Motherhood

Motherhood comes to different people in different ways.

My mother had two good friends who spent many hours at our house.  The three women shared lots of laughs and tears over the years of their friendship.  I think I always knew that one of them needed more from their friendship than the other two.  She was a tall, slender blond with a striking resemblance to Grace Kelly.  Even to my young eyes she had a aura of sadness about her. 

It was years later that I was told June's story.  As a young woman, barely out of her teens, she had been diagnosed with cancer.   To save her life she was given a total hysterectomy.   She survived and to my knowledge never had any more problems with cancer but she grieved for the children she would never have. She was fortunate enough to meet a man who loved her completely, with or without having children. After several years of marriage they applied for adoption and were able to adopt a son.  Now, my mother always said, that you should be able to have one child to practice on and make all the mistakes.  After that you should get to  actually start your family, because you've ruined that one.  This little boy was no exception.  He turned out to be a great adult, but he sure was a whinny, spoiled kid.

We all knew that everyone made exceptions for her mothering (or smothering) due to the circumstances.  Even the kids that were always under foot at our house, put up with his demands and tantrums.  My mother even went so far as to fix him hot dogs when he wouldn't eat what she had prepared for everyone else.  She sure wouldn't do that for any of us!

Knowing that the best remedy for the problem would be another child they put in for a baby sister to round out their family.  Adoptions moved quicker back in those days, but still you waited and waited for the call.  Finally one day the call came, but not exactly like they expected.  It seemed that the adoption agency hadn't called about their baby girl.  They had, in fact,  called for their help.  They had four year old twin boys that had survived an incredibly difficult life and needed to be placed in a home immediately.  If no one could be found to take them both, then they would have to separated.  A situation that the agency felt would be unbelievably traumatic for the boys.  Would they take them?

With no hesitation and probably lots of fears and concerns they said to bring them right on.  The friends went into action.  The frilly crib and tiny clothes for the hoped for little girl were packed away.  Two beds were found and soon set up in the baby's room. Before they had time to think, their two little blond boys were there.  Suddenly they were a family of five.  I do remember that the boys were a handful, suffering from bouts of nightmares and acting out, but June never ceased to bathe them in her boundless love.  Slowly, they began to bloom and flourish in their new security.

As happens in life, another shock was about to happen.  The twins had been in their new home about six months when the phone rang again.  This time the news was that the agency had their baby girl, if they still wanted her.  They took a deep breath and said yes.  The friends went into action again, unboxing the crib and the frilly clothes.  Squeezing the little boys into the older brother's room and setting up the nursery once again. 

I remember June during those months that followed.  She walked around with dark circles under her eyes (none of the children slept well) and glowing with joy.  She embraced the challenges of traumatized four year olds, colicky newborns, and sibling rivalry with grace and compassion.  The family that emerged from that time was a delight to be around.  The older (spoiled) brother came to take the little boys under his wing and became their proud teacher.  They all doted on the tiny blond princess that followed them around.  Their house roared with laughter and small riots, while June reigned supreme in the uproar, finally the mother she had always wanted to be.