A Valentine for My Mom
Funny how I have no problem spilling my infertile guts to you, dear reader, yet it has taken me months to get up the nerve to talk to my own parents.
Obviously, they are aware of the post-cancer, no egg scenario. They were there. But even though Michael and I have been exploring our options for almost a year now, we have not included them in our real life circle of support.
Why? Oh there were a lot of reasons: they were in a major transition in their own lives and we didn’t want to influence their decisions with our own. That was my rational reason. But the real reason may have been that I simply didn’t know how they would react and we didn’t want their inquiries, their questions, their pressing to interfere with an already stressful part of our lives.
Selfish. I know. You don’t have to tell me.
We justified our silence by saying to ourselves, “well, if we were trying to get pregnant the normal way, we wouldn’t go around saying, “hey everybody, we’re gonna knock some boots tonight! Baby making is underway!”" No! We wouldn’t. It would be funny, but no.
Well, now that my folks are happily through their own transition (from PA residents to happy retirees in the land of tax-free living a.k.a. Delaware), we decided to take a trip and fill them in on ours (from a childfree, seemingly carefree couple to one exploring the world of parenthood).
Deep breath.
How did it go? Better than I ever would have imagined. As soon as I started the conversation, my mom just started nodding. Tearing up, nodding. My dad too. They were quiet, respectful, excited. Excited! I told my mom that I had found such wonderful support and friendship online from others going through similar experiences and she blurted, “Are you blogging??” I didn’t even know my mom knew what blogging was.
Here’s the kicker: we kept on talking and all of a sudden they started telling us about their OWN struggles with infertility. Their own cycles of Clomid. Their own months and months of testing trying to figure out what was missing/going wrong in their own attempt.
This was a conversation that we had never, never had before.
I knew that my parents couldn’t have children and that’s why they adopted me and my brother. I never knew the details. I never thought to ask. They never brought it up.
Why?
I’m guessing because they never wanted my brother and I to feel like we were a second choice, a less desirable option, something they did when something else didn’t work. They wanted us to be sure that we knew we were the one and only children that they ever wanted. Period.
And I am crying as I write this because I, dear friends, am an idiot. I have spent so much time over my adult life criticizing my adopted parents, my parents, for doing things wrong. And this is the one thing they did so right.
So, thank you, mom and dad. For loving me and never making me feel less than who I was, your daughter. I love you.
Tags: , , Adoption, clomid, family, fertility blog, Gabrielle Sedor, infertility, reproductive health, talking about infertility, trying to conceive, trying to have a baby, valentine, womens healthRelated Stories
POSTED IN: Adoption, babies, cancer, living with infertility, shared experiences
9 opinions for A Valentine for My Mom
Kendra
Feb 14, 2008 at 11:39 am
That was really nice and I hope you shared it with your parents! It is funny how when we grow up, we see things so differently. I am so happy for you that you were able to have that conversation and find a new support system in your parents!
Melis
Feb 14, 2008 at 12:46 pm
GABS! I don’t think I have nearly enough tissues to get me through this day. =) Funny that it made perfect sense that your parents went through the same thing you and the husband are going through but until I read it, I never even thought about it. WOW. And I’m SO glad your trip turned out so way better than you imagined. =)
Kristen King
Feb 14, 2008 at 1:10 pm
What a beautiful post. Thank you so much for sharing this!
Kristen
Angelique
Feb 14, 2008 at 2:25 pm
This is a true Valentine, Gab. It’s full of honesty, humor, love. You’ve created a beautiful way to say “thank you”.
Alicia Sparks, NAMI Affiliation Leader
Feb 14, 2008 at 3:12 pm
I don’t think you and your husband were being selfish at all, Gabrielle. You wanted to deal with things yourselves without outside influence, and you didn’t want to include “outside influence” until you were ready. Once you were ready (and once you felt your parents were settled), you let them in. Sounds like a perfectly responsible and mature way to handle the situation, and your feelings, to me ;)
I am very happy for you guys right now, and especially happy that the conversation with your folks went so well!
kristina
Feb 14, 2008 at 5:53 pm
This post is what it’s all about—-thank you so much for this beautiful, loving post. And for telling us about your lovely, loving parents!
kristina
Lori
Feb 15, 2008 at 6:50 pm
I have big ole tears in my eyes. Thank you for sharing your viewpoint.
lisa
Feb 16, 2008 at 2:22 pm
Hello, I’m new here to this world of blogging, but I just want to say that I understand how hard it can be to talk to our parents. My mom knew NOTHING of my IVF stuff until i was outed by a fellow ivfer who had no idea I hadn’t told my parents. (it was an innocent mistake, so I held no grudge). I am very close w/ my parents, but sometimes I think that closeness makes it harder to open up about things so raw. Glad you were able to talk to your folks though and get support!
luna
Feb 17, 2008 at 5:08 am
what a lovely post, thanks for sharing this beautiful story.
after my loss, my hub and I learned so much about my mom’s fertility struggles and losses and how she felt as a struggling wannabe mom in the 60s when no one thought about such things and her docs simply told her to relax. it was eye opening and allowed me to let her in in a way I hadn’t previously…
thanks again. ~luna
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