Yesterday, my sister, Dinah had her baby girl. I’m happy for her, but I can’t help being sad too. Growing up all I wanted to be was a good mother, it was my dream. You know for all that there was woman’s lib; I still wanted the 50’s housewife version of life. Kids playing in the backyard, me in the kitchen in an apron creating something wonderful to eat, and a husband that came home at 5:30 every day to a home-cooked meal and me. Little by little life had eroded that dream like water erodes a rock one drop at a time, at first you don’t notice because it’s so small but eventually the water has eroded right through the rock of your dream leaving just a hole behind.
I know now that I will never get to experience the joy, pain, wonder that my sister got to experience yesterday, that of child-birth. That part of my dream was erode away over 15 years ago when my neurologist sat me down and had the “talk” with me about sex, protect and the need for me to NOT get pregnant on the medication I was taking for my seizures. Over the years I have pretty much come to terms with this fact, but it still makes me sad when I watch everyone around me get what I wanted. I think that this time around it is even harder because both Dinah and Abigail are both pregnant at the same time. It’s like a double smack in the face. It’s hard to be happy for them when a big part of me is bleeding.
Over the years, I have most hide this pain behind the lie that I don’t want kids. A lie that most of the time even I believe. It’s only on days like today that I face the reality of the fact that, child-birth and kids are something that I wanted but I’m not going to get. So while I’m happy for my family and my sister, I’m having a little pity party for me.