she was talking about dropping out of school, and I told her she couldn't.
And she said to me, "YOU DID!"
And although there were extenuating circumstances for me dropping out of school, I realized I had no excuse anymore.
So I got my G.E.D.
Then I got this crazy idea that maybe, just maybe, I COULD GO TO COLLEGE!
And I did.
Now, I'm not gonna get into college life except to say this: It got me onto the Interwebs. And I thought maybe, just maybe, I could put my info OUT THERE and make it easier for the child I had put up for adoption to find me.
And I've done that.
The bad part is that the really popular sites for adoptees looking for their birth parents are sites that make you pay a [hefty] yearly fee to keep your info on the site, and I've never been wealthy enough to be able to do that.
But I have found plenty of other sites and have 'registered' with them.
I just want to give him a chance if he is trying to find me.
Because there are, I'm sure, reasons to find me. Like the health history of his birth family.
But I don't call him My Son for a couple of reasons.
And some of those reasons are:
A mother is someone who changes your shitty diapers.
A mother is someone who sits up with you when you are sick and changes the sheets you puked on in the middle of the night.
A mother goes through the chicken pox with you.
A mother teaches you to tie your shoes.
A mother finds ways to teach you how to eat and like vegetables, even peas.
A mother cries when she sends you off to kindergarten.
A mother teaches you how to say "Daddy" when she would much rather you said "Mommy".
A mother delights in watching you roll over for the first time.
A mother lets you touch bugs.
A mother lets you taste dirt.
A mother gives you pots to bang on with spoons and thinks you make beautiful music.
A mother teaches you not to pull on the kitty's tail or bite the puppy's ears.
A mother holds you when you are hurt and kisses your boo-boos.
A mother looks at a crayon drawing and declares it is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen as she puts it on the refrigerator.
A mother exclaims that you are growing "like a weed".
A mother thinks dandelions are the most beautiful flowers EVER.
A mother sees you through graduations and proms and driving lessons and weird haircuts and pierced ears and wet dreams and periods and friends who are being mean to you.
A mother buries pets in the back yard with you and gives you ice cream afterwards.
I was never a Mother to the child I gave away.
I never did any of these things with the child who went away from me after I made sure he had all his fingers and toes and was ABSOLUTELY PERFECT.
And I may never meet him this side of Heaven, and I'm resigned to that. I don't get maudlin and get drunk over it.
But I will admit that sometimes, like tonight, I stop and say a prayer for him, wherever he is, and I say to God, "Oh, please, just let him be HAPPY."
Because when it comes down to it, isn't that all we want for our kids? All we want for those that we love?
I think it is.
And for that Someone who is Somewhere Out There, here's a birthday song for you: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSyRFLlYnWI
Because I Know You're Out There Somewhere.
Happy 34th birthday. I hope it's a great one for you.
.
No replies - reply
Don't Buy Into the Fear
~Don't Buy Into the Fear~
There's a dangerous movement in this country today. A movement so insidious that otherwise intelligent people are getting sucked into it without their knowing it's even happening.
It began somewhere after 9/11, when this country was gripped in fear that planes would be flown into more buildings and maybe even some pretty large bridges. For days we had NO airplanes in the air at all over our airspace. [Well, perhaps some military jets.]
Many of us sat outside, staring up at the clouds and marveling about the lack of planes 'up there'. But we 'understood'. We understood why people were stranded all over this country--no, all over the world.
Because we were afraid. And understandably so.
Then, because it seemed the right thing to do, we got angry. We got angry because Americans do NOT take kindly to being attacked on their home shores.
To show the solidarity of our anger, we flew flags from our front porches and our flagpoles. We put them on our cars and our trucks and our backpacks and our jackets. We were AMERICANS and we were damn well going to hunt down and bring to justice those who had the NERVE to plan and carry out this attack against us.
And in the days following 9/11, we identified these attackers. And we identified their religion. Because it seemed as though it was their religion that brought them to the place where they could sacrifice their own lives in the passion to terrify ours.
And terrify us it did. Because the kind of attacks perpetrated upon us were alien to us. We couldn't understand how someone could sacrifice their lives in a suicide attack upon us.
