My whole life I knew I wanted to be a mom. I knew I would be a good one too, not perfect-but good. I knew I could do it alone perfectly well; but I wanted to have a spouse, a life mate, a partner to do it with.
I never had an ideal time to have kids. I both could see myself as a young mom, meeting my ‘perfect match’ at a young age and us being parents, enjoying our later years together while our kids had kids-or an older mom, maybe something in between.
I didn’t have a definite plan on motherhood, but I knew I wanted it to be something I shared with my spouse. I wanted us to have a rock solid relationship. To make sure that when we entered into the unknown and wildly unpredictable World, of parenting a small person, that we would have our love, our partnership and our foundation-solid, like a rock heart-to guide us.
For us women in the USA we had family planning. A place we could safely access feminine care. Anything from being tested, regular Pap smears, birth control, condoms, anything we could need. To me, this is an essential service. Especially in a World where even in 2025, rape culture is outrageously bad. I pray that we will still be able to receive this necessary care for ourselves, at establishments so beautiful as family planning. We were lucky here for it. Thank you to everyone who made that possible! Including all the women our mothers age-who did not have the same options.
Birth control is a lovely thing. Allowing for us to decide when we have kids and with whom.
That being said-while I was on birth control at 21, I became pregnant. I was married at the time. That’s right, I was married once before. For about two years. We have been divorced since 2008.
Well, I entered into this pregnancy, hoping for the best. I was really happy as a pregnant woman. I bought books for my unborn child, I read to her, I sang to her, I held my stomach and sent her energy. I still hiked and painted-I was not a cautious woman. I used to love teriyaki chicken so much and when I was pregnant, I could not stand the scent of it! It was so strange. One of the less desirable aspects of pregnancy. Along with nausea.
At three months along I started bleeding one night. I knew what it ‘could’ mean, I was really in a place of ‘elevation;’ it is where I go whenever bad things occur that I can’t process.
I called the midwife. She told me it would be a ‘watch and wait’ period of time.
I went to work, waitressing the next day. My boss and co-workers were really kind. My boss bought us ice cream that day. I talked to the midwife again. I knew I was losing the baby.
I went home that night & I bled and was in severe pain for the entire night. I tried to sit in the shower and keep warm water over me. The pain was so intense. My cat stayed by my side. My now ex husband-then husband-told me I was making too much noise-I replied I was losing our baby, he told me to stop being so loud because he was trying to sleep.
I called the midwife in the morning after not sleeping.
She told me ‘your not superwoman, do not go to work, & ask your husband to stay home with you.’ So I did. I asked him. He said he had an obligation to his job. He left.
I cried. I kept on bleeding and waiting for the placenta to pass. It was painful.
I started to paint a coffee table I had on hand. I started with wax and crayons, then paint, oil and oil pastels, with metallic markers.
The message I received from my baby’s spirit, while painting, was that she wanted a different man to be her father-that she would wait for him to be in my life, then she would incarnate through me, as her mother.
I painted a little child with wings on steps. The background showed the earth and there was a waterfall, a moon, trees and in the background a sunset and pyramids.
Many years Later-I saw that those same pyramids were painted on a sarcophagus in Egypt. Some striking similarities with artwork in Egypt and some of my psychic artwork. Ancestors are powerful forces.
By that evening I had passed the placenta-once that occurred the pain was much less-physically. Emotionally-it was still really hard.
I told people I was pregnant so would be asked later, how my child was-or how was being a mother. It’s how I learned the 3 month rule. Because I miscarried and it broke my heart into pieces.
I am almost 39 now. I haven’t let a man near me since getting away from my ex. Four years and four months celibate.
He crippled me on Mother’s Day.
After I took care of HIS daughter for 4 years. He knew I wanted children of my own. It is hard not to resent that I cared for his child and taught her things that I may never get to do with my own-if I ever have my own children-all because her dad crippled me. It’s pretty messed up. I thought by now I would be healed. Instead I’m crippled and the amount of injustice I’ve faced in this time period, is unforgivable and inexcusable. I will never forget this time period.
In this time period I had to wonder if I would physically be able to have a baby because he crippled me. That is pretty major. It will drastically alter the way my life would have been-more ways than just being a mother or not. For instance-letting another man near me.
It’s amazing how traumatic this all has been and how it was seen as a joke, by most of the community I was supposedly a part of. It’s pretty awful.
I wondered if I would be able to be a mother. I know I could get pregnant because I have a regular cycle-but what will pregnancy be like. Medical marijuana in conservative amounts-keeps me ambulatory-but if I ever am pregnant, how will this work…..many questions I have to now ask and make adjustments for.
Being almost 39, the chances of me being a mother now are very slim. Especially because in order to be a mother-I would have to trust a man.
I don’t now.
Surprisingly, it isn’t just because of my ex-it’s because of a web trap, a person I thought had integrity and doesn’t.
I guess my pain and injury was amusing to some people that I thought were honorable.
Good lesson for me. I know now they are a horrible person. Helping web traps and watching decent people suffer for it.
Letting someone into my life-is going to be one of the most challenging things. I don’t know what kind of partner I will be now. I am crippled. I don’t have a large support system. I am autistic. I am doing my best.
How on earth will I be with someone in my space again? I’ve learned more than once, living with people is unsafe.
Now I know that anybody here-my home-MAINE, knows they can treat me however they want and get away with it.
My life is a game to them.
So………
Motherhood.
I’ve helped many take care of their kids-paid and unpaid. I’ve always loved working with kids and typically am good at it, though I am also imperfect.
I dreamt of having my own children. Literally dreamt of them. Or of her. The child I miscarried that is waiting somewhere for me-somewhere for her proper father to help her incarnate-maybe she will just have to wait for me, until heaven, because earth hell-isn’t looking so good.
I remember I gave that coffee table to goodwill. It was no grand work of art-but it also was significant. It was sad but also it was a huge part of my grieving.
July of 2007 I painted it.
When I miscarried. The only time I have ever been pregnant.
The word hope now means nothing to me.
Hope
I did a lot of that in this time period. A lot of it.
I believed everything would work out. It didn’t.
If systems had been honorable-I would have been able to redesign a life for myself and attempted to let someone in my life. Attempted to have a family. Instead-everyone involved has made this as horrible as possible.
May karma find them swiftly and soon.
This was a pretty major time and I will never forget what people chose to do.
Motherhood.
Partnership.
The future.
Will I meet my daughter on this earth once I let a man near me? Or will I forever be a spinster…..I woman too old for kids and too scarred (literally and physically) to let anyone near me……..
Only god/shiva/Allah knows.
Either way, when I die, leaving this earth hell behind-I know that in heaven-I will have what I always wanted.
My Land-a beautiful self sustainable home, my companion spouse and our family.
