SLICEANDDICE'S BLOG

SliceandDice

A Mother's Love Pt. One
Sunday, May 27, 2007

The logs have a problem with big posts... so I split my story. This is part one. I posted part two first. You should read it.

A Mother's Love

Two weeks before my mother died she told me I was her pride and joy. She told me this in the hallway outside my seventh birthday party as she fixed my curls and straighten my skirt. She knelt before me and stroked my cheek with tear filled eyes, making me wonder what I did wrong. Then she reached into her purse and handed me a small, square black box.
“When I was a little girl I wanted to be a mommy like I am now. But most of all I wanted to have a little girl.” She opened the box, revealing a intricately designed gold and diamond cross. She gently took it from the box and draped it around my neck. “For the longest time I never thought I would have you. I thought I would be blessed with just your brothers. But here you are, my little angel, my perfect gift. That’s why I named you after me, Rosalind” She straightened the cross around my neck, and kissed my cheek. When she stood to lead me into my party she told me the one thing I will always remember. “This cross is a special gift so you know I will always be with you to teach and lead you.”
That meant a lot to me, through the years I was without her.
The night my mother died, I bleed. I didn’t injure myself or ‘become a woman’ as my friend’s mothers would say, but blood began to run freely and red from my mouth and nose. I woke up in the middle of the night because of the wetness, and was filled with terror. I went and woke my father, who rushed me to the hospital.
They put me in a trauma room, and ran test after but they couldn’t figure out what was wrong. My blood pressure was normal, and my blood count was normal. In the room next to mine I could see the doctors and nurses treating a car accident victim. I could hear the monitors beeping from my bed, and then I heard the beeping stop. When it did, my bleeding slowed down to a dribble.
I could hear my father frantically trying to reach my mother, who had spent most of the weekend with her father, and should have been home an hour before. I could hear the doctors talk about find the other patient’s next of kin. I saw my father stop the doctor to ask him a question and stop short when he saw a card the doctor was holding. I could see the dead look in my father’s eyes from my bed, and I could see the sorrow on his face when he came over to talk to me. He didn’t need to bother. I already knew my mom was dead, I just knew.
Over the years I learned to do without my mother direct guidance. My father didn’t know how to curl my hair; something my mother took pleasure into doing for me every morning, so I started wearing it braids or straight. My father didn’t know how fix a skirt neat on my frame, so I wore jeans. My father didn’t know a lot about girls, so I learned to be one of the boys. But still I tried to live my life the way I thought she would want me to. I tried to keep her proud.
Over the years I grew and changed. I wore my mother cross only on special occasions, and learned to be strong on my own. And then my life changed.
I was 19 when it happened. I didn’t know at the time what it was or it was happening but now I can pinpoint the very moment everything changed. It all changed when I meet Adiana and I feel deeply and madly in love. It all changed when I told the truth to myself and everyone else, and finally accepted myself. I was gay and I had meet my soul mate.
Things started getting weird after that. Whenever I wore my mother cross I started getting sick. I would have headaches, cramps or get sick to my stomach. It went on for years, getting a little worst each time. Eventually I just stopped wearing it, knowing it was the necklace on subconscious level, I think. Knowing it was her gift was hurting me.
Over the years I had a life. I went to college, and then law school. I got a job in a great firm. I made a life with Adiana. But something was missing. I didn’t just want a career and my soul mate. I wanted a family, a family with Adiana.
We talked about it for a year discussing the pros and cons. Finally we came to a decision, we would do. I made an appointment with a fertility specialist and started the process of donors and invitro. I got ready to be a mother.
My pregnancy was relatively uneventful. The normal bumps and trials, but I made it through it emotionally unharmed, and still as much in love with Adiana as before. I was in my eighth month when I finally learned what was wrong in my life.
I couldn’t sleep that night. I couldn’t relax. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew soon I would have my family. I was just debating whether or not to wake up Adiana and go to the hospital. So I just laid there, unable to make a decision, and watched Adiana sleep. Finally I couldn’t stay still, I had to do something. I started thinking about my mother. About the love and strength I use to feel in her hands, see in her smile, and how much I missed her all of these years. And then I thought of her cross. I struggled out of bed and basically waddled over to the dresser where I kept it. I ran my hand over the old and worn box, feeling the memories and emotions tied to it. I sled off the lid, and ran my finger along the cross inside, counting the diamonds over and over again with each pass. Seven, for the age I lost my mother. I left it out of the box and fasten the clasp behind my neck.
The moment the clasp is fastened I felt it start to happen. My head felt like someone is hitting it repeatedly, and when I look over to the mirror I could see my nose is bleeding. I moved to wake Adiana, knowing I had to get to the hospital but I just collapsed. I tried to scream but it only come out in a gurgle. I heard Adiana’s voice, calling to me, and I felt her kneeling before me. I could feel her trying to stop the bleeding. I could feel myself pulling away.
The world began to blur and I couldn’t make out Adiana, or the room, or even my own body. I saw the world turning white, and I panic. ‘It isn’t time for this’ something in me screamed, and I felt my pulse race. That’s was the only thing that brought me any comfort, my pulse racing. I thought, ‘I can’t be dead, not if I still have a pulse.’ I could also still feel my child within me, which also filled me with comfort.
I could still hear and feel Adiana, but her voice felt so far away. I was alone on a white plain trying to find my way homer. At least I thought I was alone.
“Its about time” an angry voice says from behind me. I whip around and see a woman standing there, looking like she wants to kill me. She looks familiar but I can’t place her face. “I was wondering when you would put my cross back on. I didn’t think I would ever get a change to stop you.” It hits me then, this woman before is my mother.
I move toward her, wanting to throw my arms around her. “Mom-” She cuts me off before I can even start.
“Did you think I would let you bring this blasphemy to life.” She pushes me back and all I can see is the hate in her eyes. “You are not the daughter I gave birth to. But luckily now I can make sure another mistake like you is not brought in to the world.”
I just stare at her, trying to process what just happened. My heart feels like it has been smash to pieces and I can’t catch my breath. I move away from her. I can still hear the faint voice of Adiana calling me. I turn back to my mother and I know what I have to say.

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