The Hand That Blocks The Cradle

When you're young... you feel like there will always be plenty of time to do this or to do that... later on.

You're young... rebellious... adventurous... a free spirit... and, I might add, dumb.

All of this was true for Detrice... a part-time daycare worker... in her late-20s... who grew up in a nearby inner city housing project.

Detrice liked to go out to clubs and party... my club was her favorite. She drank hard liquor... like a cowboy... Hennessy straight-up "in a dirty cup," she would say. And in between drinks, Detrice was known to slip outside into the shadows to smoke her weed (marijuana). She smoked her weed from a Blunt cigar... that she would freak (remove all of the tobacco and the tobacco liner and re-rolled the outer cigar leaf with the cigar tobacco mixed with weed).

Her best friend was Ron... a big friendly fellow who partied the same as Detrice... with a lot of Hennessy... and a lot of weed.

Unlike most people their age... both Detrice and Ron loved to just sit, drink, talk and listen to the music. They very seldom got up to dance. Even on their favorite songs, they would just sit there and sing along... like a couple of old fogeys in an Irish pub.

For many years... the two of them were inseparable... until rumors began to swirl that Ron was gay... a homosexual. He had been caught in bed (by some of their mutual friends) with another man. But none of this even phased Detrice. Ron was her friend. And she didn't care what anyone thought about him.

But it was as if the rumors about his sexuality... in the hood... were too much for Ron... as he drifted slowly away from Detrice into his own little world. Three years later... Ron was rushed to the hospital for what he thought to be a stomach virus... only to find out that it was full-blown AIDS. He died soon after.

Detrice was devastated by the news of Ron's death... and how he died. Now... surrounded by people who did not look after her like Ron had done when they were together, Detrice began to over-indulge in everything... liquor, weed, sex.

She was mellow... a nice looking lady with a small figure, gray eyes and brownish shoulder-length hair. So, Detrice never had any trouble attracting men. But because she didn't make very much money as a daycare worker, Detrice often chose men who could support her dope habit. They either sold weed or used it as heavily as she did.

One day, the guys in my bar were circulating the rumor that Detrice was pregnant. And I was totally surprised by the news. I had thought that she was smarter than that. Sex without protection... especially after her friend, Ron, had died of AIDS?

But it was true. Detrice confirmed it herself. Already certain that I had probably heard about her unplanned pregnancy, Detrice entered the bar one day, ordered a Bud Ice beer and blurted out, "Ms. Dee, you know I'm pregnant." And so as not to offend her intelligence, I admitted to her that I had heard the rumors.

But when I asked Detrice what she wanted to have... a girl or a boy... she was quick to say, "Oh, no! Neither one! No, I don't keep babies, Ms. Dee. And I ain't gonna keep this one."

"Shit... I work around babies all day long. And I'll be damn if I have to come home and deal with some more babies," she concluded... waving her hands back and forth in front of her, as she smiled and turned her head from left to right. "No! Not me!"

As I was to find out later... Detrice was painfully honest. She, indeed, "don't keep babies". She had had six previous abortions. And this one was to be her seventh.

And true to her word... a week or two later... Detrice entered the bar and said to me, "Ms. Dee, you can tell everybody Detrice ain't pregnant no more. I took care of it."

It saddened me deeply to hear the words come out of her mouth... knowing that she had aborted her baby... for no other reason than she didn't feel like being a mother. And then to just plop herself down on my bar stool and order some Hennessy and a bottle of beer... like she hadn't just ended her baby's life... was beyond my understanding.

Weeks and months put the whole matter behind Detrice. By now, she was about 31-32 years old. And a younger man had caught her fancy. He wasn't from around here. He held three jobs. And he didn't drink or smoke... cigarettes or weed. Well... Detrice tumbled head-over-heels in love with the young man... even to the point of cutting back on her drinking and giving up smoking.

It wasn't very long before the two were a pair... living together. And it wasn't long after that that Detrice became pregnant again... only months after her last abortion. But this baby was HIS baby. And for the first time in her life... Detrice wanted to keep her baby.

