So my crazy mind was going all over the place today after my blog indulgence. Strangely I was reading about relationships and cheating, etc and this in some way caused me to think about when I was a child. In fact, I was thinking about how my parents got together and thinking what my father could have possibly done to have my mother and step mother both smitten by him. Love was different in those days so I guess a guy could just do nothing and have two girls going crazy over him. Not that I am saying that was the case but for what I know of my dad, I personally don’t think he swept either of them off their feet, but love is crazy that way.
A—ny who, I suddenly started laughing because the craziest thought just popped into my head. Its strange how sometimes my mind joins totally unrelated things together. Even now that I’m writing this post I am still laughing. So here’s what I am laughing about and I’m sure my laughter will probably turn to tears some other day.
After thinking about the progress of the relationship between my dad and my step-mom (they’re married), I remembered that I am short a sibling. How did that happen? Well when I was younger my step mom went into the hospital and I never knew why but when I was older I found out she had a miscarriage. Sad right? But where the laughter came in is when I thought that if that child had lived, me and my sister would have been moved out of the house and into the cellar.
I was laughing so hard that I had to call my sister and share my joy with her. Funny enough she said that she was thinking the same thing just the other day.
Here’s some background – The house that I grew up in was pretty small. It had three bedrooms, living room, dining, kitchen etc. There were four of us kids, my two brothers who shared a room and are my step mothers kids and me and my sister, we also shared a room but were products of my father going back and forth between my mom and my step-mom.
Growing up my sister and I were mistreated a lot by our step-mom and my father never did anything to stop her. So it is strange that I found that to be so funny. In
my home , nothing was good enough for me and my sister. Even gifts from caring friends and family were taken from us as soon as the unsuspecting gift givers turned their backs.
So I’m sure that if that child had survived, she would have been put on some kind of pedestal much like my brothers and since there was no other space and the baby would definitely need a room, and neither me nor my sister would have been good enough to share room with the baby, we would have been sent to the cellar to make space for it.
The truth is even though the child did not come to pass, we still ended up loosing a gift. My aunt had recently given us a new bed set so that the old one we had could be thrown out. After that whole hospital situation, we were instructed (by our father)to remove the new mattress from our bed and put it on our step-moms bed because for some reason her mattress was not comfortable since she was
sick. Even when she got better, our mattress wasn’t returned and we had to remain on her old one.
Can you imagine how much more we would have lost?
How further marginalized we would have been, if this child had come into being?
God does work in mysterious ways 🙂
A miscarriage is a horrible thing for someone to experience so that’s really not what is funny. I am not celebrating the fact that my sibling isn’t here. But the idea that we would have been moved to the cellar, which I am sure would have happened, with no objections from my father, is really quite hilarious to me, at least, today. Truthfully, sometimes when I think of my life I (ball) cry my eyes out but today I got to laugh and that tells me that I have survived and that I am healing somewhat.
There are many scars and trauma that have followed me into adult life and I will never be able to laugh about everything. I’ll never be able to get over what happened but like any other person who has suffered from any kind of abuse, any day that you can find humor in those circumstances is a good day?
It might have been good to have a little sister. Maybe not, as I would’ve probably ended up hating the kid because her mere existence would have made life even more unbearable for my sister and I.