AM I or AM I Not A Mother?

Am I or Am I not a mother?

Since I was too young to even remember, I wanted to be a mother. I loved my little sister as if she were my first child. As a teenager, that dream was shattered when my doctors told me I’d never have children. Yet here I am, a mother of two beautiful daughters and still I question myself every day. Am I a mother? Or am I not a mother? I’ve been asking myself this question since I was 20 yrs old, since the moment I laid eyes on my first beautiful baby girl. Every moment of the last ten years I have not only had to endure the traumatic events associated with my motherhood but also defend my title of “MOM.” For those of you who are mothers you know that this is the hardest yet most rewarding job you will ever have. These ten years have been the most joyful and yet the saddest years of my life but I wouldn’t trade them for anything in this world because my journey gave me my children. Yet, the world does not believe those children are mine to claim and keep.

I know as a society we are constantly looking for way to conform and fit in. Nobody wants to be the odd-ball, yet diversity is what makes us all beautiful individuals. So, since I don’t fit into the societal norms of what a “mother” is, does that mean I am not still a mother? It’s funny what labelling will do to people. It honestly is the root to all insecurities. We label people because our own ignorance cannot understand or accept a different way than our own. The insecurities I feel as a mother all come from not being recognized as one. I am constantly questioning my position in traditional motherhood, my role as a woman and my role in the lives of my children because you all have labeled me child-less.

When I look back at my life and my childhood I can honestly say I was never bullied. I have always been a very helping, giving, understanding and empathetic person. I accept people for who they are and for the most part that was reciprocated. You know treat people how they treat you. Yet these last ten years I have felt misunderstood, bullied and downright unappreciated as I started my journey as a mom. The biggest conundrum in all of this, is that the majority of the time it’s another woman, usually mothers, who are making me feel less than.

At twenty years old, I fell in love. OMG ya’ll this little girl stole my whole heart. The moment she was put in my arms I don’t know what came over me but I just loved her. She was about 6months old and had the biggest smile you had ever seen. The biggest head too hahaha. But she was perfect, fragile and had just suffered trauma, yet all I remember was seeing her happy. There was so much hope in her eyes.  See, I didn’t give birth to Jennessi. At the time I was dating her father and she had been removed from her mother for abuse. And well, I had no intention of having a child but it happened. She needed a mom and I just so happened to be willing and able. For the next three years I raised her with her dad. Day in and day out. My whole entire family was involved. Literally everyone. My parents took her into their home and loved her as they would their own flesh and blood. She belonged with us. It never once felt weird for us, but other people couldn’t understand it. Every time she called me mommy, my heart melted. I did everything I could to be the best mother to her. She was my motivation and the love of my life.

3yrs later, 3 ½ yrs old we’re in court. Her birth mother wanted custody. Dad was incarcerated and well I had Guardianship. Judge says to me “The child wants to be with her mother.” I said yes, that’s me. She does not know her birth mother. For her I am her mother. “Well thank you for babysitting, but you are not her mother and she will go back to her mother.” My heart sank. Shit the tears are coming down my face now as I type this. I was not her mother? I nursed her, fed her, clothed her, taught her, played with her, guided her, and loved her. I was there for her first tooth, her first birthday, her first words. When she started to crawl, and walk. When she drank from a cup the first time at 9months old and when she successfully potty trained in one week. The long days I had from school and work and she would wait up for me and cuddle, when she slept on my chest until she was three years old, or when she begged me at 2 ½ to send her to school. Did this count for nothing? How was I not her mother? And how was this going to be explained to a 3 1/2yr old that her mother was not her mother. I still have nightmares you know from hearing her scream. “Mommy please don’t let them take me away. I’ll be a good girl! I’ll clean my room.” And just like that she was gone. Because someone else determined I was not her mother.

I eventually got Jennessi back in my life about a year and a half later. She wasn’t living with me just yet but at least we spent time together and she never forgot that I was her mother. She now knew and understood that I was her “stepmother” but she hated that word. She would always say I have two mommys. She always had a way of comforting me. In 2016, she came back to live with me full time for another almost 2yrs.

2015, I’m pregnant. IT WAS A MIRACLE FROM GOD. Jennessi prayed for me to get pregnant and boom just like that it happened. But as soon as I got pregnant was as soon as the comments rolled in. I can’t even tell you guys how many times people would tell me “you’re finally going to be a mom!” Um… did Jennessi not count? I couldn’t figure out if I was more upset that people didn’t recognize her as my daughter or they didn’t recognize me as her mom. Again, the labels mattered. Every time I would correct someone they would quickly respond “Oh you know what I mean, a real mom.” Ohh so this was like batting practice? Man fuck these people. Because now, at 7yrs old Jennessi was developing an insecurity too. She would tell me, “I wish I came from your body like my sister is. I wish I was your real daughter.” Ya’ll know how many times I had to tell her that no matter where she came from she WAS AND WILL ALWAYS BE MY DAUGHTER?!

August 17^th, 2015 I gave birth to Aubrey Brielle. And I fell in love for a second time. Funny thing was, she was Jennessi reincarnated. TWINS. August 31^st, 2015 Aubrey died. Once again I was child-less. In comes the, oh don’t worry your time will come. You will be a mom one day. Now I’m confused AF! I wasn’t a mother when I was raising a child that I didn’t give birth to, but now I’m not a mother because I gave birth to a child I’m not raising? Here we go again with being put into a box.

Fast forward 2 ½ yrs later. 2018 and almost all my conversations go like this:

“Do you have children?” Yes I do. “How old are they?” Well my oldest daughter will be 10 in August, she lives with her birth mom in PR now but I raised her most of her life and my second daughter Aubrey is deceased, she would have been turning 3yrs old this year. “Oh so you don’t have any children?” ROLLING MY EYES: I guess I don’t have any biological surviving children no.

Once again, outside of the “MOM” box. So what’s left for me? I raised another woman’s child to have her taken away from me on numerous occasions because I was not her mother. I have my own child and unfortunately lost her to medical issues so I am not lucky enough to raise her here on Earth. And all I have left is constantly feeling like I need to defend that I am still their mother.

I put my blood, sweat and tears into both of those children. But more so I put my faith and love into them. You see I may not have them physically with me, but I carry them with me everywhere I go. TRUST ME: I would do ANYTHING to have had the opportunity to legally adopt Jennessi and raise Aubrey. But unfortunately our story didn’t pan out that way. That does not negate my experience as THEIR MOTHER. Just because I don’t fit into YOUR box of what a MOTHER looks like doesn’t mean I’m NOT one.

I am so tired of crying about not being recognized as a mother. I AM A MOTHER AND A DAMN GOOD ONE AT THAT. I don’t want to fit into society’s description of what motherhood should look like. Motherhood for me has meant beauty, pain, sadness, sorrow, new growth but most importantly unconditional love. See Jennessi chose me to be her mother. How many of you can say you CHOSE the woman you admired and loved to be your mother? And my womb was so sacred I was chosen to carry an angel. Ya’ll can’t even begin to imagine the beauty in that pain until you have lost a child.

I more than anyone appreciate motherhood because I don’t take it for granted. I know what it is to have children and then not have them. So the next time you want to label, pass judgment or decide for someone else where they fit in society, do me a favor and FUCK OFF. Oh, and HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY !