Monday - A Blessing Too Many
Jul. 17th, 2006 03:26 pmToday on my drive into work, I was thinking about my status growing up as the first of two blessing too many.
I was not planned. When my mother was younger and could not get pregnant, her doctor diagnosed her as infertile. This caused her to pray for children. Unlike most of my own prayers, she got a positive response (times 4). After giving up and making plans to adopt, she discovered that my oldest brother was on the way. He was born in 1961, when she was 28. Three years later, my middle brother arrived. Two was plenty, my parents thought. My mother considered them both miracles, and never worried about contraception. While it seems obvious to me looking back that the drought was over, it apparently never occurred to her until later.
When she found out that I was on the way, she felt chagrined, but accepting. Maybe she would get a girl to balance out her brood. I was born 3 days after her 37th birthday. Today, this is not a big deal. In 1969, she was kind of a novelty; all of the other women in the maternity ward were in their teens and twenties. As chagrined as she was about me, she was positively aghast to learn that my brother would be born 16 months behind me. By this point, she was very aware that the drought was over and she needed an umbrella, but her doctor told her that until I was weaned, she need not worry about it. Little did he know. Fool her once, shame on you, but she wasn't about to be fooled a 5th time. As soon as my brother was born, she got a tubal ligation.
"When you ask the Lord for blessings," she always told everyone, "you have to make sure to tell him when to stop."
We took this observation from my plainspoken mother in stride. She didn't say this to hurt my brother or me. We may have been two blessings too many, but we never doubted that we were still blessings.
"But you love me anyway, don't you?" I would ask.
"Yes," she agreed, "Of course I do."
"Good," I would say, and go about my business of drawing her a picture or playing with my toys.
"I have friends who have grandchildren your age," she sometimes pointed out.
"So?"
"So, it means I'm too damned old to be your mother." She always wanted to write a book some day, after the kids were out of the house. She always wanted to travel. She longed for quiet time for herself, which was not easy to come by between two teenagers and two kids in grade school. I think she was torn between her love for us and her desires to do things just for herself, to be her own person.
"I don't care," I told her. I didn't, either. I thought the younger parents of my friends seemed kind of silly and lacking in life experience. I didn't mind that my parents were older. They seemed a lot smarter for it. When I got older I added, "You're stuck with us, now."
"I guess I don't mind," she said. The conversation always ended with a hug and a kiss.
Jeff is shocked that I had these talks with her. To him, it implied that I was not wanted. However, I never doubted that I was wanted and loved. I was a bonus blessing. My kid brother was an extra-double-bonus blessing. Sometimes too much of a good thing can drive you to complain. She apparently needed to get this off of her chest once in a while.
My mother was not a perfect mother. She got frustrated. She felt overwhelmed sometimes. On some days she felt imposed upon by everything that was expected of her as a mother. I also have plenty of memories of her rising to the occasion and being outstanding in the field of things maternal.
Oddly, though, I take comfort in my memories of her at those times when she was so human, so imperfect. I'm not a perfect mother, either. I don't have her here to reassure me that this is all right. Instead, I have memories of her that let me know that if she could do this, then so can I. It's it's okay to be imperfect. I know this doesn't make me any less blessed, or make my son any less of a blessing.
I was not planned. When my mother was younger and could not get pregnant, her doctor diagnosed her as infertile. This caused her to pray for children. Unlike most of my own prayers, she got a positive response (times 4). After giving up and making plans to adopt, she discovered that my oldest brother was on the way. He was born in 1961, when she was 28. Three years later, my middle brother arrived. Two was plenty, my parents thought. My mother considered them both miracles, and never worried about contraception. While it seems obvious to me looking back that the drought was over, it apparently never occurred to her until later.
When she found out that I was on the way, she felt chagrined, but accepting. Maybe she would get a girl to balance out her brood. I was born 3 days after her 37th birthday. Today, this is not a big deal. In 1969, she was kind of a novelty; all of the other women in the maternity ward were in their teens and twenties. As chagrined as she was about me, she was positively aghast to learn that my brother would be born 16 months behind me. By this point, she was very aware that the drought was over and she needed an umbrella, but her doctor told her that until I was weaned, she need not worry about it. Little did he know. Fool her once, shame on you, but she wasn't about to be fooled a 5th time. As soon as my brother was born, she got a tubal ligation.
"When you ask the Lord for blessings," she always told everyone, "you have to make sure to tell him when to stop."
We took this observation from my plainspoken mother in stride. She didn't say this to hurt my brother or me. We may have been two blessings too many, but we never doubted that we were still blessings.
"But you love me anyway, don't you?" I would ask.
