I AM A REAL MOM

I was born in 1971. GULP GULP GULP! According to my math, that was like 23 years ago! My mother wasn't present at my birth. Odd, but not that odd. There was another woman there, my birthmum. And I want to thank her for going through pregnancy (I'm a little more than thankful that abortion wasn't legal at that time, I'm just saying), I want to thank her for going through labor (before the era of routine epidurals!), and I want to thank her for giving me to my mother. My real mom.

My mom has always been my mom. Always. She might not have been there when I made my entrance into this world, but she was the one holding me while riding in the wheelchair when I left the hospital and has been with me ever since! I think this counts as real.

My daughter was born in 2009. I wasn't present at her birth either- neither was a doctor, but that's a story for another day. However I was the one who stayed with her night and day in the intermediate care nursery, I was the one who fretted over her first few days as they ran this test and that test, I was the one who patiently held her on her side and fed her drop by drop because she just couldn't grasp the whole "suck, swallow, breathe" thing. It felt real enough to me.

And this is NOT a comment on birthmums and the choice they make for their child. Do not mistake, there are not adequate words to express the benevolence I feel towards birthmums. How do you thank someone for the life you have?

This is however, a response to the questions I hear about my "real" mom and Bun's "real" mom. I actually had someone ask me about Bun's parents. And he wasn't asking about the Canuck or myself. Grrrr.

That's a grrrr of frustration, not anger. I am the real mom to all of my children. They live with their parents. They are all loved equally- even the one who is almost 16 and eats ALL the ice cream in the entire freezer in one sitting. (grrrr again!)

I get it, you think I'm being overly sensitive. But blame it on the real daughter in me and the real mom in me. Defending my mother, defending my child. And the next time you want to know about someone's birthmum, asked them about their birthmum. If you ask them about their real mom, they might just write about it.