Tuesday, April 12, 2011

J is for Jackie

I have lots of nieces and nephews and I love them all.  I love Jen for her fearlessness, Danielle for her steadfastness, Jon for his quiet ways, Josh for his quick smile and charisma, Jesse for his unmetered brilliance, Becca for her independence, Tori for her compassion.  I love Sabine for the way her spirit moves thru the world dancing to rhythms only she hears.  And I love Jackie, who is most like me.

I was 18 when I became an aunt for the first time.  Having children of my own was the furthest thing from my mind.  As the brood grew and grew, I continued to deny my own desire to add to it and focused on my career and my social life.  But buried in me was an absolute yearning to do exactly that, to nurture and parent.  A yearning that went unfilled in this go 'round.  I have made my peace with it.  So please don't read this and think I still feel like this.  It was my truth once upon a time.

There have been more than a few times in my life where I prayed to the fertility gods to give me a pass this time, always believing there would be time later for that.  And each time those prayers were answered.  The last time I prayed for that was 20 years ago.  My sister-in-law was pregnant with my niece Jackie.  It was just one of many cruel juxtapositions that the babies played out over the last 20 years.  Juxtapositions that made it increasingly clear what my heart had wanted, but what my body could not do.  Juxtapositions that made me scream for ever having prayed to not be pregnant.  Juxtapositions that broke me the fuck down.

I began to think of Jackie as my-baby-who-isn't-my-baby which sounds all cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, but I did.  I imagined that her spirit was given a choice and that when I prayed not to be her mother or anyone else's, her spirit was diverted to a home close to me but not with me.  A beautiful home full of love and laughter.  The same home that would teach us both about love, about family and about how there is always room in your heart to love one more.  A better home than ever I could have provided her.  In retrospect, I would make exactly the same choice even knowing that was the last opportunity for me.  Funny how things like that work out.

I spent a lot of years after that thinking about babies.  I raged about babies.  I secretly coveted babies.  But, mostly I loved babies.  And how I hated a body that could not give me one.  That hate gave rise to cancer, the way hate is wont to do.  Hate that resulted in the end of that baby dream forever for me.  Ironically, that hate also opened the door on understanding, forgiveness, and moving on.

These days that empty ache is more a sweet wistfulness for what might have been.  Since what I have now is so spectacular, I can't be unhappy.  Because if I had been given those other things, I might never have gotten what I have now which is exactly right for me.

5 comments:

  1. "Since what I have now is so spectacular, I can't be unhappy. Because if I had been given those other things, I might never have gotten what I have now which is exactly right for me."

    This is exactly how I feel about Matthew. I can relate to those prayers to the fertility gods and I am glad that those prayers weren't answered because adopting Matthew has been a better answer than I could have imagined. And yet I do still remember the pain of the past.

    Lovely post, Mary.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I agree. I can't imagine your family without Matthew! Or Jackie's family without her. It all works out just the way we need it to

    ReplyDelete
  3. This is a very sweet post. I'm not able to have kids either, so I know the complex kind of crazy that goes on inside your head when that happens. Thank you for sharing your thoughts!

    Sarah Allen
    (my creative writing blog)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Mary, this is so very special. And I learned something about you. You always talk so fondly about Jackie, which I expect from an aunt. But now I understand so much better than before. Thank you for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
  5. what a poignant post, and such a beautiful picture. thanks for sharing this personal story.
    nutschell
    www.thewritingnut.com

    ReplyDelete

 I have written a lot about my belly - series of poems dedicated to it. I happen to like my belly. Always have Oh, I know it's not what ...