Happy Mother's Day- A Little Known Fact About The Author of An Unexpected Obsession and A Dose of Reality

Mother's Day is always bittersweet for me.

As a child I had a very clear idea in my head of what I wanted out of life: I was going to become a doctor, known throughout the universe as "Doctor, Doctor." I had no interest in getting married (product of divorce and all that. Besides, boys are yucky when you're five). And I was never having kids.

Fast-forward to modern times and I find myself an author, married to a wonderful man... and still no children. The childless aspect turned out to be a wicked twist of fate though. You see, I wanted to be a doctor because when I was young I was bitten on the abdomen by a Brown Recluse spider. Living in Oregon, where the Brown Recluse is rare (or was at the time), it took a while to diagnose the spreading, pulpy mass that was growing under my skin as venom. I spent six months in the hospital. Doctors made me feel better and therefore, I was going to be a doctor too.

A few years later, I was rushed to the emergency room with what was assumed to be a ruptured appendix. Surgeons opened me up and found a healthy appendix that had poison pustules attached (from the spider bite years before). One had burst, causing a massive infection. My healthy appendix, along with the bad stuff, was removed and I was once again a happy, healthy little girl.

I married at twenty-eight, and by that time my husband and I were definitely exxcited about the prospect of raising a family together. Fun times. Until we realized it wasn't working. Off to another doctor, this one a fertility specialist who performed all the standard tests and concluded we were both happy and healthy adults who might need a little boost.

Drugs. Not the illegal kinds that make you feel good, good, good. The hormonal kind that make you fat and cranky and basically a person nobody wants to be around. Still no baby.

More in-depth tests were performed and, oh, wait... we see something. The doctor gave me a strange look and asked if I'd ever had VD! What? I'd never even had a yeast infection (sorry boys, we are talking about the female reproductive system though). My entire medical history was pulled and the doctor noticed the anomoly with my appendectomy.

Diagnosis: a tiny spider had effectively ended any chance of my having a family of my own without major - and expensive - intervention. The ruptured pustule and resulting infection had caused damage to my fallopian tube and while one was healthy, the corresponding ovary didn't produce those neccessary little eggs to create a little bundle of joy. Crap.

Go into debt or accept our fate? We've been married for nearly a decade and talk rarely strays into the realm of what-if's anymore. So, Mother's day is bittersweet for me, but my hubby always tries to make me feel better by celebrating the holiday for what it represents in our lives... I'm a great kitty-mommy.

Our "babies" have become a fluffy chocolate persian who is entirely ornamental and a stray that adopted us and has become the family snuggle-bug. This isn't a sad day for me or my husband. He still coaches peewee football and I am a second mother to my bff's little girl. The world still turns and we have a lot of time to be best-friends instead of roommates with a child to raise, as many of our closest friends have become.

I suppose it's a tradeoff. We get to spoil ourselves and I have tons of free time to write, but you might notice a recurring theme in my books... in my happy endings, children are always a big part of the equation. I try not to envy the baby bumps I see and only go a little ballistic when I see a pregnant teen smoking a cigarette. I suppose this is a reminder for those harried mother's out there to be thankful for the hellions Mother Nature blessed you with.

Happy Mother's Day!