Coming Out

It is raining here, the heavy spring rain that after a dry, cold winter we desperately need.  The farmers have planted their various crops, and watched the lowering clouds with almost desperate hope; it tends to be windy here, and wind without rain means seeds blown out of the ground and semi-wild beets growing in the lawns of people a mile away and replanting and hoping all over again.  Yes, this is good, this kind of rain, and I won’t complain.  We had three days of absolutely wonderfully warm weather and in those three days suddenly everything is green, every little bud and leaf simply waiting below the surface for the warmth to give it permission to bloom, and now this rain, saying “Yes, yes, time now.”  Within a few days of this, I will drive to work and see the faintest of greens spreading throughout the fields, those things which mean potatoes for the table and sugar for your coffee and wheat for bread, alfalfa for cows which means meat for dinner and milk for little toddlers and well; I feel so much more a part of everything than I used to, so much more aware of how the weather and the farmers mean more than just pretty green fields and wheat chaff in the air come fall.  It is all connected, the weather and the food and the life and the death of everything-this seems more true in the spring and the fall, where everything begins and then ends only to begin again.

***The rain stopped, and started again, hard enough to pound against the ground and splash back up to look like mist on the ground, and stopped again.  It has washed everything clean, including my heart and my mind which have been thunderous at best as of late.  Time to make public the subject of these password protected posts, because now we know there is a baby on the way, a little girl nestling inside the body of my little girl, and she told me she wants to keep it.  New life, then, with her growing nearly as rapidly as the roots and buds in the earth are.  I have so many varied emotions about this, from absolute horror to deep sadness to the awareness that life does go on, life will go on, and she will move past me to her own place in the world.  As much as I want to tell her what I think she should do, as much as I have tried to convince her that her life is going to be so much harder than it has to be with a baby in tow, this is her body and her child and her life; my job now is to simply get out of the way and let her live it, so far as that is possible.

The practicalities of this will be worked out as we go, of course.  The doctor has been seen, an ultrasound done, my girl as healthy as can be and in turn her daughter as well.  Believe me, I might sound calm here, and right now I am, but there have been days, and will be again.  What I have to keep reminding myself is that I don’t get to control this girl, all I can do is sit back and let her make her decisions and try to help her as best as I can.  So much of it is up to her, and all I can do is pave the way.  There have been phone calls made and appointments set up and now the rest is up to her; I pray every day, every hour, that she takes the help offered and runs with it, that she doesn’t let this alter irreparably the plans she has for her life.

And outside it is still raining, but a healing rain.  I believe that while this situation is unfortunate, it is not a tragedy; many of you have been along for the ride when there have been real tragedies in our lives, and this doesn’t qualify.  There is a young girl too young to be having a baby, yet there she is, making her presence known a little more every day.  There is the beginning of life outside, and inside, and all around, and how can I be anything but humbled, truly, by the enormity of it all?  Good, bad, or indifferent, it is what it is, and can’t be changed now.  And I wonder if a year from now I will be so grateful that I forget the fear, forget the worry, and simply smell the head of a baby and smile.  Because don’t they smell a little like the fresh rain?


24 thoughts on “Coming Out

  1. Dear Kory – I went through this same questioning when my daughter told me that she was pregnant last July. It was a surprise to all of us: my daughter, her partner of not yet a year, my ex her father and me. It literally changed where she was going with her life; she was on her way to India to live for six months to get certified as a yoga instructor and work on a book with a friend. And there was no real alternative plan in place, financially or logistically, for handling a new baby. I was very worried about how it would go, even though she is of a good age, 32, to be having a baby.

    Fast forward 9 months + 1. The baby boy and parents are living in the city nearby, at least for now. The new Mom and Dad are in love with their baby and doing a really good job with him. They have managed the money situation and the father has stepped up to his responsibilities. So far, so good. And, of course, I am loving having the baby around.

