To all my Sister's who are parents, I wish you a happy Mothers day. *hugs*
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The Forgotten Mother
© 2008 by Pearl Price
(You may share this provided no words are changed, nothing is charged, and proper sttribution is made.)
I am the Forgotten Mother.
I am not allowed to be a Mother.
I have earned the title, yet none
will let me use it.
I couldn't have children and
so adopted my daughter ...
like her other Mom.
I changed her diapers, fed
her, and rocked her to sleep ...
like her other Mom.
I cried and rejoiced at her
first steps ...
like her other Mom.
I took her to doctors, wiped
her nose, and kissed her boo-boos ...
like her other Mom.
I blessed her and prayed
with her every night ...
like her other Mom.
I comforted her when she had
nightmares ...
like her other Mom.
I brushed and curled her
hair ...
like her other Mom,
I played with her and
welcomed her friends ...
like her other Mom.
I went to her parent-teacher
conferences ...
like her other Mom.
I helped with her homework
and rooted for her in sports ...
like her other Mom.
I worried and prayed all
night when she stayed out too late ...
like her other Mom.
I stood beside her no matter
what ...
like her other Mom.
I supported her through her
pregnancy ...
like her other Mom.
I held her hand and wiped
her brow during labor ...
like her other Mom.
I cooed over her son and
marveled at the miracle of his birth ...
like her other Mom.
I cried at her wedding ...
like her other Mom.
I tried to help her and her
husband start life together ...
like her other Mom.
I opened wide my heart, my
home, and my purse to help them ...
like her other Mom.
But I am not allowed to be her Mom. Why? Because I am a woman who was born transsexual.
When her other Mom and I adopted her, I was - in appearance - her Dad. For ten years, I did my absolute best to be
her Dad. But the day came when I could no
longer push everything down, when I had to finally face and accept who I
am. So I transitioned, laying down the privilege
of men and picking up the life of a woman. I had reparative surgery and went on with life.
I took on all the things with which any woman deals in
today's world. More than twenty years of
career experience suddenly had no meaning and my ideas no value – I was just a
woman. I arranged childcare. I dealt with PMS and worried about breast
cancer. I worked for years in an
environment where people deliberately sabotaged my career and my mind – so my
family could eat. I tried to help her
through the maze we call life.
And I made a huge sacrifice. People are prejudiced and
viciously attack those who have two mothers ... even more so when one of her
mothers used to be seen as her father. So to protect my baby, I made the sacrifice. I agreed to be her "Aunt".
Can you imagine what it is like to be with your daughter, to
be so proud of her, and not be able to claim her as your own? Can you imagine hearing your daughter call
others in her life "Mom", but never call you that beautiful name? Can you imagine the incredible ache in your
heart on that wonderful and terrible Sunday in May when all Mothers are honored
... except you?
I am the Forgotten Mother. And I am not alone. There are
many other Forgotten Mothers. And some
have harder paths to walk. They are
denied access to their children because of the anger of ex-spouses and bigotry
of judges. They are refused the joys and
responsibilities of Motherhood and instead treated simply as walking
checkbooks. Their love for their
children is not important. Their need to
be with their children, to love them, to hold them, to help them is not
important. But their checkbooks
are. When one transitions to live as a
woman, one's income drops sharply and often disappears; yet they are valued
only for whatever money they have.
So while I hurt, I am also fortunate. My daughter has often acted hurtfully toward
me, acted as though she would rather I not be in her life – until she needed
rescuing from some situation. But I have
been there. I've stayed in her
life. I was at her wedding and the birth
of her son. The girl who gave me such
grief is now the woman who seeks my comfort and advice. Others are not so fortunate. For them my heart truly breaks.
I am the Forgotten Mother. I am one of many Forgotten Mothers.
Next Mother's Day, please remember me - and my sisters as
well. Remember that we are also
Mothers. Remember that we love our
children. Remember that we have and will
do anything we can for their benefit. If
enough people do this, then one day we will no longer be forgotten. We will be able to stand up and take our
rightful place as co-parents and Mothers.
Then I will simply be a Mom ... like her other Mom.
