Mothering: The Good, The Bad and the Horrific

Most people know I was pregnant last year. For about 9 weeks, I felt very heavy, bloated and pre-menstrual. Most people also know I had a blighted ovum- the embryo didn’t develop. Since then, some of my friends have had babies of their own, and some friends are pregnant as I write this. I’m genuinely happy for all of them 🙂 The other day, one friend posted pics of her ultrasound- and this is where it catches up with me. I still get a wee bit upset when I see ultrasounds. I couldn’t watch “Juno” for months without tears. My last ultrasound showed an empty gestational sac. It was one of the most heartbreaking sights I’ve ever seen. I can handle seeing babies, hearing their mothers coo over them… But show me an ultrasound and I fall to bits. Because I never got the chance to see anything (or is that, anyone??) on any of my ultrasounds.

Today I was chatting to a workmate, whose wife is expecting their first baby in about 3 weeks. He said that his own mother wasn’t prepared to be pregnant so soon after having a baby, and so she deliberately drank to harm her second child. When the child was stillborn, the doctors asked her if the baby was to be resuscitated (apparently it was possible to do so- he had the cord wrapped around his neck). She said no, not knowing the father had already consented. Five months later, he required an operation. He died on the table. His mother again denied him the right to be resuscitated, and again was overruled by his father.

We hear stories of mothers having incredible feats of strength to save their children, selfless acts of love, and yet I wonder what was going through this woman’s mind to deny her son life- twice. I wonder why they bothered telling him this story at all; surely that’s just as heartless as the act itself?

Mothering is such a complicated topic. Everyone has a mum- love them or hate them. A couple of weeks ago, I had a vivid dream where I attended my mother’s funeral. It was horrible. I may complain about my mum (well, she *is* weird… and Dutch) but I don’t know what I would do without her.