Meant to Be a Mother

by Kylee Darryl 2 years ago in pregnancy

A Life of Struggles Kept Strong by Belief in Motherhood

Meant to Be a Mother

I have always know that, above everything else in this world, I was meant to be a mother. However, there were many times in my life when I questioned if I would be able to have my own children. It seems an odd thing to have always wanted to be a mother, even as a child. That is who I am in my soul, I am a mother.

When I was growing up my parents divorced when I was eight. I was destroyed by this. I was completely a "daddy's girl." I have always been close to my dad. My mom had wanted to be a stay-at-home-mom, but my dad suffers from multiple mental and personality shortcomings, she had to work. My mom always was a strong person in my life, but we never were close, like my dad and I. My mom would work eight to ten hour days and had little time for me. My dad would work a nine to five job for about six months and then he would quit and not work for six months. This allowed my dad to be home more, but it also strained his relationship with my mom.

After my dad moved out, I bottled up all my emotions. With my mom working all the time and my dad no longer in the house, I was alone most of the time. I had to become strong and independent. I was responsible for cleaning the house, feeding the animals, and getting all of my homework done without parental assistance. About a year later, I would have even more responsibilities because my mom had to have back surgery.

After her surgery, my mom could not do much. For a couple of months, I had to care for my mom and myself. While my mom's recovery only took a couple of months, the surgeries never corrected the problem. Leaving my mom to have surgery after surgery to correct one problem. Since that first surgery over twenty years ago, my mom has had around twelve surgeries on her back to correct her degenerative disk disease. Essentially, at the age of nine, I was trusted into adulthood.

When I was sixteen, I was dating a man who was twenty years old. His name was Derrek. He and I dated for nearly five years before ending it. However, when I was sixteen Derrek and I had only been dating a few months. I had gotten on Depo Prevera, the birth control shot. I was shocked when a couple weeks later I had a miscarriage. I decided to not tell Derrek about the miscarriage. I did not think about it at the time, but how could I be in a relationship with someone, if I was afraid to tell him about something like that? Unfortunately, when you are young you think you are ready to make certain decisions and you know everything but, you do not.

When I was twenty-two years old, I went in for a routine PAP at my local Planned Parenthood. Two weeks later, I received a phone call from Planned Parenthood. Right away my heart began to race. The nurse always says at the end of my visits, "No news, is good news." This meant that a phone call meant there was something abnormal with my PAP. The nurse informed me that I had cervical dysplasia. Typically the doctor would give treatment options. However, I required treatment as soon as possible. The treatment was cryotherapy. This meant the abnormal cells would be illuminated with vinegar and then frozen off. When I was undergoing the procedure, the pain was unbelievable. At one point, an intense heat radiated from my feet up to my head and then I a became overwhelmed with dizziness. After the procedure, I was told that as the skin thaws out it will be expelled from my body. I was told I could not have intercourse for three months and I that I would need to constantly wear sanitary pads. I thought to myself, "Great, can I get any more bad news on top of this excruciating pain?" Little did I know, this was just the beginning.

Over the next three months, my life was hell! I worked ten to eleven hour days six days a week. Being that busy and wearing huge pads is not comfortable nor enjoyable. When the doctor had said that the frozen area would be expelled, I guess I imagined the pieces being small and it not being disgusting, but I was wrong. For three months I had softball-sized, bloodied, thawed cells being expelled from my body. Whenever I saw them, I thought that this was the worst of it. Once I got through this, it would be done and I would never have to think about it again. Once again, my body had to prove me wrong.

At the end of my three months of recovery, I had two instances where my bleeding scared me. On Monday and Wednesday, every time I would stand, I would have to run to the bathroom. I was heavily bleeding. So much that I was extremely concerned and went to Planned Parenthood. The doctor was very rude and belittling. She told me I was simply having my period. I might not know much, but when I am going through twelve super maximum pads in two hours, there is a problem. I had to go to work following my doctor appointment. I was at work for a couple of hours, when suddenly I felt an all too familiar feeling. I could not run to the bathroom because we had patients in the waiting room and I had to maintain my professional behavior. When I did make it to the bathroom I replaced my pad. However, this time something was different. By the time I pulled up my pants, flushed, and walked the two steps to the sink, I needed a new pad. In this one bathroom visit, I went through four pads and bled through my pants. Scared by this, I sent a text to my husband, Scott, asking him to please come get me. I then spoke with the owner and explained the situation and that I needed to go home. Shortly after, Scott arrived and got me into our truck. Scott's mom, Gayle, was a surgical technician and had connections to wonderful doctors. Gayle was able to get me an appointment with the top OB/GYN in San Diego, but not until the following day. However, the doctor did give me a prescription for some medication to stop my bleeding. The following day I went to my appointment and the doctor gave me an ultrasound and talked to me frankly. He said to me, "Brittany you should be fine now. After today you should not bleed anymore, you healed very nicely from the cryotherapy. However, did you have any thoughts about having children in the future?" I replied honestly, "One day, yes of course..." His reply put me into shock. "Okay, and you are... twenty-three, good. Well, I would say that you should try and have kids before you are thirty. After thirty you are going to find it very difficult if not impossible to have children." I was speechless, but then without thinking the I muttered the words, "Is that because of the cryotherapy and the bleeding?" He took a moment and then said, "We cannot be certain, I am simply connecting the dots that I see." This shattered my heart, soul, and my life. However, since I did not know how to manage these feelings, I reverted to my roots and bottled my feelings up.

For the next year or so, I struggled with a heroin addiction. This addiction took control of me. I figured that if I could not have children, then why care about my life at all? I had nothing to really live for. So, I destroyed my life and my body. It was not until I got clean that I realized that one pain I was hiding from, was the fear of not doing what I was born to do. To be a mother. Once I got clean, things started lining up and getting better. I was twenty-six when I found out I was pregnant. As soon as I found out, I knew I wanted to make sure this fetus would become my baby. I took it easy and did not push myself at all until I could see the doctor. Once I saw the doctor, she put me on light bed rest. My pregnancy was amazing and I ended up having a beautiful baby girl. Two years later, Scott and I welcomed another baby girl. Life has been a crazy roller coaster for me. The only constant in my life during these times was my belief that I was always meant to be a mother.

Motherhood is much more of a challenge than I would have ever imagined. I am a stay-at-home-mom and I love every minute of it. However, it does come with its challenges and pitfalls. It is the most thankless job in the world. We work 24/7/365, we do not get holidays, vacations, sick days, a paycheck, or a 401K. We have to wear a multitude of hats and perform never-ending repetitive tasks, rarely ever to hear a thank you. However, we are the ones that are always there to kiss every scratch, give every hug, and listen and talk to heal emotional wounds. We make every meal and give every bath, brush every tooth and every last hair on their head. And at the end of the night, when we tuck them into bed, we are the ones they see last before settling off into dreamland. We give up our friends, our social life, our spontaneity to ensure a steady and happy life for your children. We grow a life within us and when that person emerges and comes into this world, we are expected to know what we are doing and to easily adapt. That is not the case! We need to have people in our lives, who have walked the trail before us, to help guide us on our own journey. Every child and every mother are different, but as mothers, we could and should all be there to help support one another without hidden agendas.

My name is Kylee and I am a mother. I am here to not judge. I am here to help, love, listen, and guide.

Read next: Understanding the Effects of Addiction on the Family
Kylee Darryl

I am a new passionate, open, creative writer finding my path.

See all posts by Kylee Darryl