Sunday, May 13, 2012

The Round Peg-Square Holed Mother

Many people, mine own children most namely, I think, forget that I am a mother, and forget that I too have children. I had my children when I was a young adult.  I was 19 when I found out I was pregnant with my first child. IT came as a shock to me as much as it did the rest of my family. I honestly didn’t know how I got pregnant. It was my first time with him and being the baby people sheltered me so much, no one really explained the “birds and the bees” to me.

I didn’t want to rush into marriage just because was with child so we waited. My son was born in March and then in June of that year when I was 20 years of age, we wed. I had a horrible pregnancy, all sorts of issues and then a horrible labor. Seventeen hours, emergency C section, he came out blue, rushed to the hospital in another town and I had to stay where I was. I didn’t get to see him or hold him until he was almost two weeks old. I still say that that is why to this say we are so distant.

In the following year in an effort to try and raise funds on our struggling house, I joined the National Guard. I was assigned the 187th Med Unit in Boone, Iowa. From September to January of 1991 I went every weekend and learned about Flight Operations and helped out around the facility. 

In January I left for Fort Jackson, South Carolina, I passed MEPS fine but not but a few days after I got there I wasn’t feeling well. I knew right away I was pregnant. They didn’t believe me and I ended up with a drill sergeant in my face instead of help. I was in tears most of the following nights and was rewarded with a blanket party by my bunk mates.

Because of this, they moved me to a special barracks with others also in danger. They made me see a counselor but no one would give me a pregnancy test. They sent me home on a Chapter 11 and said as far as they were concerned I was never there. I said ok.

Five days later I saw my doctor and confirmed, Yep, I was pregnant just over a month. Nine months and many more complications in this one, the doctor had me sign a release that sign I could sign to have my tubes tied in the event of any issues that he didn’t think my body could handle it.

Here I was 21 years old and I was signing away my right pretty much to have any more kids. I did it though because at the time I never thought I would be with anyone but my first husband so why not. I also had such horrible complications, I really didn’t think my body could take it anymore either.

The surgery was treacherous. The batch of anesthesia was bad and they had to shoot locals in my stomach to get me through. Needless to say, they tied my tubes. 

For many reasons, I shall not mention my first husband and I divorced. One of those was issues with my mothering his idea of it and mine. I was young and really did the best I could. On top of that I had in laws who continually told me how awful of a mother I was and how much better of a job they could do than I could. 

Through the years of my children growing up, sadly I missed out on a a lot of their years. I fought for visitation, custody, and many times I had to fight for simple rights like the ability to see them on their birthday or mine and I even had to fight for the right for them to call me on Mother’s Day.

This is why Mother’s Day come often with so much sorrow and heartache for me. Here I was and am, a person who went through hell physically to have her children, yet I didn’t know get to raise them or be a part of their lives. I had to fight for every right a mother normally gets to have. I didn’t have the things most mothers have…

I always felt like a round peg in a square hole...I am a mother, without her children...a bear without her cubs

There were times I lived close by and was able to have some of the things for a a short time but sadly they often got ripped away from me. Or I had the kids for summers and tried to be the best mom I could at summer and spring break and pack in all the things I wanted to be for them that other moms got to do all the time…

Make them lunches, take them to the beach, hang out at the pool, play ball, play board games, play video games with them, take them and their friends to a dance or some cool event, be the “cool mom”, meet their dates, teach them to drive, be in their life.

The list could go on for says and if you have ever read or looked back at my blogs or Poetry blogs you either have or can see my pain in this endeavor. It is hard. They were told all their life that I didn’t care, that I didn’t love them, that I abandoned them, yet the completely opposite was true. But the past is past and I have tried to move forward. They are boys and they are 22 and 20 now.

I let them live their life and I live mine. I am young and youthful and at times this bothers them. I think they would prefer a Grandma-ish Mother rather than a mom who looks and acts young and fun, but I am me and will continue to be me and who I am.

There are many times I have thought about having other children if someone wanted them, but I know in my heart, I get scared. What if the next guys family is mean to me too? What if  it doesn't work out again? I could play the what if game forever. It breaks my heart that someone would leave me for the that that I wouldn't WANT children. It isn't that. It isn't that at all. It is my unceasing fear of having more children and what all that would mean and entail.

I have been there for many other people in my life and have pseudo adopted a few “kids” along the way…funny enough even adopted some “adults” recently I think…lol…I have a good heart and desire to help the world. I want to make a difference in the lives of others and just make another’s life better. 

MY life has been rough, literally from the start so I feel there is anything I can do to make another’s life better, I want to do it. People often say, “Oh you don’t HAVE to do that.” I know, but I want to.

I want to be a foster parent, or Boys and Girls club friend or be there and make a difference to someone who truly needs me and wants me. Someone I can adopt who wants me.

The “adoptees” are generally the ones who say “Thank you and Happy Mother’s Day” to me and for that I say thank you…yet my eyes were still wet today for lack of those words from the ones who I desired to hear it from the most.

With all my love, to all my little adoptees
[and those who wanna be]

Trisha Trixie


  1. Thank you for posting such heart-felt and very moving thoughts about what Mother's Day means to you. Sounds like you've had quite a few difficult and challenging experiences over the past couple of decades. I hope something materializes for fostering. It's been an interest of mine also - especially the teens who are aging out of the foster care system and don't have a forever family. Many are wanting to be adopted - even as older teens.

  2. I struggled to understand my parent's challenges and did not appreciate all they did for me soon enough. I hope the people in your life will appreciate you sooner than I appreciated mine.