Part One. I Am Mommy
“I know you though we’ve never met
At least not yet my dear,
But soon we’ll be inseparable
As the day approaches near
I know when you are restless
And when your day is done
I feel your every movement
And relish in its fun
I know the day’s approaching
I can’t wait to embrace
The moment when I hold your hand
And kiss your tiny face
So see you soon my little one
I can’t wait for your birth
I’ll cry big tears and hold you tight
When I bring you into this earth.”
Pregancy@Terri Mlotek 1988
I always knew I wanted to be a mom! Growing up, all of my Barbie dolls were moms. Some were pregnant. Some already had babies. From an early age I knew that being a mom was my destiny.
I was privileged to have been present for several births prior to having my child. One in particular, was my sister in law’s. She had her two children naturally at home. It was such a wonderfully loving experience and I too had been going to see the same obstetrician who was very prominent in home births. I made the decision to follow in that path, and bring my daughter into a warm, family filled environment at home.
At 26 years old, on November 26, 1988, 3:16 a.m., with my whole family there, that dream finally came true! I had my daughter, Rena. I was a MOM! My baby was beautiful! She was mine! And she was here! What came next was a reality that wasn’t in my “mom” plans. Rena was born with facial anomalies. Most noticeably, a cleft lip and palate. I saw the looks on everyone’s faces before I had the first glance at Rena. I had asked the doctor what was wrong. He explained to me about the cleft lip and palate. My response was; “can they fix it?” He immediately say “yes!” That was all I needed to hear. It really didn’t matter to me at that point. I was a mom!!!!
The next few months were eye opening. We were first sent to Children’s Memorial Hospital, where we met with Plastic Surgeons who specialized in clefts. There were a few other children in the waiting room with their parents but to be honest, I didn’t really pay too much attention to them. I couldn’t even tell you what their children looked like? I was doting so much on my new baby, I could have been sitting there all alone.
When I handed my now few day old daughter off to the doctor’s aide, she blurted out to those of us in the room; “Oh, so we will have to do a number of surgeries on her head to correct the Craniosynostosis (a condition where the soft spots of the skull are fused at birth) and Hypertelerism (where the eyes are too far apart).” I remember the room spinning and getting really loud. I looked at the aide, who was staring at my daughter and I said, “We are here for her lip.” That’s when the aide realized that we had no idea about the other issues. We hadn’t even seen a doctor yet. She immediately rushed out of the room and brought in the plastic surgeon who sat with us to discuss what was now our new normal.
I do remember after leaving the office, I cried. Those were the first tears I shed out of fear. I recall a sense of rage and sorrow. Maybe not rage, but I was certainly looking for blame. God? Spouse? Environment? Who could I yell at???
This was not fair!!!
As the days went on, I settled into being a mom. That was so much more important to me than anything else. But as friends started to stop by and show congratulation, I felt the pity. I saw the look of despair and sadness on their faces. They tried to hide it. But I saw it. Some of them didn’t even want to hold Rena. What were they afraid of I thought? She was a baby! She wasn’t going to give them any disease or anything. At some point I had requested no more visitors. I was going to just enjoy my new found status as mommy, alone.
Just to be clear, my husband at the time must have felt his own pain. But we never discussed much. We had our own share of problems and this did not strengthen our bond.
As time went on, we learned about the surgeries Rena needed. There were many.
Each in different stages of life. The first was when she was just a few weeks old. That was to close her lip. As she grew, they repaired parts of her palate. At 5 months, she endured her first major surgery. That was for the craniosynostosis.
I remember the night before, staring at my beautiful baby and wondering what I could possibly do to protect her from this. Feeling such guilt that I somehow did this to her. That I had caused her all of this angst and pain. What kind of parent was I?
The next day was the longest day of my life. 9 hours of surgery. Constant reports from the nurse. But it was over. They wheeled this little child, all wrapped in bandages into the ICU, where I spent the next 5 days sharing space with other parents whose children just had major surgery. The dunny yet sad part was that none of them had the same surgery as Rena. So discussing anything with them felt wrong. We had a kindship of sorts. Of course we were bonded in some ways. But I still felt very alone.
When I finally took Rena home, she was as smiley as if nothing ever happened to her. Her head was still very swollen. She had a scar from ear to ear. But this little bundle of joy was my reason for living. And so, she taught me resilience.
Even through all her surgeries, she rarely cried. Not that I remember anyway. Maybe it’s because in between everything, she was always happy.
I remember one morning waking up in a daze. I’d had a dream that the entire surgery scenario was a dream. So when I woke up, I half expected that I would walk into Rena’s room and there would be this “perfect” little child. No scars. No issues. I hated myself for even thinking that! What was perfect anyway? This was our perfect! As imperfect as it was. It was all ours.
When Rena was 18 months old, her father and I split. There was only so much I could maintain and Rena was it. I spent my focus on being the best mom in the world for her. So much so, that I put my own needs on the back burner. I lost a lot of friends in the process. But it was very difficult to maintain friendships with people who didn’t understand what it was like to have a child with a difference. It wasn’t like I could just call them up and complain. What would they do?
There wasn’t any internet groups that I could just long onto like there are today. And we didn’t even have a computer back then. I was very alone and isolated.
The one positive light that came out of that dark situation, was that Rena and I had a bond that was unbreakable. We were in essence raising each other from the ground up. Piece by piece. As she was being put back together, so was I. And I didn’t even know that I was broken.
We hadn’t even gotten into preschool yet, but there was this “aha” moment when I realized I was a force that had to be reckoned with. That I was going to protect this child with everything I had in my power. That was my destiny.
Terri will be writing an article once a week, so stay tuned. She has also agreed to share her email in case you want to connect with her. Peenut1220@aol.com
