What It Feels Like To Grow Up Without A Mother

My mother died when I was two years old. Almost 3 actually. She was having another baby and complications at birth among a series of events, as told by those that were there, caused her to lose both her life and that of the baby. The death certificate listed her cause of death as a ruptured uterus.

Children's homes 

Soon after her death and because my father worked away from home, my older siblings were still young needing care themselves and because there was no one around to take care of a toddler, I was taken to live in a children's home. Somewhere in between the years, I lived with some foster parents before going back to live with my biological family.

When I reflect on my time at the children's home, I feel it is not the best environment for a child to grow up in. The experiences there have had detrimental effects on who I am as a person.

No, I do not regret my time at the children or foster homes. As matter of fact, given the choice, I wouldn't have it any other way. I was able to access opportunities that I probably wouldn't have otherwise and my path crossed with people and experiences that positively impacted my life and are core to whom I am today. Also, the events of my life at that point were beyond my control. People made decisions over my life based on what they felt was best for me and themselves at that time and I embrace those experiences in their fullness.

Mother figures

In my socialisation, I have had several mother figures. Some who I still love dearly and adore wholly. Many were nightmares! As matter of fact, the reason why I was able to go live with my family in the end, was because I ran away from the children's home because of mistreatment and physical and emotional abuse. But that's a story for another day.

I didn't grow up with a mother. So that's an experience I will never have. I have no memory of my mother and apart from seeing her in pictures, I wouldn't recognise her were we to meet in the streets. Also in a group photo, I'd have trouble pointing her out.

I probably did call her "mum", "mama" or "mami" or whatever. I imagine I was verbal at three years and a child calling their mother is one of the first things they learn to vocalise so maybe I have a history with the name. I still find it weird to say it though and I am unable to call people "ma'am" even as a sign of respect. Its similarity with "mum" makes it very problematic for me.

Mother-child bonds

I completely adore mother-child bonds especially mother-daughter bonds and I usually fantasize about having that for myself so that I can experience it firsthand. 

Even though I don't know it any other way, I know for sure that growing up without a mother is tough. You feel a void in your heart that you can't explain. Not just because of the lack of motherly nurturing but because you don't feel motherly warmth and love.

Even though I can't say I know what that feels like for sure, I know I haven't felt it. At least in a way that I can remember. That's because I see how other people love their mothers and how their mothers love them and I can sense that there is some energy there that I have been missing in my life so far.

I am not saying I haven't experienced love. I am not saying that I haven't met people in my life that have loved me dearly and deeply and did everything in their power to make it happen for me. I just feel that the love I received from them had its conditionalities. Sometimes by no fault of their own.

Love with conditions

At the children's homes, you had to behave well and not cause any trouble for you to receive a decent amount of love. Bad behaviour would lead to negative outcomes such as severe beatings, name-calling, or other forms of physical, mental, emotional, and verbal abuse.

The same happened at the foster homes. You understood well enough that these families were going out of their way to accommodate and incorporate you in their lives so there was always that pressure to be at your best behaviour, to never reveal too much of your personality lest they find something there that they didn't like and cut you loose. To never be too free or too relaxed because you were scared to offend and to be unlovable. In most situations, you learnt to keep your mouth shut and to never voice your opinion unless it agreed with the foster family's opinion. You cared too much about what they thought about you and you didn't want to give them a reason to be fed up with you.

In some way, it felt like all the love you got was conditional. You were only loved if you gave something back in return and when you didn't take away too much. You had to be within the limits of others just so that they could accommodate you in their lives. 

They didn't go out of their way to love you I felt. After all, you were with them only for a short while, and then you would move on. Maybe they would occasionally ask around or pop in to check up on you and see how you were doing simply because your life paths had crossed and that would be it.

A mother's love 

I always imagined a mother's love would be different. That it would be without conditions. That you could scream and shout, and cry and do a few naughty things here and there and you would still receive it in all its fullness. With all its warmth.

