Tuesday, March 2, 2010

I was a Mommy...

..did that really happen?? The ache in my heart leaves no doubt.

I knew Pamela was on her way to heaven and would be leaving her dying earthly body behind soon; that part, as weird as this sounds, I was expecting; knowing that it would be wonderful knowing that Pamela was with Jesus... but what about the parts I wasn't expecting.

What about the part of becoming her mommy?

This little girl was abandoned at birth by her biological mother, rejected by the doctors and hospital staff that referred her to us because they didn't want her, thrown aside by that the social workers of the hospital because in this culture because there was something wrong with her she was considered worthless. And then Gentle Hands got the phone call referal...and we went.

I remember the trip to the hospital, wondering what the baby would be like, wondering if we would take her, knowing we would. I remember walking through the streets leading up to the hospital, I remember walking through the front door of the hospital, I remember being led to the ward, I remember walking into that big room lined with cribs and babies and mommies, and then I remember seeing her, her tiny bed, all by itself off to the side...with no one around. She was just lying there all alone.

I should've known then... but I didn't.

I remember walking up to her with Ate C and Ate M, our social worker, along with the doctors and other 'curious' staff. I remember listening in disbelief as we pieced together through questions that this baby was on powerful drugs. When asked how much... the head nurse was puzzled... they couldn't tell us the dosage she was on; they weren't sure... when asked why... the doctor was silent. The medicine was a drug to prevent seizures...although this baby wasn't having seizures... in her case, it was simply used to keep her drugged and in a quiet stupor. I guess it made them feel better to think she was high and not feeling anything than for them to actually care for her. I remember being angry.. very angry.

I remember gathering her few belongings that she had and watching Ate C. gather her up.

I remember getting her home and getting her settled in. I remember feeding her for the first time that afternoon, holding her in my arms, being so careful with her. I remember watching her and observing her those first few days and reluctantly coming to the conclusion that hydrocephalus had already taken sight and sound from her. I remember thinking how important touch would be.

I remember the first few nights when I slept right beside her crib, getting up every couple hours to try and feed her...remembering the anger return as we pieced together.. she didn't eat at night, she wasn't used to being fed at night...the hospital only fed her during the day, leaving her to go all night with no food..

I remember thinking.. Oh my, she's not going to live long! That was when I knew that she would most likely be my first death that I would experience in ministry. That's when I started to expect death at some distant point. But again...what about the part that I didn't expect...

Now that she's gone, I'm left to think about what happened... what really happened. I referred to her as my baby. She was mine to care for. Yes, others helped out and cared for her while I was away teaching or doing hospital duty, they were her caregivers as well... but I ... I was her mommy. I was the closest thing she ever had to a Mommy. That realization has hit me like a ton of bricks these last few weeks, especially these last few days.

I became the first person who wanted her, who loved her, who would've taken her as my own. As I told her over and over again, for the last week and a half of her life when I never left her side, my releasing her to heaven wasn't my way of getting rid of her or rejecting her, but it was the only way I knew how to show her just how much I loved her. I loved her even to the point that I wanted what was best for her.. though it would cause me pain to say goodbye. I told her again and again how I would've loved her forever, and I meant it. I would've loved and wanted her for the rest of my life, I would be the first person to feel this way towards this precious baby. The realization of my new position in her life started to dawn on me slowly...as it appeared to those around me.

Certainly in my heart, she was my baby girl, but as others noted it, I was awakened to the possibility that maybe this wasn't just all in my head...maybe I really was becoming her mother. I will never forget one night about two weeks ago, when talking to Ate C, about everything that would eventually happen, when she made the comment, "well, what I tell most mothers, and at this point that's what you are, you've moved past the role of caregiver, you're now in the role of mother..." It was then, in the middle of the sentence, that my place was set. Ate has been down this road before, plenty of times to be honest; and for her, who has seen people, mothers and visitors alike, come and care for dying children before, say that I have moved beyond the role of caregiver and was now in the role of mother... that's when I knew it was no longer in my head, I was a mother now.

Even now as I write that, it takes my breath away and rushes tears to my eyes. Is it truly possible?? At 20 years old, is it truly possible for me to have been a mother for only about a month? Is it possible, that I was a mother for such a short time and now its gone?

Does it 'really count'??

This last question has been going over and over in my head for the last few days. Of course it counted while she was alive... but does it still count now..?? How much of a mother am I allowed to remain?? How much of a claim to her do I still have? There is no doubt that I was her mother here on earth...then wouldn't that mean she was my child?? Does her title as my child and my title as mother vanish now that her life here on Earth has ended? It doesn't seem as though it should... then, in years to come.. is my first child's name still to be Pamela? I know what you're thinking... Whoa now Brittany...doesn't that sound a little extreme??

Can something that lasted such a short time have such lasting effects?

But then I think.. I will never be the same. Knowing and loving this little girl has changed me forever. It's not as though I will ever forget about her or love her less.

I don't pretend to be on the same plane as other mothers who have lost children; there are so many situations that are completely different than what I have gone through, and I don't pretend to know the anguish that many mothers I know have gone through. I knew the day I met my little girl that she would most likely fly to Jesus before her first birthday. But, I also know that I loved her, cared for her and viewed her as my own.

So now, as I try to find my way back to some type of schedule, (I don't remember what I did before caring for my little girl became my life), as I try to reaquaint myself with this life and lose feeling of being lost without her...my mind will continue to be like a pinball machine, with question after question arising, flashback after flashback, never ceasing. I will seek the LORD in trying to sort this web of questions, figuring out just how permanent my title was... and whatever the answer is in end ...

~ To God Be the Glory!

5 comments:

The Sampler Family said...

Thank you for sharing this with us, Brittany. I am praying for you this morning. I'm so thankful Pamela had you for a Mommy. The Lord will not forget your love for her and your role in her life.

Anonymous said...

I read your blog, and again, was moved to tears. I cannot give you answers other than to cling to Jesus. But I do believe that once you have the title of "mommy"...you don't lose it. I would hate to think that if something had happened to you or Brandon when your were just a couple of months old, that I would no longer be considered a mommy...just because my child was no longer living. The same can be said about those who have had miscarriages...I believe life begins at conception!!! And therefore, as soon as there is a baby, there is a mommy and daddy. Sometimes these mommies and daddies don't get to hold thier precious babies, but that doesn't mean that they love them any less...I do believe the hurt is real and it is devestating. But sometimes the world doesn't see the reality of the pain, because there has been no baby to hold. With that being said, yes, there might be some out there that would think your pain should go away now...but there is so many of us that know the love of being a mommy or a daddy, and know that you were that to Pamela...and this pain is not going to just go away...neither is the "title" of mommy, the love for Pamela or of being her mommy.

We love you and we are praying for you!

Mom & Dad

denie heppner said...

wonderful blogspot, brittany. didn't know you had one! have a good sleep tonight. ;)

N.E. said...

Brittany,
I am a mother 5 times over and yes,every sentiment you shared in this post is that of a "real" mother, especially the selflessness of knowing she is better off in the arms of Jesus and being willing to pray for that ultimate healing. You will never be the same after his, I am sure of it! You're being shaped into the image of Christ more and more!

Anonymous said...

I found you from Linny's blog. I am a bio mom, adoptive mom, and honorary mom...the type you mention. My little one was here for 6 months, when she left I thought my heart would never love again. But, it did. It is worth it to have loved a child. It is real and always will be. Pamela was so blessed to have you for her mommy!
I pray you heart is healing by giving that extra love away :)