When Steve and I got married in 2001 we discussed the option of me having surgery to reverse the tubal ligation I had done when Lauren was born. We both agreed it would be wonderful to have a child together, hopefully a boy. We dreamed, joked and laughed about the experience. After a great deal of consideration we knew there was no guarantee the surgery would be effective or that we would have a son. With us already in our thirties we considered how old we would be before we would ever have an "empty nest". When we were married we were an instant family with three daughters and had never had "just us" time and decided against it and decided to get a dog instead. So on our first Valentine’s Day Steve presented me with our 'son', Magnum, a black miniature schnauzer.
Raising three girls has been a challenge, a blessing and sometimes seemingly a curse (lol). So many fights over the invasion of one’s privacy, the calls to their dad to stop by the store for feminine products which he declared he would never do but so graciously performed the task multiple times. I think back over the years and smile as I remember some of the conversations and experiences. There were struggles with each child, each being so different and unique and so many wonderful memories as well. Memories that they probably don't even realize mean so much to me.
It's amazing how different each of the girls are. Holly, the oldest is very independent and self-sufficient. She's the prim and proper one, the lady of the three. She's the 'princess' of the three. Heather is the one who has given us a run for our money so to speak. It seems she has fought us every step of the way along life's journey. She's 'trouble'. Regardless of all the challenges she has presented us associated with her mental illness, there is a very loving, warm and protective side of her. She just doesn't make the best decisions in life and of the three reminds me of myself the most when I was her age. Lauren is our 'little redneck girl". She likes trucks, camouflage and getting muddy on a four-wheeler. She's just very down to earth. It's amazing how they were all raised in the same house but are so incredibly different.
After Holly and Heather had moved out Steve and I joked about being on the 'downhill swing' toward our empty nest. We were looking at four more years before Lauren would be ready to venture out into the world and though I've always liked the idea of having my children close to me where I can keep an eye on them and know they're okay, I was really looking forward to Steve and I having some "just us" time. I think God sometimes looks down on us though and kind of chuckles at us and the plans we make for ourselves just before He laughs and says, "Oh, but your plans are not the plans I have for you".
I remember the overwhelming sense of grief I felt when Heather informed me she was pregnant. I remember saying, "Oh my God, what are you doing? You know she's not capable of providing for and caring for a child. She can't even take care of herself." I was angry and upset. I couldn't for the life of me understand why God would allow her to conceive a child. I knew that Steve and I were going to have to raise this child and that was something that I quite honestly didn't want to do. I wasn't sure how Steve really felt about it except that he really didn't want to either. Would this be the final straw with him? Had Heather finally gone to the limits of inflicting more on us than our marriage could handle?
My first reaction was to run from it, naturally. I told Heather I didn't want to see her, talk to her. I didn't want to know what she named the baby. I didn't want to know if it was a boy or a girl. I suppose it was an 'out of sight out of mind' kind of thing. If I didn't know, I wouldn't care and would be free to assume everything was okay without being burdened by it all. I remember sitting in our living room one night and I commented to Steve, "You know no matter how hard I try to ignore it and put it out of my mind, I'm falling in love with this baby and it isn't even here yet." He said, "Yes of course you are, it's our grandchild. You also know that we are going to have to raise it, don't you?" That was the first time it had ever been spoken.
I eventually began having to drive 126 miles one way to pick Heather up and take her to her OB/GYN appointments. The first time I took her, the doctor performed a 3D ultrasound and for the first time I saw Joshua's precious little face and began crying. I couldn't help but be afraid for this precious, beautiful, innocent little child who didn't ask to be brought into this dangerous, angry and cruel world. I knew he was going to need me and I knew that I was going to have to do whatever it took to help him no matter what the costs may be.
After Joshua was born, Steve and I were both unemployed but did everything we could, even more than we really could to try to help Matt and Heather with Joshua. We spent money to make sure Joshua had everything he needed and to make sure Matt and Heather had what they needed. We had hoped that being parents would help them to mature but knew they were going to need a lot of help. However, the calls kept coming during all hours of the day and night from Heather for us to come get her and Joshua because she and Matt were fighting again. I was terrified Joshua was going to be accidentally hurt or killed by these two. Steve and I discussed it and did what we felt we had to do and notified the proper authorities.
Heather out of anger, frustration, immaturity and lack of understanding accused Steve and I of trying to take her son because he was "the son we had never had". What she couldn't see was how much doing what I felt I had to do to protect Joshua hurt me because she was my child and I never wanted to hurt her. She wasn't aware of the feelings of resentment I had toward her because I wasn't supposed to be having to take on the responsibility of raising a child at my age. Steve and I were supposed to be thinking about our retirement. She didn't realize how much I envied my friends who had grandchildren and 'lived in a perfect world' where they could be mema, grandma, mimi, nana or whatever their grandchildren called them and they just got to be grandparents. They could visit them, take them home with them for the weekend, love them and spoil them and get to be the 'special' person in their grandchildren's lives that when they arrive, the grandchildren run to them and say "Mema!!!!" I was angry with Heather because she was depriving me of that.
Matt and Heather eventually signed custody of Joshua over to Steve and I in January of 2010 and Matt's parental rights were terminated later in the year. Though Heather calls to check on Joshua regularly, the only time she sees him is when I take him to see her. As much as I try to encourage Joshua to call me 'Mema' he continues to call me "Mama" and though I refer to Steve as "Poppa" Joshua still calls him "Daddy". As a matter of fact, when Steve was at home on his last R and R we kept calling Steve "Poppa" and Joshua was on the couch with Steve one night playing and took Steve's face in his little hands, looked Steve in the eyes and said, "u my daddy".
How do I handle this? What do I do? I try so much to respect the fact that Heather is his mother and I want Joshua to grow up having a clear understanding of whom everyone is and where we all fit into his life and where he fits. I want him to know that he is loved so very much and is the most precious thing in the world to me. If Heather were to hear him calling us mama and daddy she would have a fit but I can't tell him not to call Steve daddy when he seemed to be so determined to do so. I'm just really torn over this and trying to find the balance between being Mema but filling the role of Mama.
First, I love that you're long winded, like me! Very thorough and everyone can understand what you're saying. I think this story is precious. It's hard to explain what God might be doing here, but I think it all kind of falls into place. You guys had hoped for a son. God, with His infinite knowledge, must have known something you didn't, because he didn't give you a biological son. Instead, He took a potentially horrible situation and laid the path for a better way. I think that if Joshua wants to call you Mama and Daddy that is precious. It may be uncomfortable, but to HIM you ARE Mama and Daddy. God answered your prayers, he has given you both a child as your own to raise and care for and love. My Aunt & Uncle raised their Grand-daughter (my cousin was murdered) and she called them Mom and Dad. She knows they are her biological Grandparents, but none of them really care. And has blunt and brutally honest as this is going to sound.. you can't be Mema and Mama. You just can't. You're not going to be able to be Mema if you raise this baby his whole life. You won't be the lady he visits every couple of weeks. You'll be the woman he learns to be a man from.. the lady that tucks him into bed at night with kisses and bedtime stories. You'll be the lady he basis his entire view of women on. You're his mama. And you're doing a pretty outstanding job, I might add.
ReplyDelete