We had never known such hatred towards us, and we didn't like it. We didn't like it at all.
The trouble was, there were so many Americans who failed to discover that it wasn't the entire religion of the men flying the planes who were at fault here. We just lumped all of them under the same umbrella because that was the easiest thing to do.
Slowly, but surely, the hatred was settling in inside our hearts and wasn't feeling strange to us anymore. It felt 'safe' to hate these people. After all, look what THEY had done to us!
Secretly we enjoyed the fear we spread upon the people who proclaimed this 'alien religion' as theirs. It didn't matter if they were also Americans. What mattered now was what religion they were proclaiming as their own.
How funny that we forgot that the first settlers came here because they were seeking religious freedom.
They didn't want to worship the way a King told them they must. They felt they had a right to observe any religion they wished to, and worship God how they chose to. And in order to do so, they had to leave the countries of their birth and came here, to this land, America.
But for us, this is all grade school stuff. We started learning about this back in first grade, if not kindergarten. It's an old, old story to us now.
But in the 18th century, it was of such prime importance to the men who came together to form what would become the United States of America that they put it into the Bill of Rights. Because they felt that no one should ever be told that they couldn't go to whatever church or house of worship they wanted to. And that included the fact that if someone didn't want to worship at all, that was all right, too.
And they decided that it was also of prime importance that The State [meaning the government] and The Church [various houses of worship] be separated because they understood full well what happened to people when they were not. Had not the early settlers showed that?
Today, in this great country, there is a push on that we [The People] should declare this a Christian country. By God, that will keep those plane-flying suicidal jerks from getting a leg up on us again, won't it?
But you see, there's a couple of problems with that. And one is that there is not ONE Christian religion. There are many. And which one are we going to declare ourselves to be? I'm sure the Catholics would want it to be them, and surely the Methodists want it to be them, and then you have the Presbyterians and the Baptists, and... Well, I think you get the idea, don't you?
And what about those people that don't want to be Christian? Well, let's just FORCE them to convert, shall we? Won't THAT make us safe?
And what about those that don't want to believe in a God at all? Well, they MUST! Because if they don't, then they are obviously our enemies, and let's make them leave!
In fact, if ANYONE doesn't believe exactly the way we do, they are also enemies!
There. Doesn't that feel BETTER?
Doesn't that make you less FEARFUL?
Doesn't that help you sleep at night?
Well, if it does, it just means that you don't understand the situation.
Because what it means is that our Government is undermining our religious freedoms as spelled out in our Constitution and we are in seriously DEEP SHIT.
Already our President has suspended Habeus Corpus. This means that even though it was meant to help us 'get the bad guys' [heh], they can also arbitrarily call one of us a 'bad guy' and they can put us in a jail somewhere and when your lawyer calls and says, "What are the charges against my client?" THE GOVERNMENT DOESN'T HAVE TO TELL THEM. And they can keep you locked up as long as they want.
And you know why? Because the Government will probably make something up just so they can keep you off the streets and then WE CAN ALL FEEL SAFER.
But you trust the Government you say?
How can you, when it's been proven that our Government KNEW there were NO 'Weapons of Mass Destruction' in Iraq, but told us that anyway so they could go over there and 'get' Saddam Hussein? [We won't even get into that whole mess. Suffice to remember the LIES that took us there.]
And aren't our Government employees just the BEST? I'm not going to name names here; you can Google and find out what our representatives and our senators have been up to and some are still serving! [Seemingly only the worst are gone. And if you believe THAT, I have a bridge to sell you. Those are only the ones who have had the misfortune to be CAUGHT.]
All over this world, there are people still being persecuted for their beliefs. There are young girls being killed by their own families for talking to boys of other SECTS. [Same religion, some different beliefs.]
What do you think they would say to you from their graves if they could?
Wouldn't they tell you that religious freedom is one of the most important things we have here in the United States of America? That we can STILL be a shining beacon to a dark world. Not because of what religion we are, but because we are big enough to embrace ALL religions.
And we ARE big enough and we ARE People enough to keep it out of the hands of our Government so that America can still shine as a beacon to the world.
