Conception

 Most people have a rather boring birth or day of conception. I wish my existence, how I came to be was boring.  There is something to be said for boring. 

I did not have a mom who married a dad and poof! Baby princess! If only! I have a friend that loves her dad so much she posts to social media sites how much she misses her dad. I never told her how much I envy that. 

I used to close my eyes and daydream that my mom would marry a great guy and he'd toss around a football or baseball with us.  In my head, my dad was sometimes Pierce Brosnan or Kevin Costner.
 
 It was 1973 my mom was 13. Living was not one of her priorities. She was shy, quiet, and awkward. She studied so much that she was on the National Honor Society list. Her studying was more of an excuse she used to get out of abuse.

If she studied day and night then her dad wouldn't want to molest her. She thought this was normal. If you had been raped most of your life by a parent, you begin to think this is how parents show love. She hated it but because she was a child, she didn't know it was wrong.

This is my birth as my mom tells it as a fourteen- year old:
"I held the knife in my hand. I wanted to die. I held it to my wrist, I was going to do it I hated living." 

Then she saw something or someone. She had dark wavy brown hair and a white flowing gown. My mom describes her as being a beautiful angel.

This angel told her she would have a child. The knife dropped out of her hand. This child, she felt, was finally someone that would love her and she could love this child in return.

I know it seems fantastical, a tad bit like a virgin Mary story.  She just knew I would be her daughter.

I imagine, she fell to her knees and cried. I don't know where my mom's strength comes from, knowing that the child you carry belongs to your biological dad has to be the most harrowing thing that comes to mind. 

I admire my mom's tenacity and her spirit. She could have done many things to "hide the shame." I could have been placed up for adoption, my grandma wanted to adopt me to hide the fact that her husband molested children. She could have aborted me and I do believe that that would have been her right to do so.

I was the dirty little family secret that would not be silent. I am not ashamed of who I am.  I am innocent of the crimes of a very sick man.

I'm grateful my mom gave me life. I'm grateful my mom raised me. She is one hell of a woman and if I even have a fraction of her strength, I'll count myself as blessed.