My Mother

There are times I’ve questioned if I was given to my mother at birth out of some tragic happening. She knows this and cares about my right to know who I am biologically. And for the true moron who seemingly reads this blog and accused me of being mean to my mother for wondering: like…it’s totally kind of a big deal to know who your birth parents are.

However, when she gave birth to her baby (this was in the early 1980’s) they had a very low chance of survival as they had breathed-in a substance that’s part of the birthing process. They were whisked away before she had a chance to see them as the doctors then tried desperately to save the baby’s life. (The mid-wife said it was a girl by the way but out of respect for that individual who by some slim chance might not be me I’ll use the pronoun they.)

Anyway…my mother was a very independent woman and refused to marry until her late 30’s. That was just what she wanted for her life and so that’s what she did.

When I was brought in to my mother later I looked very alert, very healthy and quite cheerful… I was “big for my age” as in I was literally off the charts until I was a year or two old. I mean a doctor almost put me on a diet because he was so concerned due to my weight except he said, “She makes up for it in height so I’m not too worried.” Haha! To clarify: I was not chubby but rather I was “too big” for my supposed age.

By the way, just to also clarify for a second for the hate-readers of this blog who have been here for years for ugly reasons: I would have still been advanced but not to a ridiculous degree of I’m not my mother’s biological daughter. I would have started reading and talking very early ie at around age 3 for reading instead of at around 2 1/2 but my walking would have been right on target as in 11 or 12 months walking instead of almost running at 9 or 10. Not…bizarrely soon just a bit ahead. (No, I’m really not bragging.) So basically, only a month or a few weeks before my official time of birth at most? Two months? But two seems unlikely… I mean the midwife/doctor(s) would have passed me off as an exceptionally healthy newborn so it couldn’t have been that far removed from my official birth date. And again, regardless, it wouldn’t affect my IQ and make me secretly dumb somehow for the “haters” reading this… *sad laugh* No, more like just a different person genetically than who I was raised as to some degree (think family diseases). I mean let’s say I was born all the way back in September (which is almost impossible I’d bet) yeah it wouldn’t change my IQ based on the way the IQ test is calculated. Sorry… Actually it could explain some bullying though and why I was so bored… I was “too adult-like” according to some kids… (I would likely have started a year earlier even if it was just a month or two before my official birthday in November.)

But! But…was my survival a miracle instead? Perhaps! That is what the mid-wife told my mother…

I was so healthy though. Oddly so considering. “Wow! She’s really alert for a newborn!” one doctor commented. I was just that fortunate after almost dying? Ha! Yeah…I don’t know. Truly. I mean if I had to bet I’d bet that I was just a rare case of thriving after near death but…

And if my father or the father who raised me knows something he’s not a person who would ever tell me openly. Ever. There are things that man keeps so very quiet that only God probably knows other than him. I’ve done tests and research but it’s not anything that’s legally binding or entirely conclusive as that would be too alienating and hurtful to my mother and it just isn’t something I can talk about with my father. Hopefully someday I’ll know for complete certain.

That being said, my mother is my mother regardless. We don’t look that much alike or share that much in common other than some shared core values that she instilled in me, which is both good and bad. However, she is my mother. That’s for certain. It’s a complicated relationship but oh well… *shrug* We bonded quickly whether I was her child by birth or not.

Anyway, I’ve written some unpleasant things about my mother and I just wanted to clarify that she’s not a simple, two-dimensional person. She’s not pure evil. She has done things that are evil but she’s done things over the years that were helpful and nurturing as well.

There’s not a lot else to say I suppose, but hopefully that’s enough. My mother’s absolute best contribution? She encouraged me to be authentic. I have an authentic faith. A true sense of inner-self. And I feel free because of her genuine free-spirit to figure out the rest honestly. She might not always validate or encourage my honesty, so to speak, but she created a foundation that ironically can’t be destroyed for the best either way. That’s a lot considering…

Just to be clear.