Because I, as an American who believes in God, believe that I have an inalienable right to worship my God however I choose. And I believe my neighbor has that same right, although he might believe that his God lives in trees. And I believe that my other neighbor has a right to believe that Science is God.
Because it is NOT our religions [or lack thereof] that makes us Americans.
It is our right to HAVE our own religions that we so cherish.
Do not fear those other religions.
Fear the people who would have those other religions taken away. THEY are the enemy.
And we elected them.
Remember, the Separation of Church and State is vitally important to America.
Don't forget.
And although I am just one tiny voice in the blogosphere, there are others out there who are saying this same thing, and probably saying it much better than I can.
Please visit http://blogagainsttheocracy.blogspot.com/ to read more about this subject.
To learn more about the issues of Church and State, please visit http://www.firstfreedomfirst.org/.
And after those, reread the Constitution of the United States and reread the Declaration of Independence.
They will make you proud to be an American all over again.
.
There's a dangerous movement in this country today. A movement so insidious that otherwise intelligent people are getting sucked into it without their knowing it's even happening.
It began somewhere after 9/11, when this country was gripped in fear that planes would be flown into more buildings and maybe even some pretty large bridges. For days we had NO airplanes in the air at all over our airspace. [Well, perhaps some military jets.]
Many of us sat outside, staring up at the clouds and marveling about the lack of planes 'up there'. But we 'understood'. We understood why people were stranded all over this country--no, all over the world.
Because we were afraid. And understandably so.
Then, because it seemed the right thing to do, we got angry. We got angry because Americans do NOT take kindly to being attacked on their home shores.
To show the solidarity of our anger, we flew flags from our front porches and our flagpoles. We put them on our cars and our trucks and our backpacks and our jackets. We were AMERICANS and we were damn well going to hunt down and bring to justice those who had the NERVE to plan and carry out this attack against us.
And in the days following 9/11, we identified these attackers. And we identified their religion. Because it seemed as though it was their religion that brought them to the place where they could sacrifice their own lives in the passion to terrify ours.
And terrify us it did. Because the kind of attacks perpetrated upon us were alien to us. We couldn't understand how someone could sacrifice their lives in a suicide attack upon us.
We had never known such hatred towards us, and we didn't like it. We didn't like it at all.
The trouble was, there were so many Americans who failed to discover that it wasn't the entire religion of the men flying the planes who were at fault here. We just lumped all of them under the same umbrella because that was the easiest thing to do.
Slowly, but surely, the hatred was settling in inside our hearts and wasn't feeling strange to us anymore. It felt 'safe' to hate these people. After all, look what THEY had done to us!
Secretly we enjoyed the fear we spread upon the people who proclaimed this 'alien religion' as theirs. It didn't matter if they were also Americans. What mattered now was what religion they were proclaiming as their own.
How funny that we forgot that the first settlers came here because they were seeking religious freedom.
They didn't want to worship the way a King told them they must. They felt they had a right to observe any religion they wished to, and worship God how they chose to. And in order to do so, they had to leave the countries of their birth and came here, to this land, America.
But for us, this is all grade school stuff. We started learning about this back in first grade, if not kindergarten. It's an old, old story to us now.
But in the 18th century, it was of such prime importance to the men who came together to form what would become the United States of America that they put it into the Bill of Rights. Because they felt that no one should ever be told that they couldn't go to whatever church or house of worship they wanted to. And that included the fact that if someone didn't want to worship at all, that was all right, too.
And they decided that it was also of prime importance that The State [meaning the government] and The Church [various houses of worship] be separated because they understood full well what happened to people when they were not. Had not the early settlers showed that?
Today, in this great country, there is a push on that we [The People] should declare this a Christian country. By God, that will keep those plane-flying suicidal jerks from getting a leg up on us again, won't it?
But you see, there's a couple of problems with that. And one is that there is not ONE Christian religion. There are many. And which one are we going to declare ourselves to be? I'm sure the Catholics would want it to be them, and surely the Methodists want it to be them, and then you have the Presbyterians and the Baptists, and... Well, I think you get the idea, don't you?
And what about those people that don't want to be Christian? Well, let's just FORCE them to convert, shall we? Won't THAT make us safe?