While she was pregnant, he doted over Detrice... and he pampered her. And we all marvelled at the tremendous change in Detrice as she embraced the idea of motherhood.

But all was for naught. Detrice had a miscarriage in the second trimester of her pregnancy. And she and her man took the loss extremely hard. His misery was compounded, however, when the rumor mill hipped him to the fact that Detrice had had seven previous abortions... the last one just months before her recent pregnancy with his child.

He couldn't help but think that all of those abortions may have contributed to Detrice's miscarriage with his child. So, in anger, he left her... moved out.

In the meantime, Detrice's sorrows were compounded by the fact that her pregnancy had left her with a huge weight-gain. She was no longer small and attractive. She was plump and feeling less attractive. But worst of all, she was heart-broken. She had lost her man... the love of her life.

But Detrice just couldn't give up on their relationship.

It took some doing. But Detrice managed to mend the rip in her relationship. And 8 or 9 months later... Detrice reunited with her young beau.

Now, she is pregnant again. Carrying his second child.

Detrice has quit her job, completely stopped drinking and smoking (of any kind) and is staying at home trying to do everything and anything to keep her baby.

You know... it's funny how when I saw Detrice around the Labor Day holiday, she said, "Pray for me, Ms. Dee... and my baby. This is my seventh month. Keep your fingers crossed."

After aborting seven pregnancies... on a whim... at the drop of a hat... without a second thought, Detrice was now praying... and hoping... and wishing with all of her might... to be able to have a baby.

Seven innocent souls aborted... and one tragic miscarriage... was what it took for Detrice to realize that the new life that she had conceived in her womb was indeed precious... a blessing to behold... a gift from God.

The question now is... did Detrice find this out too late?

Seven months and counting.

I'll keep you posted.

The rhythm of this blue note is: Be careful when you set out your trash... that your blessings are not mixed in with your garbage.

On Monday, October 11th, Detrice delivered a healthy 7-pound baby girl.

And the thought of having a baby that once made Detrice shutter... has completely left her mind... now that she is a mother.

Now... ain't that something?!

This past May was Detrice's first Mother's Day... as a mother!

And Mother's Days are a huge occasion in our bar... especially since our bar is run by women.

Celebrating mothers and motherhood is very important to us. We want the mothers to have a special night where they feel truly appreciated.

So, we hand out long-stemmed roses and special gifts to every mother who comes through our doors. For some of these mothers... these are the only gifts they receive for Mother's Day.

Sad... but true.

Our Mother's Day festivities usually start around 9 p.m. But all of the mothers... dressed up in their Sunday's best... usually come 2 or 3 hours early... to make sure that they get a seat.

And once the festivities start... and the drinks start to take effect... off go the high heels... and on goes the party!

The mothers sing! They dance! They laugh and shout... right out loud! They even serenade the men customers and dare them to join them on the dancefloor!

All of the mothers really let their hair down... so-to-speak... with the underlying theme being pride... pride in themselves for being and doing everything they have to be and do for their children.

We always say that the job title of "mother" is a hard title to wear. The job never ends. And pride is about the only reward a mother will receive for a job well-done.

And as I gazed into the faces of all of the mothers who had gathered on this Mother's Day to celebrate their motherhood... in among the faces was Detrice's... glowing and almost teary-eyed.

When her eyes met mine... she yelled, "Happy Mother's Day, Miss Dee!" And I turned on my microphone and replied... right back at her... what she had waited nearly two years to hear, "Happy Mother's Day, Detrice! Now, you're a Mommy Dearest!"

And ever since that night, "Mommy Dearest" has been my new nickname for Detrice. Her face lights up with an instant grin whenever I call her that.

And while the father of her little daughter has already flown the coop... oddly... his absence doesn't seem to bother Detrice much.

Detrice seems stronger and more confident in herself. Maybe because she realizes that she has to be all things to her baby girl... a mother and a father. Or maybe it's because she has finally realized her own worth and that there is nothing or no one more precious than the fruit of her womb.

Whatever the reason for her new inner strength... the center of Detrice's universe is no longer her man... but her child.

Now, ain't that a mother for you?!