Paisley's Journal
May 12, 2002

The Adventures of Paisley Blue Another Mother's Day... another mother's day and I am not a mother. Somehow after all these years you think I'd grow used to that. I have accepted this at times, but in recent weeks the thought of being a mother has again filled my mind and heart. I thought that today I would just share some of my thoughts on motherhood... things I think about... because they are certainly not things I speak about -- at least not very often. When I was 18 and still in my first year of marriage to my first husband, we both wanted to start a family. In a way, it was also expected because we were a young Mormon couple and that's what young Mormon couples do. When we seriously started trying to conceive, we were living in Salt Lake City - Mormon mecca. No better place to raise a family, right? Oh, I would get pregnant, but I would miscarry right away. In general, I always lost my babies at about one month along. Sometimes I did not know I was pregnant before I lost it. However, over the years, I have certainly improved my communication with my body and I can tell when I am pregnant, usually within 2-3 weeks of conception. So nowadays that gives me just enough time to wonder... maybe even buy one of those home pregnancy kits and find out that I'm pregnant before I lose the baby. But back then, when I was first starting the path of attempted motherhood, I did not know all that. I had already lost one baby, but everyone around me assured me that was not unusual. I was young and healthy and surely the Lord would see fit to bless me with a child. I prepared for motherhood, too. Despite our rather meager lifestyle and low income, I was determined that my baby would not do without. If that meant preparing in advance, I was ready to do that. Everytime we got a paycheck, I would spend at least a small portion on baby stuff. Within a few months, I had a crib and a bassinet, a changing table fully stocked, a set of shelves full of clothes from newborn through toddler sizes, blankets, bottles, food warmers, tiny nail clippers and soft brushes, towels, pacifiers, booties and shoes and hats and mittens... I was ready to have that baby! But I kept losing the babies as quickly as I got pregnant with them. This got to be very painful, but we persevered. We did not know anything about going to fertility specialists to find out what was wrong. I secretly blamed myself for my inability to stay pregnant. We prayed harder. It wasn't meant to be... In the 18 years since that time, I have lost more than a dozen babies. For a while it seems like I kinda went dead inside, hollowed out from the hurt. I told myself and everyone around me that God just didn't want me to be a mother in this life. People who knew me, and my problems, tried to comfort me by saying that perhaps God knew what a hard time I was already having, and being a mother would just be too much for me to bear. Not to mention my low pain tolerance and multiple health problems - could I even survive a pregnancy? These kinds of questions have been tossed around a lot over the last five or six years. Maybe my inability to have a child is actually saving my life, people would say. The hunger for a child would come and go... and then it was gone for a long, long time. I took comfort in the births of my nieces and nephews and I spoiled them rotten every chance I got. I felt a huge reservoir of love for other people's children. Sometimes I could see in the mothers' eyes their sympathy and pity for me, though. I never commented on it; they never spoke their thoughts aloud -- and I was able to go on. Now I've been through four husbands and had miscarried babies by three of them. Each of those men handled the losses in different ways. I used to think their reaction to the loss was a mirror of how much they cared about me. I'm starting to think that's not exactly accurate. I'm starting to believe that the way each person grieves is totally distinct and unique, and not a reflection on me. So here I am in the 21st century... contemplating my status on another Mother's Day... no one will be bringing me flowers today. If my first baby had lived, she would be an adult - about 20 years old - of an age to conceivably provide me with at least one grandchild. That thought sure puts a lot in perspective. Makes me think of the gray hairs I have hidden beneath the red dye. Makes me think of my own mother and the delight she finds with her grandchildren. And now... I think about trying again to have a child. I believe I am able to conceive, still. I have more knowledge about my body and my health problems... I even spoke with my doctor about this subject a couple days ago. She told me if I think about trying to have kids, I'll need to see a specialist right off the bat to get me off the oral medications for my diabetes, and get onto insulin. Something about the pills would harm an unborn child or something. Whatever it was, whatever it takes, I would do it. And yes, a certain special someone and I have discussed having children together. Someone whom I know in my heart would be the best daddy ever... and so now the baby hunger has returned, stronger than ever before. I wonder if that is partially because now I am nearing the age where it's now-or-never time. I think I would be a good mother. Of course, how do you really know until you are...? But I am patient and full of love and want to provide a safe, nurturing environment for a child to develop. If I had a child, I would do my best to teach her everything I know so that hopefully she can avoid some of the painful lessons I've been through. Just the same, though, I know that pain and mistakes are ways that we learn and she would have to go through her own... I'd just make sure I was there to hug her and tell her I love her, and encourage her to go forward. I would want to pass along my beliefs that everyday is an adventure, that there is always something to be learned, and that joy is all around us if we open ourselves up to it. I would want to pass along tolerance and open-mindedness, a strong sense of self worth, a hardy work ethic, and a reverence for the earth and the universe around us. I would want to watch her grow up and become a young woman, and eventually complete the circle by having a child of her own. I know that's a part of the mother-daughter relationship that I am missing with my own mother, and it hurts. I've seen that my mother and my sister share that special bond... saw it when my oldest niece was born... and I was not included in that circle by simple failure on my part to be able to deliver a child. I know that even if I were to adopt a child, it would get all the love in my heart and be fully accepted by my extended family. Adoption would not in any way lessen the strength of family bond... and it is a path I have considered many times since I have not been able to bear my own child. My sister has even offered to be a surrogate mother for me. She has no difficulty getting pregnant or delivering the newborns... at least, not until this last one when she developed a hernia during the pregnancy. After the child was born, the hernia was repaired. I love her so much for even offering. But all things fair and equal, I would like - at least once in my life - to conceive, carry, and deliver my own baby... hopefully with a man who loves me and who would love our child and be there, the whole time, from start to... well... there is no finish. Just be there. So I think about everyone I know who is sitting in church today as freshly scrubbed young faces pass out flowers or potted plants to the mothers in the congregations. I think of the mothers I know whose children will probably try to deliver a breakfast in bed with a homemade card or a flower in a vase. I think of one of my coworkers who had her first child just about two weeks ago... and how her husband is going to lavish attention on her today in ways I cannot even imagine. Please don't think I am bitter or jealous or mean-spirited about this... I am not, and I hope my words do not convey that. Sometimes, though, when women talk about this topic, that's what others think. Well, I don't really care what others think right now. I'm just recording my feelings and thoughts. I just want to belong to the millenia-old tradition of motherhood, the cycle that keeps the race alive, the most intimate of bonds between two people on earth. I don't know if there's some kind of genetic tripwire that somehow gets sprung every now and then, or if it's a hormonal thing. I guess it could be that because thoughts of motherhood are strongest when I'm on my moontime, like I am now. Whatever it is, it's the deepest, most buried and persistent desire that's ever pulsed through my body. Whether or not I ever have a child, I acknowledge the desire that burns through me... I acknowledge the mother that I would be... I acknowledge the sacred relationship between mother and child... I acknowledge the aching hunger to be part of that eternal chain of life. Happy Mother's Day to me. ~Paisley Blue

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