And what about those that don't want to believe in a God at all? Well, they MUST! Because if they don't, then they are obviously our enemies, and let's make them leave!
In fact, if ANYONE doesn't believe exactly the way we do, they are also enemies!
There. Doesn't that feel BETTER?
Doesn't that make you less FEARFUL?
Doesn't that help you sleep at night?
Well, if it does, it just means that you don't understand the situation.
Because what it means is that our Government is undermining our religious freedoms as spelled out in our Constitution and we are in seriously DEEP SHIT.
Already our President has suspended Habeus Corpus. This means that even though it was meant to help us 'get the bad guys' [heh], they can also arbitrarily call one of us a 'bad guy' and they can put us in a jail somewhere and when your lawyer calls and says, "What are the charges against my client?" THE GOVERNMENT DOESN'T HAVE TO TELL THEM. And they can keep you locked up as long as they want.
And you know why? Because the Government will probably make something up just so they can keep you off the streets and then WE CAN ALL FEEL SAFER.
But you trust the Government you say?
How can you, when it's been proven that our Government KNEW there were NO 'Weapons of Mass Destruction' in Iraq, but told us that anyway so they could go over there and 'get' Saddam Hussein? [We won't even get into that whole mess. Suffice to remember the LIES that took us there.]
And aren't our Government employees just the BEST? I'm not going to name names here; you can Google and find out what our representatives and our senators have been up to and some are still serving! [Seemingly only the worst are gone. And if you believe THAT, I have a bridge to sell you. Those are only the ones who have had the misfortune to be CAUGHT.]
All over this world, there are people still being persecuted for their beliefs. There are young girls being killed by their own families for talking to boys of other SECTS. [Same religion, some different beliefs.]
What do you think they would say to you from their graves if they could?
Wouldn't they tell you that religious freedom is one of the most important things we have here in the United States of America? That we can STILL be a shining beacon to a dark world. Not because of what religion we are, but because we are big enough to embrace ALL religions.
And we ARE big enough and we ARE People enough to keep it out of the hands of our Government so that America can still shine as a beacon to the world.
Because I, as an American who believes in God, believe that I have an inalienable right to worship my God however I choose. And I believe my neighbor has that same right, although he might believe that his God lives in trees. And I believe that my other neighbor has a right to believe that Science is God.
Because it is NOT our religions [or lack thereof] that makes us Americans.
It is our right to HAVE our own religions that we so cherish.
Do not fear those other religions.
Fear the people who would have those other religions taken away. THEY are the enemy.
And we elected them.
Remember, the Separation of Church and State is vitally important to America.
Don't forget.
And although I am just one tiny voice in the blogosphere, there are others out there who are saying this same thing, and probably saying it much better than I can.
Please visit http://blogagainsttheocracy.blogspot.com/ to read more about this subject.
To learn more about the issues of Church and State, please visit http://www.firstfreedomfirst.org/.
And after those, reread the Constitution of the United States and reread the Declaration of Independence.
They will make you proud to be an American all over again.
.
No replies - reply
What Makes You a Mother
Tomorrow is Mother's Day. I've technically been a mother since August of 1973. That's 35 years. If you do anything else for 35 years you are pretty much considered to be an expert in your field.
But Motherhood isn't like that. It doesn't matter how long you have actually been a mother; the longer you do it, the more you realize what you DON'T know.
When my daughter called to tell me that she and her husband were splitting up, I didn't know what to say except cry with her. All my years of mothering and all the things I had learned never taught me the answer to that one. But crying is a good answer, and my daughter appreciated my tears on her behalf.
When my daughter called to tell me that she and her husband were getting back together, I didn't know what to say. I realized, it was HER life and she would have to live with her decisions, just like I did. And so I told her that she had given me very happy news, and that, apparently, was the correct answer.
Sometimes, when mothers 'wing it', we get lucky.
But I was a mother before I had my daughter. In 1972 I was a frightened teenage girl who found herself pregnant. I had some very real decisions to make in a short time.
I knew that the chances of me and my child-to-be having a 'good' life were pretty slim, especially since the father of the baby was on a major career path at the local car wash. I knew, because the mother hormones were starting to kick in, that I wanted my child to have a chance to get all the good things from life that I probably wouldn't be able to give, considering how young I was.
