The anomaly of my existence
Ever feel that for what ever reason you were destined to be? It’s not like I know why, yet. I have been reflecting on all of the reasons I may not have been. There are three specific things that resound to me. Three reasons why I could not be. Three things which were put aside or some how avoided the result of which is now sitting, among friends, feeling very awed. Not sure if my current state of mind has anything to do with my having just recently watch the wonderful classic Simon Birch. What ever it may be it kept me up almost all night. I feel that loss of sleep is enough reason for me to sit down and, well, spill. That is exactly what I am about to do. I’m not asking anyone to stick around or comment. This is for my sanity and me. (I don’t deal well with things that disrupt my beautiful, and restoring slumber.)
I guess it all began over thanksgiving break my senior year of high school. A girl I had German class with accompanied me home for the two or so week break. We were never what I consider to be friends, but we got along and she needed a place to stay. Seeing as I lived in state, only a few hours south, and had a completely vacant bed in my room, I grabbed her up and took her into my home.
The even being discussed took place while I was out with my guest and my mother rummaging through all of the forgotten treasures at the white lake Salvation Army (an ironic location? You tell me). The subject of conversation had somehow come around to my conception. I couldn’t remember how if you asked. Not really a subject you want to discuss among friends let alone acquaintances, but if you happen to know how my mother gets after working a midnight shift at the hospital, you’ll understand. Conversation with her in such a state has no limits, no sensorship. The tid bit of information that was at this scene revealed happened to be about my apparent undesired appearance in my mother womb. She told us “I prayed every day that you would disappear. That is why I didn’t tell anyone I was pregnant until my 3rd month.” As mortified as I was a the time to have had this revealed for the first time in front of someone who knew so little about me and my own, it didn’t really clue me into just how serious my situation at the time had been. It was the second event/ discovery that made the first more profound.
The second came about a year later. After my parents divorce and shortly after we discovered my mother secret re-marriage to my Mother current Jesus freak of a “Hubbie.” This news came from my Father to my Sister and then finally to myself. It was most likely grief which stirred my father into this disclosure, but what he said immediately recalled to mind my mothers words the year previous. “Before I married your mother, she had had three abortions.”
Now say I’m crazy or not but my immediate reaction was to wonder, what was it that kept my mother from sneaking off and taking care of her little problem? Was it that at this point she had “found Jesus?” Or was it perhaps that my Father would have… well I’m not sure what he would have done if said event had taken place and he somehow found out. Fact of the matter is that my mother was certainly capable of and experienced in the simple outpatient procedure. That she decided to go against her desires and deal with me for the next 9 months still remains an anomaly to me.
The third may be the most unexplainable of events. It occurred to me when I was talking with my mother about my first donations of blood. I had discovered that I am A- and I was wondering what her blood type was. It was when I was informed of our similar blood type that I was also was informed of my close natural demise. Apparently women of A- blood often have problems carrying children after the first. When such a woman is discovered pregnant she is given some kind of shot of something, which helps protect the baby from an attack from her blood. Apparently they “forgot” to give my mother such an injection and it was only due to my A- blood that I survived the pregnancy.
Think of it what you will. I plan on doing the same. Lets just hope that fate hadn’t fucked up on this one.
I guess it all began over thanksgiving break my senior year of high school. A girl I had German class with accompanied me home for the two or so week break. We were never what I consider to be friends, but we got along and she needed a place to stay. Seeing as I lived in state, only a few hours south, and had a completely vacant bed in my room, I grabbed her up and took her into my home.
The even being discussed took place while I was out with my guest and my mother rummaging through all of the forgotten treasures at the white lake Salvation Army (an ironic location? You tell me). The subject of conversation had somehow come around to my conception. I couldn’t remember how if you asked. Not really a subject you want to discuss among friends let alone acquaintances, but if you happen to know how my mother gets after working a midnight shift at the hospital, you’ll understand. Conversation with her in such a state has no limits, no sensorship. The tid bit of information that was at this scene revealed happened to be about my apparent undesired appearance in my mother womb. She told us “I prayed every day that you would disappear. That is why I didn’t tell anyone I was pregnant until my 3rd month.” As mortified as I was a the time to have had this revealed for the first time in front of someone who knew so little about me and my own, it didn’t really clue me into just how serious my situation at the time had been. It was the second event/ discovery that made the first more profound.
The second came about a year later. After my parents divorce and shortly after we discovered my mother secret re-marriage to my Mother current Jesus freak of a “Hubbie.” This news came from my Father to my Sister and then finally to myself. It was most likely grief which stirred my father into this disclosure, but what he said immediately recalled to mind my mothers words the year previous. “Before I married your mother, she had had three abortions.”
Now say I’m crazy or not but my immediate reaction was to wonder, what was it that kept my mother from sneaking off and taking care of her little problem? Was it that at this point she had “found Jesus?” Or was it perhaps that my Father would have… well I’m not sure what he would have done if said event had taken place and he somehow found out. Fact of the matter is that my mother was certainly capable of and experienced in the simple outpatient procedure. That she decided to go against her desires and deal with me for the next 9 months still remains an anomaly to me.
The third may be the most unexplainable of events. It occurred to me when I was talking with my mother about my first donations of blood. I had discovered that I am A- and I was wondering what her blood type was. It was when I was informed of our similar blood type that I was also was informed of my close natural demise. Apparently women of A- blood often have problems carrying children after the first. When such a woman is discovered pregnant she is given some kind of shot of something, which helps protect the baby from an attack from her blood. Apparently they “forgot” to give my mother such an injection and it was only due to my A- blood that I survived the pregnancy.
Think of it what you will. I plan on doing the same. Lets just hope that fate hadn’t fucked up on this one.