Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Mother Mary are you there?

The doorbell rang at 10:00 a.m. I was on the phone speaking to the fertility doctors' office to make a follow up appointment. I said hello to Adrianna and Ana as I asked them to wait one moment while I finished my call. They are two women who come into our home once every two weeks and clean it like nobody's business. They weren't coming to clean today, however, they were coming over to take me to see their "friend" who does Mayan/Mexican massage to help women get pregnant.

I drove them about 30 miles East of los angeles to a very poor part of El Monte, to meet Maria, the mexican massage doctor. We made awkward conversation at first. All the while I had Haiti on my mind. Wanting nothing more than to fly there and help those kids. Adopt those babies. Help those people. But in my desire to have a child I have decided to try anything and flying to Haiti apparently is not on the list today. So I am driving through hellish traffic, with my housekeepers to try the witch doctor approach. Which, by the way, I'm in full support of.

I walked into Maria's apartment with Adrianna (who speaks no English) and Ana who is 19 and is Adrianna's niece and is sweet enough to come along and translate the whole experience. We were greeted by Maria her bright green eyes, hunched back, arthritic leg and sparkly smile was a welcome relief from the congested freeways of Los Angeles. Walking through her very small apartment (probably government housing) with the gigantic flat screen TV blaring Mexican soap operas, two small children crusty, dirty, beautiful and running around with a chihuahua and her daughter cooking pork on the stove, I made my way into a dingy bedroom with two full beds.

As I lay down on the bed, I'm not going to lie, I was freaked out by the dirt on the bedspread. I hesitated but didn't want to be rude, so I put my Gap scarf on the bedspread, took my jeans off, left my shirt on and underwear. Maria massaged my belly. Deep into my belly. Her crowned front teeth glimmered off the dusty sunshine through the dirty drapes. I looked up at the Mother Mary statue hanging on the wall, garfield stuffed animals (30 plus) arranged neatly on the bed. She rubbed arnica on my belly, thighs and told me my feet were too cold to get pregnant. I need to wear socks. She slapped my bum, rubbed my Uterus (apparently it's crooked) and said go home and have sex with your husband. You will get pregnant tonight. Okay. Easy enough. Problem is he's not home tonight. He's flying home from San Francisco. Drats.

I have decided that Ana and Adrianna are the sweetest women I know. They want so badly for me to get pregnant. They put socks on my feet. Told me twenty times if they told me once to take it easy tonight. I was told to drink two cups of Arnica tea and stay warm. Maria, the green eyed witch doctor has said she is going to put a candle at the feet of the Mother Mary which is large and decorated just to the left of her front door. She is going to pray to Mary for me. In my sheepish appreciation I asked that she also pray for the people of Haiti. For it is times like these that our own wants and desires become glaringly small in comparison.

I believe in all forms of healing, medicine, and absolutely believe in prayer. In front of a statue deep in El Monte tonight is a candle lit by Maria to help the children of Haiti and to assist me, this privileged American, who wants nothing more than to be a mother. I would absolutely without a doubt, be the mother to any baby who needs it tonight from that hellish nightmare in Port Au Prince. Wish I could figure that one out.

Note to self: Angels are everywhere, hidden, hovering, helping where they can.

1 comment:

  1. You are so incredibly destined to be a mom, Andrea.