Dear Emily, the little girl I never had
Sweet Emily, you’re the little girl I never had. You were not aborted. You were never conceived. Perhaps I should tell you why.
The woman who would have been your grandmother, my mother, reminded me on a regular basis, for as far back as I can remember, that she almost bled to death when she gave birth to me. She also told me on a dreaded regular basis that she took some medication to try to abort me, but the medication failed her. She seemed to resent that failure.
Emily, she wasn’t a good mother in any sense of the word and since I had her genetic pattern, I feared I would repeat her errors. I feared that I would treat you the way she treated me. At a very young age I made the decision that I would never give birth to a child. I was afraid that I too might come within an inch of losing my life during childbirth. All I knew of the event is that profuse bleeding would be involved. I know now that all that was wrong, but I didn’t know it then. Also Emily, I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to do to you the things she did to me, but I was afraid I would. I couldn’t take that chance.
You see the home where I grew up was not a loving home. The man who would have been your grandfather was a horrible alcoholic. As with many alcoholics, he was all about himself and his family was his burden rather than his pride. His alcoholism was propped up by my mother. She covered for him and she demanded that I do the same. When I was old enough she made me call his employer and make excuses when he was too drunk to come to work. When he would go on his two week drinking binges she would not let me go outside and play. She would tell me that she had enough to deal with, without having to worry about me getting hurt or run over by a car. Emily I wasn’t that irresponsible, I was a good kid and knew not to play in the road.
I think that’s probably enough for today. You probably need some time to think about what I’ve said so far. Tomorrow I will tell you more about why I never knew you and perhaps you’ll understand why it might be best that you never knew me. I’ll also tell you about the world you would be living in today.
The woman who would have been your grandmother, my mother, reminded me on a regular basis, for as far back as I can remember, that she almost bled to death when she gave birth to me. She also told me on a dreaded regular basis that she took some medication to try to abort me, but the medication failed her. She seemed to resent that failure.
Emily, she wasn’t a good mother in any sense of the word and since I had her genetic pattern, I feared I would repeat her errors. I feared that I would treat you the way she treated me. At a very young age I made the decision that I would never give birth to a child. I was afraid that I too might come within an inch of losing my life during childbirth. All I knew of the event is that profuse bleeding would be involved. I know now that all that was wrong, but I didn’t know it then. Also Emily, I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to do to you the things she did to me, but I was afraid I would. I couldn’t take that chance.
You see the home where I grew up was not a loving home. The man who would have been your grandfather was a horrible alcoholic. As with many alcoholics, he was all about himself and his family was his burden rather than his pride. His alcoholism was propped up by my mother. She covered for him and she demanded that I do the same. When I was old enough she made me call his employer and make excuses when he was too drunk to come to work. When he would go on his two week drinking binges she would not let me go outside and play. She would tell me that she had enough to deal with, without having to worry about me getting hurt or run over by a car. Emily I wasn’t that irresponsible, I was a good kid and knew not to play in the road.
I think that’s probably enough for today. You probably need some time to think about what I’ve said so far. Tomorrow I will tell you more about why I never knew you and perhaps you’ll understand why it might be best that you never knew me. I’ll also tell you about the world you would be living in today.
posted by pissed off patricia at 5:54 AM
18 Comments:
Oh, Patricia. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for you and for Emily and her potential siblings, your poetential children. We can only progress from where we are, and you know where you are. Have you thought about adopting or rethinking conceiving. It seems you had love held back from you, so much that you have even more than most to give.
Namaste.
Kat
Kathleen, My life is very good now and I am extremely happy. I did the right thing.
Parenthood is not for everyone. That's why I have often advocated for the serious testing of and training of potential parents before they can recieve a license to becom such. I think that makes just about as much sense as abstinence only education.
Doing the right thing takes guts, and is self defined. Thanks for having the courage to post this P.
Blog on sister. BTW, I'm going to blog roll you.
Thank you windspike. If people did have to take a mental test before having children, we would hava a lot less child abuse and neglect. Probably less children too.
