Sunday, June 26, 2005


I'm having a really hard time telling my mother.

Actually, no. I'm not having a hard time telling her, as my inaction is a decision not to. The hardship is in rationalising the reasons why I should tell her.

She's my mother, fercrisake, and I'm her daughter. This should be a time we share the wonderful changes going on in each other's lives: her ascension into grandmotherhood, and mine to motherhood.

If (when?) I break the news of my pregnancy, she'll be all 'Oh bubby (that's her name for me, now you can all shut up) that's wonderful!', and I'll be all *yawn*, because she WON'T suddenly be attentive, she WON'T suddenly care about me, she WON'T suddenly be my mother. Even if she responded by becoming those things, and even if it was sincere and honest, it would hurt as I'd not be able to fall into its warmth and nor would I be able to believe it. If she's who I know her to be, well, that will hurt too, just as much.

She knew in January that I was seeing a Reproductive Endocrinologist, and that's big news in and of itself, regardless of the outcome. In March, as soon as I knew I was doing IVF, she knew too. In the six months since then, she hasn't asked for updates or progress reports, and she hasn't asked how I am. Mum rarely (in truth? never) does, so I'm the fool for imagining that after all the bullshit, we could still forge a loving relationship. Like an idiot, when the time came to choose a donor, I involved her again. I wrote her a long e-mail, describing each prospective donor, and involving her in my selection by sharing what did and didn't appeal to me about each of them, and asking her opinion. I wrote of the facts of IVF with donor insemination, but mostly, I wrote to her about my feelings, and I asked her about hers. As a daughter, I turned to my mother and I gave her my heart. She reply contained one line:

That's great bubby, keep me in the loop.

That was three months ago and I haven't heard from her since. Something slammed shut that day, and I don't want her involved because asking to be kept informed is NOT the same as caring enough to be interested.

I can't keep trying to be a daughter to someone who doesn't want to be my mother. It hurts too much, and no matter how much I rationalise these feelings, I still believe it is a deficit in me that makes me unlovable. Even rationalised, the pain of that belief is so deep, it's physical.

Everyday, I'm excited as I plan on telling her, and everyday I feel sick when I realise that my excitment lies in what I hope will be, and not at what is.

Tell her or not, no matter what I do, I feel like I lose.

2005-2007© aibee