This Happened to Me | Personal | Life
My Mum Died Before I Was Born
And yet here I am
First things first, don’t skip ahead to find out how. You’ll only spoil it for yourself. Also, it’s true. Trust me, we will get there. Let’s not rush it.
I have shared a few personal stories about myself on Medium before and they seem to have been well received so I thought why not start from the beginning.
The very beginning.
I should not exist. Ross Derbyshire, should not be here, and yet here I am.
Story time.
Have you ever started a new job or even started a new term in school and been forced to sit through those icebreaker sessions where you share your name and something interesting about yourself? Tedious right.
Well the title of this article is my icebreaker.
Hi, I’m Ross Derbyshire and my mother died before I was born.
The looks and stares are brilliant. They make the whole thing worthwhile. There are inevitably a few laughs (usually nervous) but nobody knows how to react.
Before we go on to explain, let’s play a game. What do you think the circumstances surrounding this statement are? Don’t skip ahead! Please, take a minute and think about it.
I’ll help, these are the top two suggestions I’ve heard in real life:
- You’re full of shit. Spoiler: Wrong
- You were born in a lab. Spoiler: I’m not that interesting
At some point in 1986 (as far as I can work out) my mother decided that she wanted a baby. That baby was to be me. She tried to get pregnant but it wouldn’t happen.
I don’t know, or want to think too hard about the details, but for whatever reason it was just not to be.
Fortunately for my mother, she had a friend. A fantastic friend actually. She already had two children of her own and wanted to see her friends dream of being a mother come true.
And that’s where I come in.
My mother (and father, I always forget about him. You’ll see why) and her best friend came up with the idea, I’m assured it was my mother’s idea but I don’t know for certain I can’t exactly ask her, of surrogacy.*
*I honestly don’t know if that’s the right term to use because there were no doctors or anything involved.
Mother wasn’t a wealthy woman, neither was her friend, so they decided to keep things between themselves. Her friend and husband would have a baby on my mothers behalf and upon birth I would be, gifted? to them.
Writing that really just hit home. Sorry for the therapy session here guys.
Anyway.
When I was still two months from being born my mother died. She was knocked down on her way back from work. No drink, no drugs, just wrong place at the wrong time.
It happens. I’ve accepted it.
My father left the area pretty quickly after that I’m told and I don’t even know his name.
So, that’s the story of how my mother died before I was born and also the story of how I ended up with my Mum and Dad.
I can’t help but think sometimes how different my life would have been if things had ended differently.
Ross Derbyshire the writer wouldn’t have existed, or maybe he would. Maybe he would be here telling you all about the time my mother’s best friend gifted her her very own dream.
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