Stigma

Being a single mom has never been easy. It wasn't something I wanted to be "when I grew up", it's hard, demanding, frustrating and yet sweetly and overwhelmingly rewarding. When I became pregnant with Thing One, I had a lot of growing up to do. Luckily, as soon as I looked into the eyes of that wrinkly little man, I forgot what "I" was, and became "we". Sacrifice is a given, even to mothers who are lucky enough to have husbands beside them, but I don't think about sacrifice. I don't give those children everything they have and then lament on all I cannot give myself. Giving to them IS giving to me. I live my life to give them the best that I can, I try to be the best role model I can be, going to school and getting my education, teaching them what's important in life. I'm a year from my BA with honours, two from my BEd.

When I became pregnant with Thing Two, my son was just FOUR MONTHS old. I was barely used to being a mother to one, nevermind two. At one point, early in my pregnancy, a person I used to call friend pulled me aside. He wanted to know my intentions, was I going to have this baby? Was I going to keep it? Then he dropped the mother of all bombs in my lap, something I'd never expect from a friend, or an enemy. He said "You might as well have an abortion. With two young kids, whose going to want you now?" I? Was STUPIFIED. Gobsmacked. Did I really just hear this? I promptly shut that man out of my life, and went on to have a beautiful daughter, born exactly twelve months and four days after my son. Despite all the "concern" my family had, I brought that little bundle home to my one year old, and we were just fine. I went back to work when she was two months, I moved, I decided to go to college and I graduated top three in my class. I put that comment behind me.



When I decided to go to university in a city two hours away, my family balked again. Concern. Concern. What happens if the kids get sick. Why can't you go to Brock? It's so much closer. We can help, you can't do it on your own. Yeah, whatever. Cause guess what? I'm starting my fourth year and I've been just fine. They've been lovely years, but that comment - the one that man made so long ago, has crept back into my life. When I wasn't looking and least expected it.

A whole new group of people entered into the edges of my life. People who judged. People who thought a single woman with two young children must be a whore. She must be looking for a "daddy" for her children. A wallet to pay the bills. Some poor sucker who will support her and raise those kids, cause God knows, she isn't able to do it herself. Those people? Suck. For a few years they sucked energy from me, countless nights I cried myself to sleep thinking that nobody truly knows who I am. Nobody could open their eyes and see what I was really all about, or, all that I do for my children.

I met a wonderful man, who has come under the same scrutiny for taking on a "mommy". I think it's terrible that he should have to answer to anyone concerning my situation. What rocks about him, is that he doesn't care. FIRE... FLAMES... bring it. Because that man loves me with all he has. Every day. No matter what comes along, or who doesn't approve. And for that I love him a little more each second of each day of each year. Thankyou Aftermath, for seeing past the stigma. For looking inside and seeing what's real. What's more? Those children have a "daddy". They always did. But they have a special love for the man that lives in this house everyday and treats them like the only children that walk the earth. He holds them when they cry, he talks to them when they need guidance. He plays with them and creates a lifetime of lasting memories. Everytime Aftermath puts his arms around me, those children clamour to get in on the family hug. And that? Beats any comment anyone could ever make.