Every Mother's Day has been bad for me since my little girl was about 5 years old. That was the year I made some poor choices and got very sick and had an abortion right around Mother's Day. I wrote about it on my bluejacky blog several years ago before bluejacky morphed into my hard hitting silly survey site. It was the 20th anniversary of that abortion and suddenly hit me hard. My little girl was 25 when I wrote it. Mother's Day
Last year about a month before Mother's Day, I went through a severe hormone crash, and doubly so. My body started going all wonky, so my gynecologist pulled me off birth control pills, which was enough of a crash, but that in turn threw my thyroid hormone way outa whack because supplementing with estrogen for years can cause a requirement for extra thryoid hormone uptake. So when I stopped the birth control, I zoomed into hyperthyroidism, with full blown anxiety attacks and insanely high blood pressure. My endocrinologist had to crash me down to a much lower dose. The next 8 weeks were a nightmare, and all the jokes and stories you hear about menopause making women crazy suddenly became bizarrely real for me. The world bubbled out into multiple floaty realities, and I could never be sure which one I was in, although I was in all of them and it was all real and I did just fine with it, according to my psychologist. As my body figured itself out and readjusted to its own new default hormone levels, my mind coalesced back into 'me', and everything seems to be fine now.
During that weird couple of months I slid back into my past and exploded with abrupt honesty. That Mother's Day post I wrote in 2008 left out some glaring details, one of them being that I was 'escorted' to that clinic by two men in a car that wasn't mine. Even though they weren't cruel to me, the pressure was immense, and my psychologist very simply calls this a forced abortion. Read the other post if you feel inclined to argue with me- they literally stood guard at the clinic door, and I was restrained during the procedure. Since I was already trying to justify it away in my head, I didn't realize how much like a rape that would affect me, and I never got over the death of that child. My psychologist says this is a pretty common thing when women go through menopause, they go back through all the emotions they stifled from earlier losses. It's so common to keep women on some kind of hormone replacement or antidepressants through menopause nowadays that I didn't have anyone I could talk to about it, having to wing it without meds for other reasons.
This year my little girl is 30, and she popped my first grandchild out the day before Mother's Day. My nerves have been pretty shot. I'm at the age now where I'm experiencing the deaths of loved ones more and more, and having already lost a niece and my own mother in the last decade took a pretty big chunk out of my soul. I didn't want to tell anyone how nervous I was about the possibility of things going wrong during this birth, so I sucked it up and bit my tongue, because it's so much more important to be positive for the new mommy. The relief afterward has been overwhelming. I spent another Mother's Day crying.
I watched the world blab out happy mother's day greetings on twitter and facebook and other places, and didn't really say much. I know there are a lot of very sad women out there who have a very hard time getting through Mother's Day. My own mother's birthday is a month after Mother's Day, so this time of year feels weird since she died a little over 3 years ago. My sister has been going through it without her oldest daughter for nearly 10 years. And every year all I can think about is the kid I never had, and how old and smart and handsome he'd be now. I know it's so very sweet that my daughter had a little baby right on top of Mother's Day, and you'd think that would make it all better for me. But it's weird. She had to leave her baby at the hospital when she came home (nothing terribly serious) and spent her night crying. And I know that's a horrible feeling and felt so sad for her, and I cried too. We know it's going to be ok, but it's still hard.
Mother's Day is over for another year, but we still need hugs. All of us. You, too. And you don't have to technically qualify as a mother to deserve a hug.