Like I've said before, Motherhood is a complex state, it's one that tests your courage, your trust in the greater plan, and in life itself.There are days when it's ups and downs get to you, but on those days I try to think of how this role I have is a special gift....a gift that some moms wait years to experience.
Some people
stumble upon motherhood at around 18 weeks (me)...and by God's grace completely....since I'd been doing everything from extreme manual labor to lack of good nutrition during those first couple weeks of my pregnancy(while serving as a
Peace Corps Volunteer in Panama). However, there are other mothers that will themselves through many painful experiences, time and time again, all in hopes that they can hold a baby...their own miracle, in their hands one day.
Yesterday my sister called me to tell me that her co-worker and friend who was 3 1/2 months pregnant had suffered a miscarriage. She called to ask me what she should say to her...
I didn't have an answer for her. All I know is that everyday that goes by, you fall in love even more with your baby and it must be such a difficult time for her friend right now. My sister told me that she called my mom for advice....and my mom just started crying.
You see the thing is....My mother was one of those moms--those moms that had to wait, and pray, and wait some more to finally be OUR MAMMA. She and my father lived through 1 still born (full-term), and 4 miscarriages (the first 2 in the last trimester and the last 2 in the second trimester).
That's 5 painful losses in a 12 year time-span. They did everything in their power to become parents, like so many couples who try millions of things, that in the end lead them to feeling even more helpless, and empty.
Fortunately a doctor in Miami from UM,
Mary J. O’Sullivan, M.D., took my moms case and promised to help her have a baby. With a 2 year treatment, daily stomach injections each costing ($$$$$) big bucks, and bed-rest, my mother was able to finally hold me in her arms...a baby she thought she would never get to have, and one that took her a while to believe was really hers. Because they did have a two year window, my parents tried for #2, my sister and were again able to witness a miracle.To this day, doctors aren't sure why my mom had so much trouble having children, but I honestly think that God's mysterious ways just don't have explanations or reason sometimes.
(This caused my mom a lot of stress towards the end of my pregnancy because she didn't want me to suffer any losses, like she endured.)
Both my sister and I have grown up, reaping that love that they started storing 12 years before we were even conceived. To some we may be sheltered, or babied, or "consentidas" , but to those that know my parents' story, they understand that for my parents...wanting to enjoy and be a part of our lives as much as possible was a dream that they thought they might never get to live out. I've always been thankful for the relationship that we have, their love for us, and all the sacrifices they've made for us to be a family....but now that I have my own little family, I am beginning to catch a glimpse of how difficult it must have been for them all those years of loss...and the choices that we are so inclined to make once we start thinking like a mamma and a papa.
Mommy and Daddy, I'm sorry for all the suffering you lived through but THANK YOU for being patient and enduring everything you did...still holding on to the hope of making us all a FAMILY one day.
Mommy y daddy, Perdon por todo el sufrimiento que les toco vivir pero GRACIAS por ser pacientes, y superar todo lo que superaron...aguantadose a la esperaza de convertirnos en UNA FAMILIA un dia!
Here are some excerpts from a poem that my dad wrote years before I was born...for "me" while he was waiting to get his chance to become a daddy.
Ya veras……/ You'll see
Lo felices que seremos/ How happy we'll be
Al lograr combatir/ As we are able to combat
Lo que al final venceremos/ That which we'll in the end overcome
.......
No son notas de nostalgia/ These are nostalgic notes
Que escribo para ti/ That I write for you
Son tal vez cánticos mensajeros/ They are maybe little song messengers
Que pudiesen reposarse en ti./ That could rest in you.
Pero en esta noche solitaria/ But on this solitary night
Silenciosa…. Silent...
En las que nos hace falta/ In which we miss
Tú presencia./ Your presence.
.......
Entonces, que placenteras/ Then, Enjoyable
Serán aquellas mañanas/ Will be those mornings
En que tus manitas/ In which your little hands
Estrechen las nuestras./ Will stretch on ours.
Jan 3, 1982, 3 years before I was born
So, Manuela, I still don't really know what you should tell your friend, besides be there. My heart goes out to her. I hope she can feel the love and support that she needs right now to get through this very difficult time.
