I always knew that I wanted to be a mother.
I am the oldest of five children. I am a
Mormon, families are central to my religion. I was raised in a small farming community where having a large family is the norm. I was constantly forcing my siblings and cousins to play house and
learn from me (I use the term
learn very loosely). When I was old enough, I started baby-sitting. I have just always wanted to play that role, of mother, from the time that I was very small. I knew that I wanted at least 6 kids.
My favorite part of growing up on a ranch was seeing small, helpless animals come every spring and to observe them grow and become strong. Watching birth was an adrenaline rush for me. Helping to care for animals whose mothers were too sick, had died or rejected them was something that gave me the greatest feeling. For years I wanted to be a veterinarian.
However, growing up I nurtured this fallacy that I was broken and no one would love me enough to marry me and want to create a family with me. I had seizures, I was different. So, I then decided that I was going to be one of those ladies who adopted a bunch of children who were not wanted by their mothers. I became a social worker and started my career with adoption and foster care. I always knew that if there was a way, eventually I was going to become a mother.
I progressed in my career and with my job I became the legal guardian for 15 teenage girls at a time. I was going to mother all of the helpless souls out there, even just by pointing them in the right direction. Not bringing them all home like stray animals, but by being a guiding force in their life. Eventually I worked my way through a myriad of positions, all involving taking care of people. Giving them advice in stressful situations, guiding them through complicated processes. Comforting them when they were sick and hurt. Helping to make their life better in some small way. Helping their family members to understand how to say good-bye and coaching them on how to grieve. I continued to tell myself in the back of my mind that I was not going to have the chance to become a mother and so I needed to find other ways to nurture my mother's heart, because the desire was still strong. My job was a lot like being a parent. Not a lot of thanks, but occasionally there was a big pay-off when you knew that
you had made a difference in someones life.
Life moved on and I realized that I am not broken and had every opportunity out there that anyone else does. I got married and a few months after I found out that my biggest dream was coming true. I was pregnant...and
I was going to be a mother. I was going to have the chance to create something so precious and then guide it on this journey called life. I was going to give this baby knowledge, fun, character and lots and lots of love. I would give them brothers and sisters too! They were all going to have quality educations, get married if they wanted to and then give me grandchildren. I was thrilled and already planning skits for family reunions!
Cole came and taught me lessons about motherhood and parenting that I never thought I would have to know. He has made me more than a mother. I am also a pharmacist, advocate, insurance negotiator, exemplary laundress, fundraiser, lawyer, nurse, specialty chef, play-doh expert and singer of television songs among other things. He will never have the opportunity to get married or make me a grandma, but he taught me that I can be a mother. A really good one. I believe that motherhood can be a calling and is very spiritual. I sometimes feel like I have tried to move heaven and earth to give him every opportunity possible, because he is
worth it. So even though he is not a typical child and can not give me
all of those things that we want from our children, he has given me a gift. I feel so grateful that he gives me the chance to re-invent myself every day.
It's during times like these though, the holidays, where my mother's heart gets blue. I have fond memories of childhood, laced with laughter at family gatherings and steeped in tradition. Each and every holiday was spent surrounded by family...lots of it. I have 32 cousins just on one side! I know that when I am older, my special occasions will not look the same as those from my youth. There will be no gathering at grandpa's for blueberry pancakes on Christmas morning. No taking my posterity camping, or on hikes in the desert or to Disneyland. They are most likely to be small, quiet affairs and not the rambunctious, crowded celebrations that I crave.
In a few weeks it will have been a year since I had to make the hardest decision of my life. It was not about a college, a job or even marriage. It was to have a small procedure that would prevent me from becoming a mother, naturally, again. It was the right thing to do, to protect my health and to not pass on my genetic mutation. Brian and I did not take this lightly. We prayed about it, discussed it and asked doctor's opinions. Still, I must admit that this past year has been filled with grieving for this loss. I rarely speak of it and did not even tell my parents until after the procedure. It was a personal decision between my husband, me and the Lord. I have never mentioned it on the blog, but I want to shed a little light on the inner turmoil that has been brewing beneath the surface.
Even though there are some flaws in my DNA, I am genetically programed as a woman to want to multiply and replenish. I can not stop my heart from aching for children. So over this last year I have had to learn how to be happy for family and friends who are moving on with their lives and families. I have had to learn how to not feel hot jealousy towards pregnant women and to enjoy their announcements of impending additions. I had to repent from hating the
Duggar mom for being able to have 20 healthy kids :) I have to steer clear of the maternity and baby sections in the stores and just occasionally burst into tears to let it all out. Sometimes it is hard knowing that the only way to get another child is through a lot of money and more than a little luck. It doesn't mean that I am ungrateful for the opportunity I had in the first place to become a mother, just that I grieve that my future will not be quite like I had planned it. Again, I am being taught that nothing really never works out the way I want, but probably the way it is supposed to. Our parents will age and our siblings will start doing things with their growing families and life will move on. It just won't be quite like I had dreamed with small bundles to snuggle and then send on play dates and beyond. Gathering and continuing traditions that I have enjoyed for a lifetime. Hopefully, we can keep Cole for a while, but we both know that eventually we will be alone. Maybe we can start going to Hawaii for Christmas? :)
I know that miracles happen. My dreams of 6+ children have morphed into two, maybe three. Maybe someday, our
Ava will come along. Maybe, we will find an egg donor, or there will be some crazy genetic tests that come out (that are semi-affordable) to help make sure that all of my random mutations will not be passed along. There is still hope. Hope that one day I can be a soccer mom, or attend my child's college graduation, pass down my favorite recipes, be the mother of the bride or go to my grand kids piano recital. We are just going to have to be a modern family...and that's okay. But it doesn't mean that my heart is not going to continue to wish for more opportunities to mother. Until then, I will cherish my two baby boys. The really hairy one (Slugger) and, the not-so-hairy one, my precious Nicolas Grant.
