I forgot, reader, that I was going to explain Rachel's situation with her mother, Shelby Corcoran. You see, Shelby was a surrogate mother for Rachel's fathers. As the Berry mythos goes, the two Berry men mixed their sperm together and impregnated Shelby, in an attempt at not discriminating which of the two of them would be the father. Looking at Rachel, I think it's rather obvious which of the two men is the father; I do not at all mean to come across sounding like a racist, but Rachel is most definitely not black, therefore meaning that the darker skinned of her two fathers, Leroy, is not, in fact, her biological father, but the other, short, dark haired, glasses wearing, Jewish looking man, Hiram. Apart from his height, Rachel does not resemble him much either, but she does, however, look strikingly like her mother. She also inherited her mother's incredible vocals. To be fair, not everything about genetics is clear cut, and without a paternity test, which I assume they have never done, no judgements should be made about Rachel's biological father.
The relationship between Rachel and her mother is a complicated one. Shelby gave her to the Berry men and it seemed Rachel was used to having two fathers and no mother figure, but unbeknownst to anyone, she harboured the secret desire to one day meet her biological mother. It wasn't that the Berry men didn't give her enough love or anything like that, it was just that, as most of us know, there is simply something more comforting about a mother than a father, and as most of us also know, men are simply no good to talk to about some things. I cannot even begin to imagine what it was like for Rachel with neither siblings nor female in the house to go to when she did not want to talk to her fathers. Coming from a household where women outnumber the men three to one, it is almost an incomprehensible situation for me.
Last year, when we were Sophomores, Rachel discovered that her mother was one Shelby Corcoran, and that she was the coach for our rival Glee club, Vocal Adrenalin. Contact ensued and Rachel was on the brink of having a relationship with her mother, just as she'd always wished, only it wasn't ever to happen. Shelby, thrown into the deep end without anything to hold on to, was not at all ready for a teenage daughter. To be fair, reader, she did attempt it; she fixed Rachel's Lady Gaga costume for our Bad Romance number, as neither of the Berry men could sew, but ultimately she felt that her hand in her daughter's life was too much, too suddenly and she could not cope.
For Rachel's sake, I wish the relationship had lasted longer, but you cannot force people into things that they are uncomfortable doing. Coach Sylvester would strongly disagree with me on that point, but I cannot see how forcing Shelby to be around when she did not want to be part of Rachel's life would have helped either of them. I believe it was better that they met, knew how the other was doing and then left each other's lives before trying to push past their insecurities and ruining something which should have been beautiful.
I understand Shelby though. Having given up a daughter, I know something I'm going to regret later in life is never knowing how she is, what kind of person she became, whether I would have raised her the same way, whether I would be proud. Beth and Shelby live in New York, and for a brief moment, I envisioned walking into them on the street during our trip, but that was just a silly daydream. Beth would only be little over a year old, so she would have no idea who I was, but it still would have been lovely. There may be a chance of meeting them again one day; I could always track down Shelby and ask to see her. I'm not sure whether she would agree to such a meeting, but at least I would have the certainty of knowing whether or not it was a realistic option.
Do you know what it feels like, reader to give up your child? It's painful. It's difficult. It's heart wrenching. You feel that you suddenly have a hole in your heart where your child should be. It feels like there are strings of loose flesh hanging down inside your heart and that you could poke a finger through them to the lonely space beyond. You feel like you have a fountain of love and nobody to shower it with because that person, that baby, is gone, taken into the loving arms of someone else. The most difficult thing wasn't signing the papers confirming the adoption, it was holding her, my Beth, my daughter in my arms minutes after birth and crying with the joy of simply having her there, all the while knowing that I wasn't going to be taking her home with me. Do you know what it's like, you stranger, to hold your child, your first born, and having them light up your life, only to know that you're giving them up and the light which came with them? Holding her there, the sweat still drying upon my forehead, hair dishevelled and an uncomfortable ache between my legs, it seemed that all that faded away and that the blood, the sweat and the tears were worth every ounce of effort and pain because the result was a beautiful baby girl. I didn't even notice my mother, Mercedes or Puck in the room while I was holding my daughter; for a moment, it was just she and I.
That's why I sympathise with Shelby, because even though she is the mother raising my daughter, she too went through the same thing. She knew that she was going to give her child to Hiram and Leroy, just as I knew that I was going to give Beth up for adoption, and trust me, reader, knowing and expecting the moment of parting does not make it in the slightest bit easier to bear.
Rachel, well, Rachel doesn't understand this perspective. I don't believe Rachel has ever had anything that she's loved so much that it compares to having a child, so she could not possibly understand the pain of such a separation. I don't believe she appreciates how difficult it was for Shelby to give her up, nor how hard it was for Shelby to see her again. I know that if I met Beth in fifteen years' time with no previous contact, I don't think I would be able to have a fantastic relationship either. It would be too hard, knowing that there was so much that I missed out on, so many milestones, so many developments, from early things like learning to crawl then walk, or talking, as well as the first day of kindergarten, then the first day of middle school, then high school; I would have missed her first boyfriend, or girlfriend, if that's the way she so felt, I would have missed the phases that kids so often go through, I would have missed seeing her walk around with her favourite toy in times of hardship. It's difficult to ignite a relationship with your child when you've missed so much of their life.