"Yes," she agreed, "Of course I do."
"Good," I would say, and go about my business of drawing her a picture or playing with my toys.
"I have friends who have grandchildren your age," she sometimes pointed out.
"So?"
"So, it means I'm too damned old to be your mother." She always wanted to write a book some day, after the kids were out of the house. She always wanted to travel. She longed for quiet time for herself, which was not easy to come by between two teenagers and two kids in grade school. I think she was torn between her love for us and her desires to do things just for herself, to be her own person.
"I don't care," I told her. I didn't, either. I thought the younger parents of my friends seemed kind of silly and lacking in life experience. I didn't mind that my parents were older. They seemed a lot smarter for it. When I got older I added, "You're stuck with us, now."
"I guess I don't mind," she said. The conversation always ended with a hug and a kiss.
Jeff is shocked that I had these talks with her. To him, it implied that I was not wanted. However, I never doubted that I was wanted and loved. I was a bonus blessing. My kid brother was an extra-double-bonus blessing. Sometimes too much of a good thing can drive you to complain. She apparently needed to get this off of her chest once in a while.
My mother was not a perfect mother. She got frustrated. She felt overwhelmed sometimes. On some days she felt imposed upon by everything that was expected of her as a mother. I also have plenty of memories of her rising to the occasion and being outstanding in the field of things maternal.
Oddly, though, I take comfort in my memories of her at those times when she was so human, so imperfect. I'm not a perfect mother, either. I don't have her here to reassure me that this is all right. Instead, I have memories of her that let me know that if she could do this, then so can I. It's it's okay to be imperfect. I know this doesn't make me any less blessed, or make my son any less of a blessing.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-17 09:18 pm (UTC)Sometimes I feel because that I'm 26 and still very child-like, that I'm more sisterly than motherly to Riley. But then I'm comforted to know that he'll have the best of both worlds since his dad is 41 and experienced at this parent thing.
Thank you for sharing this. Your mother sounds like she was a wonderful woman.
she got a tubal ligation.
Date: 2006-07-17 09:19 pm (UTC)of course i am of the opinion that my parents never made the connection between sex and children,...;)
no subject
Date: 2006-07-17 09:33 pm (UTC)When my mom was in her 40s, after she was done having children, a doctor told her it was practically a miracle that she had children and that he used her as an example for women struggling with reduced fertility. This was a surprise to my mother; For whatever reason no doctor had ever mentioned to my mother that she had fertility problems.
I take comfort in my memories of her at those times when she was so human, so imperfect.
What a beautiful line! I hope someday when I have children they'll feel the same way.
You're not the only one...
Date: 2006-07-17 09:33 pm (UTC)I think it's because she is almost certainly schizophrenic but she used to tell me, she wanted all of us (all 7) except one, there was one she resented the whole time she was pregnant...guess who it was? Me.
What is strange is I was the 2nd. But I do know...the second one more than the first you do realize what you are getting into and there might be some dread at starting over.
She always says she knows exactly when I came about because it's the one night...they didn't try to prevent pregnancy.
So anyways...apparently your story and mine show that even married women may not be ready for a pregnancy (I always thought it was more likely with unmarried teens.)
And we can go on:)
Maria
Re: You're not the only one...
Date: 2006-07-17 10:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-17 10:29 pm (UTC)I can relate!!!
no subject
Date: 2006-07-17 10:46 pm (UTC)Re: she got a tubal ligation.
Date: 2006-07-17 10:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-17 10:54 pm (UTC)I think doctors are wrong about a lot of things, they just don't like to admit it. Your mom's fertility was one of them. Obviously, they were wrong about my mom's fertility, too. Wrong to the power of 4...
Re: You're not the only one...
Date: 2006-07-17 11:06 pm (UTC)My kid brother and I may have been two more than my mother thought she could handle, but we were never more than she could love. I always had faith in her love for me...and that makes a real difference. Like I said, I was always a blessing, even if I was more blessing than she asked for.
No child should ever feel unwanted. It was never you, Maria. It was her and only her. You deserved to feel as loved and wanted as any child.
I started so late, because thought I couldn't do it (too much medical risk, etc.) but I've rissen to the occasion and am muddling through just fine. It's an amazing thing to do, watching a new human grow up. Thinking about it never fails to take my breath away... :)
no subject
Date: 2006-07-17 11:09 pm (UTC)Re: You're not the only one...
Date: 2006-07-17 11:19 pm (UTC)I don't blame my mom for feeling...overwhelmed with 7 children but I really don't understand why she had 7. It was her choice, my dad thought less would be better (though he loved each of us as we came along) but I don't understand why she wanted 7 when we apparently frusterated her a lot.