A mother would never give you up I felt. They would never give up on you. They would love you even when you were at your worst, even when you didn't love yourself, and even when you didn't love them back. 

A mother would care about you being yourself. They would never want you to shut everything in. They would never let you live a life where you were always scared to rock the boat. They would be with you in your messes and they would help you fix them. They would love you even when you weren't perfect and you would always be perfect in their eyes.

A mother would care about you sincerely, without expecting anything in return and she would love you for eternity and not just for the time being.

I do understand that there are toxic mothers out there and not every mother is as warm and loving but that doesn't deter me from romanticising motherly love.

Adoption

I recently took a friend who is seeking to adopt a child to a children's home. The experience was too overwhelming for me. It probably rattled up some memories that had been buried deep in my mind. 

When we went to the nursery, it was hard to pick a baby to play with. You would show some attention to one and all the others would burst out crying, banging their heads on their beds while throwing their arms and feet in the air. It was painful to watch.

These babies deeply craved love, especially in its physical form. They wanted to feel it. They wanted to touch and be touched and they wanted to feel the joy that comes with it. The understaffed social workers who had several babies to take care of at one go did not get the time or the chance to give them this love, at least in the way the babies needed. 

Experiencing this deeply hurt me and it left me wondering whether I had behaved the same way when I was in these babies' situation. I resonated with them completely and I felt their pain deeply.

Since then, I have been unable to take my friend for subsequent visits. I cannot bring myself to experience this again. It was too much for me the first time. To see all these little versions of me going through what I went through emotionally and missing out on what I'd consider pure, true love wounded my heart. It also made me question why anyone would want to have a child and not be there for them especially when they could or do anything in their power to make sure they were there for them. I do understand that some circumstances could be beyond their control, but this doesn't seem to give me any solace.

Motherhood

I cannot experience what it's like to have a mother and feel that love, but I can be a mother myself and give that love.

I am thinking of having a child of my own soon. I honestly cannot fathom what that will be like mentally and emotionally, but I am determined to give it my best shot and to be the warmest, kindest, most gentle, most loving, and motherly mother I can ever be. I have been watching mothers and their children and I have been picking lessons on what to do and what not to so that I can be well informed on being a wonderful mother. 

I guess it's an emotional need for me to be the mother that I have always wanted. The mother I have always dreamed about. The mother I have always needed. The mother I never had. But I understand that the mother I have always wanted might not be the mother my children will want or the mother that is best for them. And that's an adjustment I will be willing to make when that time comes.

I already love my children even though I do not know them and even though I haven't seen them yet. I guess I am already a mother in my heart.

My mother 

I embrace my life of growing up without my mother. I do not know her and I never will. The stories people tell about her are always conflicting because sometimes people see others based on who they are themselves. There is always that bias. So I am left with an imagination of who she was.

I imagine my mother loved me and that love remained even after she was gone. And that's what I go by. And that's the love and more than I will pass on to my children even though I feel I don't truly know how. I imagine it will come naturally and then I'll take it from there.

Mothers day 

For all these reasons, mothers day has never quite hit. Even songs and poems about mothers never truly resonate.

To me, mothers day is a burden. It's a constant reminder of what I do not have and what I do not know.

I can understand why it's such a big deal for others though and the hundreds of social media posts on my timeline every year are a testament to the importance of mothers in the lives of their children but the day is something that never truly resonates with me. I guess you have to experience it to fully comprehend it. I do respect it though. And I can't wait for it to have true meaning in my life.

Do I envy people with mothers? No. But I do relish the mother-child bond. I am happy for people with mothers. They are a reminder that what I want is available for me. They show me that what I am yearning for is attainable.

They show me that a mother's love is as real, as pure, as everlasting and as magical as I have always imagined it to be.

Happy mothers day to all mothers past and present, to mother figures everywhere, to future mothers, and to all those that love like a mother.

Thank you for giving love and for teaching your children how to love.