MOMENTS AFTER delivering my first born, all I could think about was how I never knew my real mother. It was unexpected. You spend months thinking of every possible scenario that could happen in the delivery room and that one never crossed my mind.
I never spend much time thinking about my real mother since I have a great family. However, after they placed my son on my chest I thought how could my real mother have abandoned me?
I was not adopted. My mother literally left me alone in an apartment when I was about a year old. My grandpa found me alone and dirty. Since my dad was overseas serving in the military, I was passed from family member to family member. After staying awhile with my grandpa, I was with my dad’s brother, then I went to my dad’s aunt who lived in East Texas. She raised me as her own, and whenever my dad came to the states I would go live with him. When he got orders to go to Korea, Germany or Iraq, back to East Texas I went. I loved it here.
NO ONE ever really talked about my real mother in detail and I never asked many questions. Sometimes I would see television specials where adopted children would hire an investigator and find their birth parents. Those always either went really good or horribly bad. I thought to myself that I would never put myself through anything like that. The major difference between me and someone who is adopted is I knew who my mom was and how she left in a not-so-nice way. Adoption is a great gift. With adoption, a lot of the time parents put the child’s needs first and decide another family could give their child a better life.
WHEN I SAW my baby for the first time, I immediately loved him. I knew right then and there my real mother couldn’t have loved me. I would never abandon my baby because I loved him too much, even after only a few moments. How could my mother raise me for a year, then abandon me? She couldn’t have loved me. Family members were concerned about me because they thought I might have postpartum depression. I knew I didn’t have postpartum depression, I was just heartbroken at realizing my mother leaving me meant she must have never really loved me.
When we packed up to leave the hospital it is just like in the movies - they made me get in a wheelchair. As the nurse and I waited for the car to come around, I was sad. Things quickly changed. When my husband, Tshaw, opened the car door for me and there was my baby, Caesar, and my great aunt, Susie (who I call Momma), I smiled.
THERE IS that old saying, “no regrets because it made me who I am today.” It’s true. It’s my turn to be a mom and I want to be a great one. I invite you into my fun family. My husband is an actor and always has interesting stories to share. I also take care of Momma who is 89 and a handful.
I have been a journalist for most of the past decade, having begun my work while still in college. Since then, I’ve been a print and television reporter, a job I love doing. Writing about my personal experiences and now, as a mother, is something I have wanted to do. It is more personal than covering stories of other people, and I hope it strikes a chord with readers.
My experience recently with the birth of our first child suddenly reminded me of the pain of being a child who knows his or her parent left without cause or reason. It’s something worth thinking about for those who have walked away from their child.
© 2012, MaLu Bradford,
All Rights Reserved.
You may reach MaLu Bradford at email@example.com