Will I Always be Broken?

Sometimes it hits me like a slap in the face.  You know, the kind of slap in the face that comes when you're not expecting it?  Well that's how it feels once in a while.  When the realization creeps in that I'm pretty alone in the world.  Here I'm supposed to be this brave strong woman, mother and wife, but more often I'm left feeling like a small scared child, abandoned at the bus station with no where to go.

I have a loving, wonderful, warm husband, three beautiful children, not much missing really.  Aside from that feeling of belonging, somewhere and to someone.  I know, this is so old already, but I keep coming back to it, running through all of it.  The reasons, the fears, the what ifs.

Mostly it hits me when there are events in my life, or my children's lives, that I would love more than anything to have someone who I am, we are,  connected to through blood to share it with.  I had my last child without having my mother in my life.  Our beautiful baby was born and the event was shared with only a few, my mother not being one.  

I wanted throughout my pregnancy to talk with her, shop with her, laugh with her.  But it's just a big fantasy, one that I keep reliving.  One that I keep alive by imagining the kind of relationships I will have with my own children when they are grown.  One that I envy in others when I see them with their mothers, or fathers for that matter.

I'm not a heartless callous daughter, who doesn't speak to her mother because I am simply making a point, or pissed off about years of misunderstandings.  You know the mother daughter complex, "she just doesn't get me."  On the contrary, I' ve spend many, many years trying to get this relationship to work, or at least make in manageable enough not to put me in the nut house myself.  But it always falls flat, the rug is pulled out from under me and I'm left, most times, in complete shock.   

I' ve had all sorts of advice, like, "forget it, put it behind you, it's brought you too much pain as it is."  It's good advice, especially from those who have seen me through much of the pain associated with the relationship with my mother. But I am not sure they can understand the complete aloneness this decision brings.   I've also had plenty tell me, "You've only got one mother, and when she's gone, you'll have regrets forever.", this stings more than I can explain.  As I am a mother, and I can't tell you what it would do to me to lose my children.

What I can tell you, is that not having my mother in my life grows more difficult each day.  We all need a place to belong, meaning outside ourselves, without that we're wander, and wonder. What happens when where you come from is too disastrous a beginning to ever want to go back?

So here I sit, a few years later, the same place I was when this all began.  

Today I go for a test.  I'm not happy about it, and I would like more than anything to talk with her about it, but how?  I keep running it through my mind, what if something is really wrong with me, will she ever know, what if something terrible happens to her, will I ever know?  I don't have any answers, and I know it seems it should be just as easy as just picking up the phone, or writing a letter.  It is not.  Letting her back into my life, our lives, comes at such a high cost, and I'm not sure I am prepared to pay.  

So I live, for the moment anyway, with my decision.