Motherhood is Not a Monolith by Chelsea Temple
I always knew that someone else would have my child. I always knew that if I was going to be a mother that another woman would have my baby. Anthony Neal Temple was born on December 24th, 2014. I couldn’t tell you what the birth was like, how much he weighed, or how long he was because I wasn’t there. I was at home, in my bed, reading a text sent around four in the morning that told me about his entrance into the world. I didn’t know it then, but this little boy would one day become the person I love most in the world.
Motherhood is not a monolith. There are people in our lives who we love and care for more than our own mothers. There are people who we count as second or bonus moms. There are stepmoms, grandmothers, and aunts who take on the role of mother for those who can’t understand that motherhood is not just a noun, it’s a verb.
At five months old, my nephew was taken by social services from the home where my brother and his girlfriend lived. The social worker in charge of his case gave us two options, take him or let him go into the foster care system. He came home with us.
I was a twenty-something off and on again college student living with my seventy-three-year-old grandmother. The last thing I thought we needed was another person to care for. Then all of a sudden we had this little, crying, hungry baby in our lives who needed constant attention and care. We fed him, changed his diapers, and took him to church, where he became a staple of our aging congregation.
My grandmother who raised me was now teaching me how to raise a child, but while she was telling me to hold him gently, I was carrying him on my shoulder like a farmer does feed for the cows. She was gently bathing him in the bath while I was performing an opera for him with his rubber ducks. But the important things, those I took to heart. Love him fiercely and put him first.
His birth parents were still in his life, but their drug use was something that constantly put them at odds with their desire to take care of their son. In my eyes, they were not putting him first. In my heart, I couldn’t say if I wanted them to be more involved for his sake or to stay out of his life forever, but that choice was taken from me last year. In April 2021, Anthony’s birth mother died from a drug overdose.
My grandmother and I had to sit down and explain to my nephew that his mother would not be coming to see him again. We had talked about death, Jesus, and where people go when they die for almost as long as he learned to talk. God wasn’t merely a subject that we talked about on Sundays, but he was six now, and he no longer accepted simple answers.
He wanted to know where she was, where her body was (she was cremated), and if he could still talk to her. I answered those questions as honestly as I could, and for months when I put him to bed, I held him a little tighter.
I always knew someone else would have my children, but I could never have guessed that the Lord would take their birth mother away in such a fashion. It was then that I knew that I had to fully step into my title as a mom.
For years, I had resisted when people referred to me as his mother or when I mentioned him on my social media. I was always Chelsea, and he was always my nephew, though I was the one fulfilling the role of mother. How could I claim something that I felt no right to, and now, that his mother had passed, how could I ruin the memories that he had of her?
Then, I started to think about her. Her name was Chastity. She was his mother. She was the person who brought him into the world. She was the one that despite her sickness, always had a smile on her face and kind words for her son. She was the one who always liked and commented on every photo of him that I posted. And I knew that though she was no longer with us, she would want this little boy to have a mother, a mother, not just in duty, but in title.
I adopted him, officially, later that year.
We often refer to the Lord as our Father. He is the one, despite our earthly families, the one who created us, the one who loves us above all others, and the one who is always there without judgment or suspicion. He is a comfort to all those who trust in him. We are put on this earth to act as stewards, as comforters and caretakers to those that we love. How could I deny my nephew that? How could I fail him or his birth mother?
Today, he is seven years old. He loves playing sports, watching Youtube, and trying to teach our twelve-year-old chihuahua new tricks. I get called mom more and more often these days, but now, there is no rebuttal, I simply smile knowing that I have been given the opportunity to take care of and love this little boy while I can. I smile knowing that there is another person, though not here, looking down at both of us and smiling too. I hold him a little tighter for the two of us. And while I will never have the opportunity in this life to thank his mother for the incredible gift that she gave me, I know that I will do everything in my power to raise him with her spirit and memory in mind.
Chelsea Temple is an English teacher from East Tennessee. Her favorite part of having a relationship with the Lord is that she always has someone to see her classic "side-eye" look. She believes that the Lord appreciates her humor while she tries to appreciate all of his. She attends Lyons Park Missionary Baptist in Church Hill, Tennessee.