My mom told me I was an accident, but welcome. Not like she had a choice, I was born in 1965. (Roe V Wade was in 1973)
There aren’t near as many photographs of me in the family albums. In the silver cabinet there were two engraved baptism sippie cups, for my older brother and sister. I used to tease Mom about it, and for Christmas one year, I think I was about 23 or 24 years old, she gave me an engraved silver Baptism sippie cup. I burst into tears because I realize she felt guilty about not paying as much attention to me and trying to make it up to me, as if my teasing comments meant I was upset about it, but I wasn’t really. (It was before I knew I was an accident but welcomed.)
I was pretty much expected to be out of the house or in my own room and entertaining myself. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t that way for my older sibs.
I have no hard feelings. I have no doubt they loved me. Mom was the oldest daughter of a large family and both her parents had to work–during wartime, depression, rationing–even to try and get enough food for everybody. Sometimes they didn’t have a shilling to put in the electric meter. Mom pretty much raised her younger siblings. And then had her own family and she thought she’d be done at 2.
So, she had a shorter life span for that Pill use, and it failed anyway, and here I am.
I think after Roe v Wade there is the potential for any mom to make that statement about I could have aborted you. Legally true. Twisted version of the Bill Cosby “I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it” comedy line.
Still, I was conceived on vacation, so I think that’s why I’m so happy.