When I tell people that I got pregnant when I was 19 and had my daughter when I was 20, reaction usually ranges from shock to disgust. Which, of course, pales in comparison to the look on their face when I tell them I am a) not married, and that b) My boyfriend and I have been together for 3 years and some change, and that my daughter is 2. Seeing them do the math and then realizing that I got pregnant on the first date is, in a word, priceless.
And yet, here we are. Despite the fact that this was not supposed to work, under any circumstances, we plod on. In love, happy with our situation, thinking casually about marriage, a home, a life beyond.
It seems to me that you can only be valid as a mother if you fall into a very small window. White, Married, 25-28--you get the picture. But we are out there--those of us that don't conveniently fit into niches. Sometimes we are single, some of us are young, some of us begin having children at 30, even 40. Some of us are Black, Asian, Hispanic, or a mix of all of the above or none of the above. Each of us valid. Each of us, in a way, novel.
So, welcome to my blog. Enjoy the ride.
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LOve it, especially the parts about the unrewarding end of the deal.
ReplyDeleteI was a slave to all... unnoticed unattended to... just there to make sure all is taken care and no one had to want... everything was done for them, huge mistake that love thing.
Hopefully my patient loving tolerance will pay off at some point. They will all get it and be a better person for others.
My Karma.