Thoughts on pregnancy and motherhood

 

My family, albeit thirteen years ago.
Those babies are teens and older now.

It’s late, and I am tired. I was not going to post on my blog tonight because it’s been a long day. Long, but a good day. I actually began to come to grips with my new project—a biography of Helen Corbitt, doyenne of food service at Neiman Marcus. I hope to fit her into the dramatically changing foodways of America in the fifties and sixties, the years she was at Neiman’s. But writing such stuff is slow and hard going, and my brain is tired.

So, tonight I read a bit on a novel I’m currently intrigued by—more about that another time—and I scrolled through Facebook, partly because you can do that without truly engaging your brain, but also because I want to read everything I can about the decisions coming out of our rogue SCOTUS. I am alarmed that they dismissed charges against two physicians convicted of pushing opioids, that they upheld a coach’s right to pray at the sidelines in a decision which is being widely heralded as giving teachers the right to encourage students (Christian, of course) to pray in class, that the court will probably issue a decision limiting the EPA’s power to enforce environmental protections on the states. Are they rushing—for they do seem in a hurry—to destroy every facet of American life? Rumors are rife that they will next take on contraception and gay marriage. And of course, somewhere along the line, I’m sure they will enforce book banning and governmental dictation of school curriculum? Slavery? No, no, you can’t teach about that. The Greenwood Massacre? Never mention it.

But the abortion ruling is much on my mind. I have thought about what I have to contribute to the discussion, and I don’t know that it’s that much. But here I go. I am pro-life in that I am opposed to abortion, but I firmly believe that’s me, and I do not have the right to force that opinion on anyone else, not even my daughters. When I married, I had never given any thought to whether I would have children. But my then-husband, a physician, desperately wanted babies. After five years of marriage, endless tests, and more than a few embarrassing moments—the hospital nurses who asked, “When are you two going to put a baby in our nursery?”—it was clear that I wasn’t going to conceive. One completely unexpected miscarriage sealed that conclusion. I had been given fertility drugs, and I have always thought since that God knew what he was doing. That fetus was not meant to come into this world. But that experience speaks to me as I read of women accused of infanticide because they miscarried. And it also left me with the profound belief that being able to carry a pregnancy to term and deliver a healthy baby was a gift from God.

We adopted—four beautiful children. I, the one who wasn’t sure about parenthood, turned out to be the parent. My husband moved on, out of the marriage, and I, more than a little frightened, raised four babies by myself, from the time they were ages twelve to six. Today, they are four wonderful adults—good gravy, can you believe three of the four have passed fifty? They make me proud every day, they have given me seven beautiful grandchildren, and we are a huge, rowdy happy family.

If one of those girls—my two daughters and my two in-law daughters—had ever wanted to abort a pregnancy, barring a severe threat to their health, I would have been heartbroken. But I would have kept that to myself, and that never happened. We all rejoiced in the arrival of every baby. I often think that we live a life of privilege—and I sometimes ask God “Why me?” because I know the circumstances of my life could be so much harder. But we were blessed—each of my four were able to provide for their babies without hardship (yeah, there was a bit of careful budgeting early on) and they have been able to give their children comfortable and happy childhoods. (Ask me about family get-togethers sometime.)

So that’s where I am: pro-life and opposed to what I might call casual abortion, but a firm advocate of abortion in cases of rape, incest, danger to the mother, or a severely deformed infant. And an advocate of every woman's right of sovereignty over her own body. What I find frightening in the states’ trigger laws that the Dobbs decision enacted is the inflexibility, that “one size fits all” mentality, the refusal to listen to medical science but instead to follow what passes for scriptural law.

If anti-abortionists want to follow God’s word, they need to realize that the Talmud, that source of Jewish wisdom, advocates abortion in the case of the mother’s health. And the Bible, the ultimate source for so many Christians, never mentions it. What the Christian Bible emphasizes is love.

