|
Getting your Trinity Audio player ready...
|
Mother’s Day is coming up. I’m not a fan of “Hallmark holidays,” but I guess this one’s an opportunity to reflect on motherhood. At the risk of sounding cheesy, motherhood is a gift— but not one that everyone receives. Sometimes it’s a choice. Other times, not.
My daughter will probably never become a birth mother. I try not to think about that. But it’s difficult to ignore when your kid is patting your neighbour’s pregnant belly saying, “Dare’s a baby in dare? I can’t wait to see your baby. I’m going to have a baby too.”
Ever since Avery learned this baby was on the way, she’s been walking around the house with her rubber Dora ball tucked up inside her shirt, rubbing her tummy saying, “I’m going to be a mummy! I’m just pretending, but when I’m big I’ll have a baby, right Mummy? I’m so excited!”
Gutted.
I understand how incredible it is to be a mother, so it hurts to know she may never have the privilege. I try to squash those thoughts as soon as they enter my mind, but I’m not always successful.
The thoughts are impossible to ignore when you’re faced with them head on.
As Avery waddled around the kitchen, back arched, smiling wide, she told her big brother that her baby is a girl named Little Avery. My son asked me under his breath, “Mum, CAN she have a baby?”
He waited expectantly (pardon the pun) for an answer. And I gave him one — the answer our geneticist gave us.
As an aside… we never asked the doctor for this information. Avery wasn’t quite two years old at this meeting and the thought of her as a parent hadn’t yet crossed our minds. Our focus back then was simply getting her fed and hydrated.
When the geneticist spoke about her development she casually added, “And if one day she is cognitively able to consider motherhood, we’ll address it then because obviously with her genetics she won’t be able to conceive.”
Hearing that, especially delivered as an after thought, caught my husband and I completely off guard.
I explained to my son that one day if Avery wants to start a family, she would have to get some help. Since her chromosome deletion and duplication is present throughout her DNA, she would likely pass it along. But maybe by the time she’s in her child rearing years, there might be something that can be done scientifically to prevent that.
“I get that,” he said. “The genetic part. But will she be able to be a mom? Will she be smart enough? Capable I mean.”
Gutted once again.
I’ve wondered the same. Avery has greatly exceeded what everyone predicted she would be able to do. Who are we to say what she will and will not be capable of one day? We just don’t know for sure.
What I do know for certain is that she’s the warmest, kindest person. This child is all heart — she loves hugs, and helping, and animals and people, especially baby ones. If she does become a mother one day, her child will be abundantly loved.
So when Avery tells me she’s going to be a mummy like me, I smile and silently banish the worrisome thoughts.
If my girl can’t become a mother in the traditional sense, it could certainly happen for her in many other ways.
She might be mama to fur babies. She already is.
Or she might find happiness working in a daycare nurturing all kinds of kids.
Maybe she’ll fill the role of “best aunt ever.”
Perhaps she’ll adopt.
There are many ways to experience motherhood.
I’m just so incredibly grateful that I get to experience it as her mom. 💕