Sure, parents are normally thrown into things head first anyway, with no one really knowing what to do with their babies, whether they're behaving correctly, or eating properly, but it's different with a teenager. Parents who have their kids from babies saw all those growing up steps, they are eased into the idea of having a teen; it's difficult for someone who has never had to raise a child suddenly be handed one and all their insecurities and problems and hopes and dreams and goals and whatever else. You feel more lost because you feel that you should be doing things for them, but they are already mostly autonomous; all at once you feel you should treat them as your child, just as they want you to, but you don't know what that involves because they are so adult, dealing with the emotions of an adult, but still holding some of the naivety of youth. You don't know how to deal with that when it's your first time with a child. It's all the more difficult when they're your child, because you feel that you should just know, because you share DNA.
Shelby came into Rachel's life and found a girl who was vastly talented, rather high strung, competitive and demanding, needing to be in control, but she also found a girl who had been bullied, who had deep insecurities and fears and who wanted a relationship which neither of them were ready for. Rachel needed a mother, but Shelby needed a daughter, not a teenager who did things mostly on her own; she needed someone who needed her. And while Rachel did need her, it wasn't in the way Shelby thought she would be needed.
I understand this. I understand why Shelby thought she would have to walk away - why she did. I even understand why she adopted Beth; my daughter was the second chance she never got to have with her own daughter. This time she would do things right from the offset, she would see her through her baby years, through her child years and eventually into her teenage years. I think Rachel resents this, but I also thinks she understands, even if not fully.
Perhaps there'll come a time when Rachel and Shelby meet as adults, when neither requires anything of the other and perhaps that way they will cultivate the relationship they both want. It won't be the same, of course; it will be more a relationship of equals, possibly of friends, but never one of mother and daughter. I do believe it would be good for them to not be cut off from each other for the rest of their lives, for there is not enough closure there for either of them at the moment.
As for Rachel and I, well I cannot say it was easy seeing either of them go through this when I knew that it would one day possibly echo the relationship between myself and my own daughter, and sometimes I think that I should have taken the time to explain things to Rachel, about how Shelby might have felt. But I do not know whether such forwardness would have been welcome, considering that Rachel and I aren't the closest of friends. I may have been overstepping boundaries in saying anything. However, I do think it might have helped settle her mind and bring some comfort to her, simply through understanding. It was something which could possibly have brought us closer as friends, but did not; I didn't offer Rachel support and she did not come to me with questions.
That's in the past now, reader. There is possibly a future ahead, where both Rachel and I are fortunate enough to have a good relationship with our mother and daughter respectively, but that all remains to be seen. We can only hope for the best.
You probably have it in your head, dear reader, that we are a bizarre little family, our group of Glee misfits, and that, my friend, we most certainly are. Puck and I are parents, of a sort, Rachel is the adopted sister of our daughter, and her boyfriend is my ex, who is step brothers with Kurt Hummel because their parents are married. And to continue the family tree on the other side, there is Santana, who used to date Puck, but who is now in love with Brittany, though she will not admit it; she does not have to, the looks she shoots the other girl when she thinks none of us are looking are unable to be missed - a blind person could see them. However, Brittany is dating Artie Abrams, who once used to date Tina Cohen-Chang, who is currently with her boyfriend Mike Chang, and they have been together for quite a while. And then there is Sam, who I used to date, who is close friends with Mercedes, who I used to live with and who is close friends with Kurt. Then there is Mr Shuester, who Rachel used to have a crush on, who used to be married, whose wife planned on adopting my baby because she was lying about her own pregnancy, who are now divorced, and Mr Shue is in love with Ms Pillsbury, our school's guidance counsellor. There is also Lauren Zizes who is dating Puck, and David Karofsky who is with Santana, in a bid by her, probably to hide her sexuality. Yes, reader, you could say we were a pretty strange, twisted family. But we are a family, and that is what matters. When one of us needs help, the rest of us are there.
We have our fights, as you may imagine, and as you have already been informed of, most notably the disagreements between Rachel and myself, but truly, we care about one another more than we care about anyone else in the school. We bonded because we had nowhere else to go and no one else who would listen, and, even despite our outer facades, we are all compassionate people, yes, even Santana who tries to pretend that she cares for no one else. My greatest hope is that our friendship will extend beyond the end of school, although, hopefully, we shall have matured and less drama will surround our small group. I must admit, the drama gets tiring. Even when we go our own ways, I'm sure we will find times to catch up and keep alive old friendships.