Whether saving babies or keeping women out of power is the real purpose is another subject for another time. But I am a worried woman tonight.

The house birthday party

 

Lovely house party tonight with about forty guests. They fell into two basic categories—friends Jordan grew up with who have wholeheartedly made Christian part of their circle, and the old folks—my friends. The mingling was great, and as one guest said to me, “The energy of this group is really wonderful.” It was fun, for me, to visit with people I’ve know forty or fifty years—and one guy I probably hadn’t seen in twenty-five (a longtime friend brought him)—but also to visit with friends who’ve become part of my close circle in the last few years. And to watch the interaction of kids—okay, they’re not kids any more but that’s how I think of them, because most go back to their high school days. They may not want to think this, but they are now all middle-aged (shhh! Don’t tell Jordan). Several of them—including one of my sons, two sons-in-law, and the boy I always call my extra child—turn fifty this year. The one thing all those here tonight have in common is memories of good times at this house.

Jordan and Julia
accidentally wore the same dresses

Christian gave a lovely toast to the house, stressing how it had sheltered me in the main house and now in the cottage. He talked about how the cottage has sheltered others, including my sons, one of whom was here tonight, and a couple of newly divorced women—one of them was here too, in fact the one who gave my current home the name, “The Cottage.” Then he said he thought he came late to porch parties, but he was so glad he was part of them. Everyone raised a toast—a lovely moment.

One girl brought up the engagement party that Christian arranged when he proposed to Jordan—perhaps the porch party to outdo all others. He arranged for Jordan to be shopping in Dallas and spent the day cooking a huge pot of meatballs, writing notes so she had to go on a hunt, and finally enticing her out to the then-empty cottage. She crossed a path strewn with rose petals only to find him waiting in a tux. He got down on his knee and formally proposed. What neither of them knew was the Jordan’s siblings were hidden in the house—and bunches of her friends were at a house down the street, just waiting to come. We had sixty people—including a lot of kids—and we ended sitting on the lawn and singing old familiar songs. Yes, this house holds good memories.

I had two of my four tonight
Jordan and Jamie

I spent the evening on the patio, and at one point looked up to see Melanie, my Frisco daughter-in-law come out the door. Such great joy! She and Jamie are busy professionals, and I hadn’t dared hope they would come.

So tonight I am filled with gratitude for all the blessings of my life. One neighbor said I was “Queen Juju” holding court. It wasn’t like that, but I did stay on the patio and guests came to greet me—even mobility problems have their good sides. But to think that as I age, I am so surrounded by people that I love and who I love in return—such a blessing. I hope I can be worthy of all the attention I get.

All the credit for tonight's party goes to Jordan. People raved about how great the house looked, how wonderful the food. And it was all Jordan's planning and doing. I like to think she learned from her mother.

PS: Sophie had a grand time going from one to the other for love. Many of those here tonight were people she, like me, knows and adores. She is now tapped out in her favorite spot, tired but happy. I’ll follow her soon.

An Amazing Day

Yesterday was an amazing day, mostly thanks to my daughters. We set off mid-morning from Auston for San Marcos, and the Witliff Collection/Southwest Writers Collection housed at Texas State University. The collection has an exhibit, up through mid-December, titled, “Literary Frontiers: Historical Fiction and the Creative Imagination.” And my early novel, Mattie, is featured along with works by Larry McMurtry, Steve Harrigan, Robert Flynn, Elizabeth Crook, Jan Reid, Bud Shrake and others too numerous to mention. I was absolutely thrilled to be in such company—most of whom I either know or had met a time or two. I just sat for a long time in that gorgeous room—exposed wood, Saltillo tiles on the floor==soaking up the atmosphere, the sense of writers. Of course, we took a lot of pictures, and the girls had fun seeing authors they’d met over the years.