So, I made the decision to give my baby up for adoption.
For the rest of my pregnancy I strove to do all the things to give the baby growing inside me the healthiest of starts. I ate healthy, took my doctor-prescribed vitamins, slept and exercised and even took Lamaze classes so he could enter the world without drugs.
I was 17 years old when he was born. I made sure he had all his fingers and toes and then I said good-bye to him.
But I learned very quickly that when you are a Mother, your heart never says good-bye. You may send your child to kindergarten, you may send your child to the military, you may even send your child to their chosen spouse, but in your heart, they are always there.
Even if you have sent them away to live with someone else.
Always loved, always sheltered, always cared for. In my heart.
Oh, we learn to go on, because that is what Mothers do. After all, there are still bills to pay and life to live. The ache in our hearts becomes another thing we learn to deal with, because that is what Mothers have been doing since Eve had the first child.
Then you become a Grandparent, and your heart wants to explode from the wonder and the joy of it all.
But this Mother's Day, just like all the rest of them since 1973, is going to find me contemplating the hole in my heart once again.
I'll talk joyfully on the phone to my daughter and my grandchildren, and I will proclaim that the cards and the flowers are the best ones I've ever gotten, because that is what Mothers do.
But when I am alone, when there is no one around to see me but maybe the cats, I will once again feel the achy place in my heart that I have lived with for 35 years.
And I will smile, because I know, even after all these years, that I still made the best decision that I could have for a baby boy I gave birth to.
Because, you know, that is what Mothers do.
And I am a Mother.
But Motherhood isn't like that. It doesn't matter how long you have actually been a mother; the longer you do it, the more you realize what you DON'T know.
When my daughter called to tell me that she and her husband were splitting up, I didn't know what to say except cry with her. All my years of mothering and all the things I had learned never taught me the answer to that one. But crying is a good answer, and my daughter appreciated my tears on her behalf.
When my daughter called to tell me that she and her husband were getting back together, I didn't know what to say. I realized, it was HER life and she would have to live with her decisions, just like I did. And so I told her that she had given me very happy news, and that, apparently, was the correct answer.
Sometimes, when mothers 'wing it', we get lucky.
But I was a mother before I had my daughter. In 1972 I was a frightened teenage girl who found herself pregnant. I had some very real decisions to make in a short time.
I knew that the chances of me and my child-to-be having a 'good' life were pretty slim, especially since the father of the baby was on a major career path at the local car wash. I knew, because the mother hormones were starting to kick in, that I wanted my child to have a chance to get all the good things from life that I probably wouldn't be able to give, considering how young I was.
So, I made the decision to give my baby up for adoption.
For the rest of my pregnancy I strove to do all the things to give the baby growing inside me the healthiest of starts. I ate healthy, took my doctor-prescribed vitamins, slept and exercised and even took Lamaze classes so he could enter the world without drugs.
I was 17 years old when he was born. I made sure he had all his fingers and toes and then I said good-bye to him.
But I learned very quickly that when you are a Mother, your heart never says good-bye. You may send your child to kindergarten, you may send your child to the military, you may even send your child to their chosen spouse, but in your heart, they are always there.
Even if you have sent them away to live with someone else.
Always loved, always sheltered, always cared for. In my heart.
Oh, we learn to go on, because that is what Mothers do. After all, there are still bills to pay and life to live. The ache in our hearts becomes another thing we learn to deal with, because that is what Mothers have been doing since Eve had the first child.
Then you become a Grandparent, and your heart wants to explode from the wonder and the joy of it all.
But this Mother's Day, just like all the rest of them since 1973, is going to find me contemplating the hole in my heart once again.
I'll talk joyfully on the phone to my daughter and my grandchildren, and I will proclaim that the cards and the flowers are the best ones I've ever gotten, because that is what Mothers do.
But when I am alone, when there is no one around to see me but maybe the cats, I will once again feel the achy place in my heart that I have lived with for 35 years.
And I will smile, because I know, even after all these years, that I still made the best decision that I could have for a baby boy I gave birth to.
Because, you know, that is what Mothers do.
And I am a Mother.
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