I’ve lost my mum when I need her most. She’s still alive, but her life is over. She lies in a bed, trapped in her body, confused by her thoughts. I still have her, but I’ve lost her guidance, her support, her love, her ability to walk into my house and see the pile of ironing, the person who would have helped me bring up my three young children. My beautiful new daughter is seven weeks old and I found out this week that she has inherited my chromosome disorder that was responsible for all my miscarriages. And what devastates me more than anything now that I’ve lost my best supporter, is that I might not be around when she needs me most. Even if she waits till she’s 30 (which is early by modern standards) I will be 70. If she waits until she is 40 like me, I will be 80. Will I be around when she needs me most? When she needs me to help her through possible grief and upsets as her fertility issues arise? When she needs me to hold her hand through her first pregnancy and help her with the housework? When she needs me to tell her her baby is the most beautiful child in the world and she is the best mum? To babysit, to councel, to listen, to share her joy, and share the burden. Why did I wait so long?
I thought I had to live my life before I had children…. that they somehow represented the end of something. I never realised of course, that they are the beginning. Why did I waste so much time? Why didn’t I give my mum many more years to enjoy her grandchildren?
My generation thought we were having it all by pushing motherhood later and later…… but I’m beginning to fear that we made a huge mistake. Now I think our generation will be left with nothing – no support systems, no guidance and no energy to help our children when they need us most.
Why did I wait so long? And another huge thank you to my blog-brethren – your support is so lovely at this time……. xx