Too many hours. Too much of nothing. So little progress left both The Husband and me looking and feeling much like this.
As midnight on the second day approached, we were both utterly and completely exhausted. The drugs that they had given me were wearing off and every pregnant woman who had been wheeled in after had come and gone with their new bundles of joy. Our doctor had brought in a specialist to consult who was so brash and miserable, she frankly scared the shit out of me. She actually threatened...yes I said threatened...me with a C-section. Well, I was having none of her bullshit and decided right then and there that this woman wasn't going to come within 10 metres of me and my unborn tiny human ever again.
This baby was going to be born and be born the old fashioned way, even if I had to rip it out myself.
By the way...a quick word about prenatal classes. As first-time parents, we were absolutely enrolled. There were supposed to be ten sessions. As a result of our earlier than planned delivery, we only managed to attend four. Obviously, we missed quite a bit that probably would have come in handy during our extended labour and delivery. When The Husband called our instructor to advise her that we would not be returning due to the birth of the baby, she asked if her teaching had been beneficial. The Husband answered very much like this...
Midnight of another day came and went and we were still waiting. Finally, at around 2:00 am they took me into delivery and after approximately 37 1/2 hours of labour (yes, you read that correctly!) at 2:32 am on the morning of September 3rd, 1987, out he came complete with ten toes and eleven fingers. Of course, none of us, not the doctors, nurses, The Husband, nor I noticed the genetic polydactylism until the next day. We were all simply too exhilarated to care and too exhausted to count.
They took him from me to weigh, measure, and APGAR and told me that normally they would have wheeled us both back to a room, but they really wanted me to sleep. I didn't need the coaxing. Within a half an hour I was like...
They took him from me to weigh, measure, and APGAR and told me that normally they would have wheeled us both back to a room, but they really wanted me to sleep. I didn't need the coaxing. Within a half an hour I was like...
And The Husband was headed home for a nap.
As morning on the third day arose, I was completely mesmerized and totally and completely in love. I was also acutely aware that I had missed the funeral of my friend. So many people I knew were in a state of vacillation. They wept with joy for the birth of our Older Son and at the same time, they wept with sadness for the passing of a dear one.
There will always be a bit of sadness associated with that time. It honestly can't be helped. Life is indeed a strange circle. But the joy that I felt then and still feel today thirty years later, is untrammeled and limitless. The pleasure and delight I feel whenever I look into my son's face and the pride I experience whenever I admire the man he has become, is infinite. He is the reason that I am a mother. I love him more today than I did yesterday and less than I know I will tomorrow.
Today I wish him the happiest of birthdays. I know that milestones like this one are difficult for him and I won't push too much. I am stunned at the mercurial passage of thirty years, but I will simply say this to my Older Son:
You are the fiercely independent one. The one who has always been smarter and more determined than almost everybody and never been afraid to show it to anyone. You do not suffer fools and you do not do stupidity. You don't do phony and you refuse to pretend. You are incredibly moral and you live by your values even when others don't always understand you. You have been called "quirky" and "weird" and "sarcastic" and "different", but we both know that all of that is the beautiful and unique side of you. You are brilliant and funny, talented and decent. You have challenged me since that very first day thirty years ago and I have loved all of that about you and more, now and always. I love you my Older Son. Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow. Happy new decade to both of us. Celebrate it well and never be shy about being your authentic self.
No comments:
Post a Comment