We moved on to the exhibition of photographs by Keith Carter, intending to take a quick look. Instead we ended studying each photograph. The exhibition celebrates fifty years of work by Carter who has been described as the “poet of the ordinary.” He captures the beauty of people not at their best moment, the wonders of childhood, the glories of the animal world. He plays with perspective and focus and has an eye for the extraordinary in the ordinary. A truly compelling exhibit. Carter lives in Beaumont and teaches at Lamar University.

Then on to lunch. I’d never been to San Marcos, didn’t expect such a charming, almost funky downtown area, a contrast to the sprawling modern buildings of the university. We had lunch in the Root Cellar, literally a cellar, casual atmosphere, good food, and a great dessert. I’m still trying to gain weight, so you say “turtle cheesecake” to me, and I say, “bring it.”

dessert

Detoured on the way back to Austin to a store both girls knew about but I’d never heard of—Warby Parker for eyeglasses. With two daughters as fashion judges, I got the new sunglasses I’ve needed forever and a pair of readers. Silly me! I had thought we’d just go to CVS and pick them out. This was considerably better, though a bit harder on the pocketbook—enough so that my bank called to check out the unusual transaction in a strange city.

Back to Megan’s where I napped and woke up to find an unexpected party in progress. Friends had dropped by, and Megan and Brandon urged them to stay for supper. Asian marinated flank steak and Asian coleslaw. Noisy, lots of fun. But by ten, I was drooping—after all, I’d walked farther and done four times the physical activity I’m used too. My conclusion? I could never live in Austin—pushing my walker uphill is way too hard.

But several times during the day I just took a minute to say silent thanks for the day, my family, and the life I’m so lucky to lead. Now, today, it’s back to work. Home tomorrow. I’ve been getting good reports on Sophie from Christian who is holding down the Fort Worth fort.

Living in the cottage

My work crew

I have the most cozy, comfortable new home you can imagine, small yet with the feeling of space. The movers came about 12:30 yesterday, and it took them less than two hours.  Then my family went to work, forbidding me to come out here. When they allowed me, about six, I walked into a fully decorated space—furniture right where I had envisioned it, bookcase full of books, pictures hung---that part was really neat because pictures in new spaces looked like new art. Some people said they’d never seen this or that piece before, and I had to tell them where they’d hung in the house. I'm disappointed because I looked forward to showing them off.
     I would show you pictures but my computer is not cooperating, and I'm frustrated. Maybe tomorrow, if the gods are aligned.
     Almost as soon as I was in the new space, people began to arrive. Actually, my brother and sister-in-law were already here, sitting in my new living area. We had a full house for a while, laughing, talking exclaiming about how wonderful everything looked.

My brother and sister-in-law, waiting for the party

in the living area

For my first night in the cottage I had a guard troop—an eleven-year-old, ten-year-old, and nine-year old. I went to sleep to the blessed sound of children’s chatter and woke to it this morning. In the middle of the night, I woke to silence.

Today Jordan and Christian spent the day coping—or trying to—with the mess inside the house, much of it stuff I’d left behind. People kept bringing me boxes from the kitchen—cookware, glasses, canned goods, etc. I sent a few items back, and my sons put the others in place. Decisions: like, I don’t need a full set of china—so most of it went to a high shelf I can’t reach and four plates, etc. down where I can reach them. Jamiie organized the kitchen while Colin shimmed the bookcase which tilted forward alarmingly, put up hooks in my closet, and such.

I have fancy stuff too—efficiency HVAC unit that I can’t remember how it works but I know it takes as much energy as a light bulb and keeps the cottage at a really comfortable temperature. And then there’s the bidet, which everyone, particularly the kids, have discovered with delight. Thanks to my brother, who said some time ago, “I am determined you will have a bidet, and I am determined you will like it.” He was right.

It will take time to settle in and fit everything in, but it will shake down. The basic work is done. Neighbor Jay came in for happy hour tonight and said it looked like I’d been here forever. Great compliment.