Well, this isn't exactly the spot for the outdoor plumming story today, but I didn't want to keep fillng up Craig's blog with this stuff, either.
pop - Your story was very moving. My granparents raised me, thankfully, so I guess it's sort of fitting.
There was blizzard on the plains of Nebraska and my grandpa had just come in from the "privy" and said that it was, "really a rockin'" out there.
My grandma looked out of the window and said, "Well, Burdette, you were the only thing holding it down; it's blown over already."
She and I couldn't stop laughing, but man, was he ticked off! He got a friend and they went out and propped it up with a 2x4.
Ah, good times. -Bathed in a galvanized tub in the kitchen, too.
I have had my fill of "camping" for one lifetime.
Same here Blue. My idea of roughing it is if the ladies at the hotel don't come in and turn down the covers and place a little piece of chocolate on my pillow.
Camping does not appeal to me, been there and done that before Coleman equipment was an option.
I will admit I did enjoy being awaken by the rooster crowing when I would visit my grandparents. I still love that sound.
Did your grandparents have a pot bellied stove in the kitchen for heat? Mine did and there were rocking chairs all around it. Best place in the world to be all wrapped up in a homemade quilt on a cold morning. My grandmother would cook ham, sausage and bacon along with eggs and biscuits for breakfast every morning. Damn the smell was wonderful.
Forgot to mention that your story about the outhouse was funny as hell. Everything else I start to say about it takes the converstation right down the crapper (pun totally intended)
While my story is nowhere near as strong, somehow or other I also grew up feeling it would be better for me not to have children.
- oddjob
oddjob, if you want to, you can tell me why you felt the way you do or did. If you don't want to do it here, I'll give you my email address.
POP-
I think thats what we women need to be supportive on, the idea that we can choose children or choose other things, both lives have validity and purpose and Windspike is absolutely right that it is so easy to have a child...but not everyone should. I must apologize because I thought you were elsewhere, but now I checked your profile, obviously I've been having issues with keeping people and their digs straight.
Heavy stuff, girl. You might wanna send that to the new guys in charge.
Oh PoP,
I'm glad you think you made the right decision. I too couldn't have children. Hubby and I decided not to adopt and remain childless. It was the right decision for us too.
Touching stuff. Incredibly sad.
That was very wise of you. It's just too bad that it took the circumstances that it did to force you to deny yourself that relationship. That took courage!
Actually, POP, it's pretty straightforward I think.
My biggest fear has always been that I will end up unemployed & destitute. It hasn't happened, but I know myself well enough to know my weaknesses, and I worry about my ability to fail. I don't usually, but every so often I do and when I do it's often spectacular.
It's enough of a challenge being responsible for myself. There's no way I want to bring a child into that.
Some may regard me as selfish or as a loser for being like this, but I firmly believe one ought not bring a child into the world without being up to it (recognizing that one is NEVER really up to all of the demands, but that's not what I mean).
I make a decent uncle most of the time; I don't trust myself to make a good father.
- oddjob
PoP, I'm glad you made the right decision for you, but I have no doubt that you and Mr PoP would have made great parents, had you so chosen.
I won't ever know, of course, but I think that, given the opportunity, R. and I would have made good parents. Unlike you, I do have regrets. I allowed financial considerations and my ties to Florida to keep me in a state that denied me the opportunity to adopt.
PoP - In some ways I wish I'd had your courage & good sense. I didn't want to have any children until my ex sweet talked me into the idea. I was young & foolish.
He was right in that we did have a wonderful, beautiful daughter. But we weren't the parents that she deserved to have.
I had my tubes tied when I was 21 so that I'd never fall for that kind of romantic "reasoning" again & have not regretted that decision.
Thanks for sharing.
POP...
That was very beautiful and very moving....parenting is not something that should be taken lightly, you more than weighed it, you took it to heart.You made a decision out of love and to give something back. You were more than wise, you looked at your own life and were Brave because of it. That indeed is rare courage.namaste.
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