I am the fifth of five children, thanks to Catholic procreation. I wouldn’t be here if contraceptives had anything to do with it. Thank God! (I don’t say that here for political reasons relating to the whole abortion issue, but simply in relief that I’m alive!)
My devout mother believed that however many children they had would be God’s plan for her. Around the time of her fourth pregnancy, her secular father pulled her aside. “This has got to stop, Janny,” he said. “It’s getting embarrassing.”
Eleven lonely yet relieved years of near-abstinence went by. I guess my parents just couldn’t hold back any longer one night while watching The Johnny Carson Show. (I learned all of this later when I helped my parents dejunk their house and came upon some Catholic “Marriage Encounter” journals they had written in years before.)
“Were you sad when you found out you were pregnant for the fifth time?” I probed one day, knowing my mom would never want to admit any negative thought about my conception.
“You were our little caboose! Our bonus!”
“Oh, come on, Mom! Eleven years after all the others! You thought you were all done. You can tell me. Did you cry when you found out?”
“Of course not!”
“You had to have. You were about to start all over again at 40. Come on. It’s okay to tell me.”
After about five minutes of this, she said, “Well… Okay, my eyes welled up a little bit when I was walking out of the doctor’s office.”
Not long after I was on the way, she and my dad sought the advice of a more “modern” priest, hoping he’d grant them Catholic clemency for having her tubes tied. He did. When I was born, she sealed the deal. So much for God’s say in it!
It was the beginning of a life being the youngest one in a full house.
to be continued…
Copyright © 2020 Edee Kulper, excerpt from a book in progress