Jordan's on a mission

Jordan is a woman on a mission these days, and as a result we have a new happy hour routine—it’s called work and sort. She works…and I sit and say yea or nay. She’s gone through most of my drawers and closets, kitchen cupboards, and everything but the fridge. The result is five bags for Goodwill or Berry Good Buys, plus a dining room table laden with dishes for her siblings to take or decide against. She’s gone around the house and put stickies on the art work, either with someone’s name or “Stay.”

It’s an interesting process. I don’t think most families even think about this until a loved one is gone. I am glad to be part of it, getting to keep some things that matter to me, being brave about things I can live without—she told me today she was proud of me. For me, it’s a chance to share a lot of family history with her—like my mom’s silver grape-leaf pattern covered dish. I remember yet the time she put it too close to a flame on the stove and melted one of the grape leaf clusters. And my grandmother’s wedding ring—tiny and the rosiest gold you’ve ever seen.

We are putting some things of Mom’s away for my brother, who will come some time soon to collect them. But tomorrow, all my kids arrive—they’ll go to the stock show and rodeo tomorrow, but Saturday will be a work day. Jordan intends to send them up to the attic to sort and clean. I remain grateful that they don’t allow me to climb that pull-down staircase any more.

It’s hard to tell at this point what will fit in my new cottage (we haven’t even gotten the architect’s final plans yet though they’re promised for this weekend) and what Jordan and Christian will want to keep in the house and what will fit with their furniture. We’ll end up putting some of both in storage.

Jordan said tonight she feels good about this process. She ought to because she’s already worked her tail off getting us as far as we are. I feel good about it too—perhaps a little impatient. But it’s an exciting time to live through. And I am so grateful to Jordan for all her work—where does she get the boundless energy after a day at the office?—and to all my children for their enthusiasm and support for this project.

What a lucky woman I am!

KIds, dogs, and good times

My house is alive with laughter and shouts and pandemonium tonight. At various times there have been seven adults, five grandchildren, and four dogs. The kids have played ball in front to the point of exhaustion, the dogs have hesitantly gotten acquainted with each other--each of us protective of our own dog(s), and the adults have occasionally risen above the clamor to have a civilized conversation over wine. Dinner was the most haphazard that's ever been served in my house--Colin arrived at three, went down the street to get pizza because he hadn't fed his children lunch; Jordan arrived at 4:30 and put out cheese, crackers, and hummus because Subie and Phil came by to see the kids--I think I scared Phil out of bringing his guide dog. Jamie arrived about 5:30, bringing food from Ernesto's. I didn't want any of that, so Colin went to Railhead and got me a chopped beef sandwich, and ribs for Jamie and himself. I knew in advance there was no sense trying to cook a family meal and seat us all at the table--Jamie and Colin ate their BBQ standing at the kitchen counter. So many many days I miss my parents but today I was glad they weren't here to see their grandchildren's idea of a meal.
The occasion is Jacob's ninth birthday tomorrow. There will be a swimming party at eleven and supper at five--I am bowing out of the swimming party and will pretty much have a quiet day at home. We are missing the Austin branch of the family and their absence--with two more boy cousins--leaves a whole, but they are enjoying Brandon's 25th reunion at Dartmouth.
Colin has now gone to take all five children to Jordan's house to spend the night. We were surprised the older girls (Maddie 16 and Eden 12) wanted to go but they did. I will admit that a nice peacefulness settled over the house when they left. But I will welcome them back tomorrow night.
There's something indescribably wonderful watching these children play together, considering they range in age from sixteen to eight. Maddie, who has often said she wants to work with children, has always been wonderful with each new cousin that came along, and each thinks he's her favorite. She's in that twixt and tween stage-part adult, having driven her own bright red jeep over here from Frisco, and yet playing as hard as any of them. I am not in touch with any cousins, so I marvel at the tight bond between all these children--and pray it holds as they grow.
Someone asked Jacob the other night if he was an only child, and he said, "I have cousins."
It's one of those times when I feel my cup runneth over and all the things that worry me about our world are temporarily banished from my mind.