    I know you said that your daughter is “too young to be having a baby”, and I know that is a harder situation to deal with. A 40 year friend of mine had her two kids when she was 15 and 16. She has always said that it had its positives — she liked hanging out and playing with the kids when they were little, by the time they were in their teens and wanted more time to themselves, she was young enough to get back into her own life with gusto…

    Just some thoughts from here. I, too, felt that my daughter had to make her own decision, whether or not I agreed. It is her life, as you said.

    Sending Hugs from Here,

  2. Kori- This was a magnificent piece of writing. I think that you are like me in that sometimes our best writing is when we are reaching into the very depths of the best part of our souls to try and soothe ourselves- try to remind ourselves that yes, things will work out. We have strengths we are not aware of.
    I hope it worked for you because it is incredibly beautiful and heart-full and it moved me.
    I am in respectful awe of the way you live your life.
    I love you…Mary
    .-= Ms. Moon´s last blog ..It Ain’t All Braless and Fun, Folks =-.

  3. Wow, this was a beautifully written post.

    I wish your family the best, no matter what your daughter decides. It sounds as though you are being both supportive AND realistic, and sometimes as a parent that’s all you can do.

  4. Kori, I cannot imagine being in your place. I know that whether you want to or not, you will be a mother to both of them, at least for a while, and in that all three of you will be blessed.
    I commend your daughter for making this decision.

  5. This is what I get for not keeping up with your blog. I come back to THIS post!! AHHHH!! Whenever I get consumed in my own little life, I need to remember to come back to your spot in the world and realize that you’re right…life does go on…I can only hope to face it with same amount of strength and wisdom you share with us Kori.

    Best wishes to your family.

  6. Oh your daughter is so lucky to have a mother with such deep heart. You will be alright. I was the 17 year old and I was also adopted at birth. When I got pregnant my adoptive parents couldn’t rest until that had destroyed every shred of self esteem I had and made sure that submitted to their plan of adoption.

    : (

    My heart has been broken ever since (nine years ago yesterday.)

    Your grandbaby needs you, and needs her mommy.

    Good job. : )
    .-= rox´s last blog ..My Earth Day Baby =-.

  7. I know to you this is simply the path you were given to walk and you are taking it for what it is. But you are still brave to walk it. Props to you, Kori.
    .-= BusyDad´s last blog ..To Rock =-.

  8. Our daycare provider went through this almost 2 years ago. I also have a good friend who became unexpectedly pregnant at age 19. Both adopted an important attitude- one that I know you’ve embraced. Make your choice and live it. Live it to the fullest. Doesn’t mean it will be easy all the time. But make it yours as much as you can.
    .-= Eternal Lizdom´s last blog ..Feel Good Fragments! =-.

  9. I tried to email you to get the password, but it wouldn’t let me into your “contact”. I guess I don’t need it now.
    Girl, I know it is hard now and that it may not be a great thing, but I bet that 9 months from now, 1 year from now, 10 years from now, you will look back and be so greatful that things happened the way that they did.
    You are such a strong woman. You can handle anything that is tossed your way!
    .-= Danielle´s last blog ..Doctor Shmoctor… I am doing good. Right? =-.

  10. I love how you juxtapose the rain and it’s beneficial qualities with the turmoil churning in your life. You’re right – it is healing, and there is a way for everything to work out. I don’t envy your situation, but I understand it and wish you ALL the best of luck.
    .-= Michelle´s last blog ..I May Need To Rethink This… =-.

  11. Hi Kori,

    I’ve been neglecting reading blogs for a while so I hadn’t popped in lately.

    I just wanted to say I am thinking of you and your daughter, and newbaby-to-be. I know this isn’t the life you imagined for her, but I think your support right now with her choice is making a huge amount of difference. Thank you, from a mom who wishes she’d chosen differently herself.

    P.S. That wee baby smell is indeed delicious.
    .-= Coco´s last blog ..All Love Begins And Ends There. =-.

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