The Genetic Code: One Woman’s Story on How Genetics Pave the Way For and Impact Your Life Forever
Two Plus Two, Equals Four
My mother worked for her father, until she was put on bed rest while pregnant with my brother. Martin was constantly in and out of doctor’s office and hospitals-so, my mother really didn’t have the time to go back to work, after he was born. Then, about seven months after Martin was born, my mother had a doctor’s appointment. While at this appointment, as the doctor began to urge her to not get pregnant again just yet-she had to interrupt. The facts were, she was already almost positive that she was already pregnant again. So, they confirmed this.
And so the story of the LeBlanc family, plus Tiffani, has begun. My mother and father both longed for two children -one boy and one girl. When they found out that they were having a little girl, they were ecstatic-and relived. The chances of them having a little girl with the same medical issues as Martin, was quite slim.
My mother’s pregnancy with me went a little smoother-aside of becoming very much larger, extremely fast (you see, I am currently 5’10” and my mother is merely 4’9”). In March of 1987, here I came. They tell me that I came out screaming and I was gorgeous from the beginning (their words, not mine).
As time went on, my parents got more and more comfortable with Martin’s medical conditions and I quickly but, healthily continued to grow. My mother was able to go back to work in 1991. And, while this worked out for a while, it only took about two years for them to realize that it may just be a little easier for my mom to be able to stay home and tend to the house and kids. Susan loved being a stay at home mom and she very much enjoyed the time that it gave her with us (her children). I can remember that on some days, she would build forts with us while she watched her ‘stories’ (A.K.A. soap operas).
When I was about 12, my parents got divorced. It was then that my mother decided, she has a new commitment that she wanted to live up to. As we grew up, she always tried her best to keep us in constructive extracurricular activities, thus she had to go back to work. My mother wanted us to have our own place. However, with a child like Martin and wanting to provide us with extras, that would have been awfully hard to do. And so, we move in with my grandmother.
When I was in junior high and high school, we all three lived with my grandparents. They managed to put us through the school clubs that we wanted to participate in. My brother was even in the Explorer Scouts, working with the volunteer fire department in our small town. I had dance team in junior high and soccer in high school. And we were both very active in school club, such as, Diversity. My brother and I were fairly good kids, in my humble opinion.
However, through all this time, unbeknownst to us all, my mother was suffering from bipolar disorder. As more and more time went on, she got progressively less happy, and less stable. Once she began going through menopause, it is almost as if (well, exactly as if) she completely lost control. And, I honestly think, that, that is super understandable. I can not even imagine living my life, with no control over my moods, on a regular basis. I can only imagine the hurt, and hate you can develop for yourself. After all, it’s so easy to be against something that we do not understand. And, no one wants to feel like ‘something is wrong with them.‘ When, in all honesty, isn’t that exactly what makes a person, so real? It’s their flaws. ‘Realness’ is attractive. And flaws are real. The beautiful imperfections.