When the children are running together in the yard, playing some created game, eating around the table or shrieking at each other with overwhelming rage, I wonder how things would be different if the youngest weren’t here. Would we miss him? Would we feel an invisible empty spot where he would have been, or should have been? Would we feel the loss of something and not even know what it was?
Surely not, my rational mind says. We don’t miss what we never had. And yet I’m not entirely convinced. Four years ago I would have at a moment’s notice packed my pre-existing children off to a friend and accompanied his pregnant mother two counties over to terminate the pregnancy. I would have borne as much of her pain as I could, tiny as that might have been, because having another child at that moment was a dreadful idea.
A dozen what-ifs added together might have produced an entirely unrecognizable life for her if she’d not faced the upheaval of bearing my boy. How different things might be right now. Anyone — or almost anyone — could make the case that allowing that pregnancy to go to term was the worst possible decision for her.
For my own selfish sake I’m glad she carried through. And even though I love my son more each day than the day before, I’m deeply grateful that if she had so chosen, his mother could have made a different decision.
Amazingly eloquent – as always.
I read this as a tribute to George Tiller. It’s beautiful and complicated, the way life should be.
You read it correctly.
I find things are often what they are meant to be, which is why we cannot imagine them being otherwise.
i’m deeply grateful that there are people like you in this world. it’s easy to forget about children of mothers who make the choice to birth them without the means to support them.
Omg. I just this very second realized that your icon is a lily. I’d always thought it was a pink snoozing Garfield.
:: shaking head ::
bwahahahahaha! though a pink snoozing Garfield would be kinda awesome.
Sometimes I’m astonished by my own idiocy. :)
When my mother found out she was pregnant at the tender age of 15, she was encouraged by every person she encountered to “do the right thing” and have an abortion. 35 years later I sit and am quite thankful that she chose the hard road and didn’t “do the right thing.”
So is my husband, my nieces, my nephew and unbelievably, even my mother-in-law.
But Hannah, isn’t it beautiful that she had the choice in front of her to do as she wished?
Agreed.
This is an incredible post…I think you conveyed the thought beautifully.
Thank you for writing this. This is something I’ve wanted to write about often.
Growing up as the last-born in my family, I was always told honestly that I was the result of an unplanned pregnancy. And they were going through tough financial times. My dad told my mom that it was upto her if she wanted an abortion but my mom said simply: no, she would have me. I used to think my mom told me this story to send the message that abortions were wrong. But now I’m grateful for her honesty, cos the story also let me know that this choice should always be mine and only mine, the way it was hers. Her story also made sure that I know I was not a burden forced upon her, but someone special, loved.. chosen.
Thanks for the comment. I worry about what I’ll tell him someday.
I was also always told that I was the result of unplanned pregnancy (actually, ‘actively prevented’ is more accurate since my mother had had her tubes tied nine years previous to my conception). Moreover, due to health reasons her doctor recommended she abort. Because she believed I was a gift from God (she was Catholic), she chose to keep me. I always knew that she told me to be honest and to communicate how special I was to her. I really appreciate that, and I love that her choice led to a being who is not only atheist but actively supports other women having that choice as well.
That’s such a tough situation. Doesn’t every child want to be wanted? I have no idea what or how I’ll tell my youngest about this topic.
This advice may be unsolicited, but I suppose it can’t hurt…
In the context of a loving home, knowing this actually taught me a valuable lesson, I think, about how often the most rewarding and the best things in life aren’t what we expect or seek out. I think the salient difference to communicate was between being wanted prior to arrival and being wanted now. Unplanned does not mean forever unwanted.
Totally not unsolicited, or unappreciated. Thank you.
I second this. I was so obviously loved by my family, it never occured to me to feel unwanted.
Being told also might have had the weird side-effect of me feeling almost invincible at times, like I was somehow meant to be, despite the odds. And like I could beat said odds again and again.
Which means I am delusional at times lol, but also pretty positive.
You should tell him the Legacy of an Adopted Child. I read it to my daughter the day I gave her (formally, for she actually left the hospital with them) into the arms of her adoptive parents. It doesn’t answer all the questions, but the important ones.
Legacy Of An Adopted Child
Once there were two women
Who never knew each other;
One you do not remember,
The other you call “Mother.”
Two different lives
Shaped to make you one;
One became your guiding star,
The other became your sun.
The first one gave you life,
And the second taught you to live it;
The first gave you a need for love,
The second was there to give it.
One gave you a nationality,
The other gave you a name;
One gave you talent,
The other gave you aim.
One gave you emotions,
The other calmed your fears;
One saw your first sweet smile,
The other dried your tears.
One sought for you a home
That she could not provide;
The other prayed for a child
And her hope was not denied.
And now you ask me
Through your tears …
The age old question,
Unanswered through the years.
Heredity or environment …
Which are you a product of?
Neither … my darling … neither,
Just two different kinds of love!
~ Author Unknown ~
There is more than one version apparently, but this is the one I knew and most liked. Also, apparently the author is not “Unknown” but her name is Penny.