Mother’s Day (When You Aren’t One)

I have been exceedingly blessed with a different kind of mom.  The kind of mom that had to put on the Dad pants when my father passed when I was one year old and she was pregnant with my brother.  She never taught me how to do my hair, match my shoes to my outfit, or how to flirt with boys.  But she did teach me how to mow the lawn, kick an assailant where it hurts, and how to get by without a man. She did a nearly impossible task,  raising me and my hellian brother on her own… And we both turned out pretty ok.

Of course,  my maternal grandmother picked up on the girly slack.  And she deserves a shout out for that.  I may have never learned how to keep my mouth shut the like she tried to teach me… But I did learn many other skills from her.  She is where I took my knack for art from, too!

Now I have a mother in law to enjoy and appreciate. Sure, she gets on my nerves plenty, but she doesn’t mean to. She’s been willing to help me learn the day-to-day things most people know at my age, but I don’t (because, you know, I just got here…and things are different!).

So I am very blessed to be surrounded by positive female role models… Which is great and everything… But, I kind of want to be one too.

Mother’s Day can be a mixed bag for those of us who want to be one (a mother) but aren’t. It can be particularly difficult for those whose abstinence from motherhood is not by choice. Fortunately, I’m not one of those who are forced to be childless by physical/biological reasons outside of my control. I guess my not being a mother is by choice, but due to unfavorable circumstances.

When we came to Turkey, we didn’t think our lives would be the way they are right now. My husband thought he would be working. We thought we would have a house/ be somewhat settled down. Hell, I even thought I’d be pregnant by now. It seems sometimes like everyone else thought that too. But while my friends (who are first/second time mom’s, or maybe newly pregnant) drink the kool-aid and offer some to me, I can’t really tell them why I won’t drink it. These problems are ours and kind of private (again, don’t worry, not relationship problems. Life problems), so only a handful of people even know about them.

I know I should be grateful that my self-imposed childless-ness is self imposed…but I can’t help but feel a twinge of regret when the mother’s day pictures start rolling through my Facebook feed featuring my friends (who are majority younger than me) with their kids celebrating mother’s day.

Maybe next year?

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