It's something I think about. My husband wants a big family but I am thinking this 3rd I am pregnant with is ALL. I want to be a good mom, not so overwhelmed and tired, we just "somehow make it" (though we all have days like that.)
Part of what was hard I am sure is my oldest brother is now 30 and my youngest sister is 11. So many different ages!
Maria
no subject
Date: 2006-07-17 11:28 pm (UTC)Re: You're not the only one...
Date: 2006-07-17 11:32 pm (UTC)If 3 kids is your preferred limit, I think 3 kids is the right number for you. They are a joy, but also a lot of work and responsibility. I have a sister-in-law who told my brother after the 3rd one that he could have a 4th one if he wanted, but he would have to figure out a way to get pregnant himself because she was finished having babies.
They still only have 3.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-17 11:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 03:04 am (UTC)Not exactly a mystery...
Date: 2006-07-18 03:11 am (UTC)Which made life with her interesting. I believe in God, I believe He CAN speak but I don't think it's as common as mom does. And like my dad says, if God said it, it will come true, if it doesn't, did God say it?
Anyways, she believes the Bible points to the fact "Children are a blessing" etc so one should never try to prevent a blessing. I feel a little split over it but I do feel more responsible for my 3 children that exist (though one is not yet born) than for those who may never exist (not yet conceived.)
I guess one should admire her for following her beliefs I just don't see why one would continue when you don't see good results. I mean, hopefully, my younger siblings had it better but when there were 5-7 of us living at home, it got pretty...crazy at times.
I just, I want better for my kids and hope I can provide that. Like you say about your mom, I am not perfect either but like you also said, I want my kids to always feel loved and wanted. Sometimes anyone gets irritated but I hope overall they know how much I love them everyday.
It's a big goal for me.
Maria
no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 04:06 am (UTC)"So?"
"So, it means I'm too damned old to be your mother."
I giggled at those lines. My husband is 46 and I'm 42 we have a 3 year old and we're contemplating adopting again in the next few years. ::shakes head:: I know that Sarah will most definitely have the oldest parents in her class and she'll probably hear both of us eventually say that we have friends with grandchildren and that we're way to old to be her parents. :D I'm certain she'll agree and go about her merry way. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 10:31 am (UTC)He's determined to be sure our child knows he's not an oops or uh-oh or wasn't planned. I don't think it's something he needs to know right away, but I'm sure eventually he'll find out the entire (sordid) story.
Re: Not exactly a mystery...
Date: 2006-07-18 04:41 pm (UTC)As the earth's population reached the 6 billion point, God gave us the technology of effective forms of contraception to control our fertility. I think this isn't just a coincidence. We have the free will and intelligence to decide when our plate is full. I believe it is more sinful to bring children into the world that one is ill equipped to take care of (be it financially or emotionally).
If your heart and mind tells you that 3 is what you can handle, don't let anyone tell you different. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 04:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 04:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 04:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 04:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 05:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 05:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 05:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 06:06 pm (UTC)I'm not a perfect mother, either. I don't have her here to reassure me that this is all right. Instead, I have memories of her that let me know that if she could do this, then so can I. It's it's okay to be imperfect.
I think I have perfection issues because I'm so critical of my Mom as a mom. I still feel like she really screwed up, and that my life, my sister's and my nephew's could have been so much better. My Mom's still here, but she doesn't make me feel reassured that I'm doing alright. But I do agree that if she could do this, then so can I. But I'm set on doing it WAY BETTER than she, and that puts a lot of pressure on me as well.
Sorry for the rant. And thanks for your words :)
no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 06:47 pm (UTC)It's easy to put the dead on a pedestal and remember them as saints. I believe that my mom was remarkable in a lot of ways, but I also try to remember her as human. She was strong, funny, intelligent and loving, but she was also sarcastic, impatient and did not suffer fools easily. She was quick to offer comfort, but she also had a short temper. She lived by a high moral standard and could be intolerant of anyone who lived by a lesser one. She loved her children, though. She told us that we could do things that might make her not like us, but that she would never stop loving us, no matter what we did.
I can't say that she and I would not have had conflicts if she were still alive. She held strong opinions, and so do I. But I want to remember all of her, the good and the bad. If I forget her flaws, then I am holding onto an incomplete memory. It would be like removing half the pages from the book of her life (which was too short to begin with).
Some mothers are inspirations that you aspire to emulate, and some are only inspirations to do better than they did. Either way, you love their good points, forgive their bad, and take their pearls of wisdom that they offer you (either because they are wise, or because they offer up an example of what to avoid).
no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 08:40 pm (UTC)