bye bye baby...

as my forty-second birthday looms in the path ahead... a great sadness seems to be overtaking me... for it marks a deadline I cannot change.  the alarm clock went off ages ago, and I keep hitting the snooze button, over... and Over... AND OVER... in a month, I have to accept... I've run out of snooze buttons... and there will be no turning back.

being a mom was NEVER one of my goals, being married was for suckers, having kids was for jerk offs who needed someone to control.  oh my rant went on and on.  I didn't want kids.  I didn't want that sort of responsibility.  my mom was (still is) an abusive bitch and I was going to break the cycle by never having children and never being anything like her.

I found these conformist institutions like marriage and baby making for those other people who had unfulfilled lives.

my sister was slated to be the one to get married, have kids and follow the expected route through adulthood.  not Elissa Jane!!! not ME!  when my now ex-husband asked me to marry him, I laughed.  not like a small giggle, no, I LAUGHED...... because I couldn't believe this was something anyone would ever ask of me.

but it happened.  I married him.  and a year and a half later on October 17th, 2001 he got me pregnant.  something happened... that thing inside me became a baby, my baby, and my chance to do good in this world.  I suddenly had reason, purpose, something other than me to think about. 

my pregnancy was more than hard.  I lived with a staunch hard core alcoholic who decided that I was the enemy.  I got pregnant on purpose and I did it to him.  for ten months (my son was very late) I endured abuse, mostly verbal and some physical and lived in constant fear.  my pregnancy was NOTHING like the movies.  I cried a lot, and waited home alone for a husband who was blowing what little money we didn't have at the bars, falling asleep on benches, avoiding me and our home.  I lived in fear and couldn't imagine how I could be worthy of bringing a life into this world.  if my pregnancy was any indicator of life ahead, I was doomed.  

on July 18th, 2002... they cut Zoren Samuel Mastel out of my belly.  they held his squished up crying body up so I could see him.  he was there, here.  they handed him to Randall who was the very first person to hold him.  it was the only time I've ever seen Randall cry.  in that instant, I watched that asshole fall in love with our perfect little son, "look at your mom, this is your mommy, isn't she brave, she worked so hard to have you, I love you, we're a family.... "

everything I difficult I had endured melted away, and hope arrived.  Zoren was born.  we were a family.  for a moment.

in the days that followed, while I recovered in the hospital, Randall was out celebrating at the bar.  he barely came to see us.  when we came home, he was out as fast as lightening, and out drinking every night.  I actually had to call the cops and I kicked him out of the house.

they say children change you.  the arrival of Motherhood certainly changed me.  from that moment I realized I was pregnant, to the moment I gave birth, I had one mission... to put this little person ahead of everything else.  I opened a business to support us, and have fought hard to keep us afloat for the past nine years.  people would ask me how I do so much, how do I juggle it all?  my response would always be, "being his mom is easy, it is life that is so hard."

I wanted more kids.  I wanted to make up for the shitty pregnancy, and have one where I got to be the doted on pregnant woman.  I wanted a baby with whom I could spend a maternity leave with.  sheesh, I wanted to get to have a maternity leave!  I had hoped for a partner who was excited about the baby inside me.  I wanted all the stuff you see in the movies that I never got to have because I was living with a drunk douche bag the first time around. 

after begging and pleading, we tried for a second.  and failed.  I had five miscarriages in two years.  it was unbearably painful to watch my fellow mommy friends getting pregnant again while I endured life as a broken woman.  my body just wouldn't do it.  I suppose I should be grateful now, having two kids as a single mom would be so incredibly insanely hard.  (Carla, woman, I do not know how you do it!)

I was meant to be a mom, I love being a mother.  in my entire accomplished life, nothing compares to being able to make boo boos better with my kisses and leh'monem cookies (=M+M Cookies, took a while for Z to be able to say 'M+M') for school functions.   pregnancy might have ruined my body, but it did something beautiful to my soul.  in these years I've learned patience, I've given up my selfish lifestyle and put this other person first.  I've had to learn to set boundaries and rules, yes, I'm even a decent disciplinarian.  I know the true meaning of unconditional love, and I'm proud to say that I've broken the cycle of abuse and pain from my mom.

it may sound cliche, but my life was kind of meaningless before I became a parent.

last week, I went to the 35th Annual Phoenicia Square Dance with my son on my arm as my date, head held, erm, not really very high.. but my son and I danced together... I socialized and accepted where I'm at in life, the cosmopolitan single mom transplant.  there are easy days, where I look at my gorgeous, perfect kiddo and say, yeah, life is good just like this.

and then... there's the alarm clock that stopped going off.  no more snooze buttons to push.  I had been hopeful that by now I would have met someone, had another kiddo, been moved onto my next marriage and my next phase of my life.  samsara didn't dole that out as my lot.  yeah, I'm turning forty-two next month.  this was the deadline, the final year, the last chance.  reality has settled in, there will be no more kids for me.  it's really incredibly sad. it is time to let go of my attachment to hope, there won't be another chance at a great love... and there definitely isn't going to be another baby.  what a shame, I made such gorgeous awesome kiddos and I'm such an awesome mom, how could you not want to get me pregnant?  sigh. 

we all have our trigger for what causes us suffering... and now you know mine, the deep rooted truth... and now... to the hope I have been clinging onto I say, "bye bye baby.... "