I ran away from home when I was 15 years old and checked myself into a group home for homeless kids. Even though I was young I knew enough to know my mom wasn't normal, that she was sick. I fought long and hard to be taken seriously, social workers saw my good grades and behavior, that I didnt do drugs, had a steady boyfriend on the football team... and they thought I was just throwing a hissy fit. A spoiled child. My mother was very good acting and could have been a politician if she wanted to be. Social workers fell for her lines and many times I was nearly shoved back into an abusive home. But I fought. And I fought some more. Finally I found a youth worker who recognized and acknowledged the emotional/psychological abuse I had suffered and she started to fight for me. I was placed into a foster home and lived there until I was of age to move out on my own.
Turns out that naive little 15 year old me was smarter then most social workers. My mother was admitted to the psychiatric ward and it was finally acknowledged she wasn't fit to raise children (she didnt stay there long, but that is another story). That didn't feel like any sort of victory for me in any way. It only made it harder. Any hopes or dreams I had of one day having a "normal family" were shattered and my self esteem was along with it.
So without going into a long story....believe me I could write a book about all of the shit I got myself into...I grew up without a solid female role model and was pretty messed up for a long time because of it. For a young girl, growing up without a mother (or with a neglectful one) is really hard. Tragically hard to be honest. So I think it goes without saying that I never liked mothers day. I avoided it like the bubonic plague, usually wound up really drunk at some bar pretending I didnt care when on the inside I was crying. Not fun. I don't recommend it. For years I vowed I would never have children. I was too afraid that I would hurt them the way I was hurt. Afraid I would have a daughter and disappoint her the way I was disappointed....but I dreamed.
Oh I dreamed alright, I just never told anyone my dreams. But I dreamt of having a little girl. Of hugs, cuddles, kisses, picnics, dress up games, running around in angel wings laughing in the sunshine. Making pancakes together for breakfast in the morning, sewing her cute dresses and brushing her hair. I dreamed all right. I never told anyone though, and I certainly didn't think the dream would ever come true. But I dreamed of having a girl and giving her all the love I never got.
And then one day I pee'd on a stick.
And my whole world changed in less then 2 minutes.
And so this brings us to today, 36 weeks pregnant and its mothers day...but this time it isn't about her. It isn't about the hurt she caused me. Or the hurt her mother caused her. It is about "MOTHERS". Mothers around the world, including me, just doing the best they can. It is about my unspoken dreams coming true, of the child I feel kicking and growing inside of me. Its about the love I already feel for this child. The fierce drive to protect and nourish a child I haven't even seen yet.
This mothers day is all about love, and the potential to create more love. And that is pretty freaking awesome
Happy Mothers Day to all of you mamma's out there....those with babes in arms, grown children living on their own, and those of you who are a mamma to a cuddly fuzzy friend too! My kitties love their mamma :)