Today is my eldest son’s birthday. He came into the world and changed everything for me, even more than things had already changed when I married. Of course, if you are in the family way as the older folks used to say when the word pregnant was not quite accepted in mixed company, you have to know that sooner or later (and you generally hope sooner) that baby is going to be born and make you a mother. As you may be able to tell from the picture, I was very young. Still in high school when I married. Only seventeen when my son was born. But age doesn’t make a mother. It may make a more mature mother, but a baby makes a mother.
I loved my son from the very first moment I knew he was growing inside me. I didn’t know then he’d be a boy. That was way before the machines that let couples know boy or girl long before they hold the baby in their arms. Then a mother and father had to wait until the doctor said those sweet words, “It’s a boy” or “It’s a girl” as you heard the first warbling cry of your baby.
But while I was ready to hold my baby, I do remember trepidation at the thought of the birthing. I didn’t know what to expect and I was scared of that unknown. When the first labor pains started, I went to my doctor who told me to wait awhile before heading for the hospital. First babies take a while, he said. But he was pretty sure my time had come. So I waited with no idea of how to judge when that right time to go would be. Thank goodness my mother was with us to give advice and with my husband worrying more with each minute that passed, we finally headed to the hospital. I didn’t really want to go. At that point, I was ready to back out or at least wait till morning. But one thing sure, you can’t back out of having a baby or put it off forever.
At the hospital, I went through all the indignities they inflicted on laboring moms then from an enema to shaving places you’d rather they didn’t. All while having contractions. Then they left me alone. Completely and totally alone. That was before hospitals became family friendly. Dads and other family members had to wait out in a waiting room. I was in a dim room all by myself. To deal with the ever increasing pain, I counted the holes in the ceiling tiles, but I had no idea how much pain was the critical level that meant the baby was coming now. Nobody checked on me. They, including my doctor, thought it would be morning before my baby came.
Finally a woman, I suppose a nurse assistant, came into the room and sauntered over to look out the window. She didn’t examine me, but did ask how I was doing. I told her the pains weren’t stopping. Suddenly three or four nurses were surrounding me, checking me out, telling me not to push, putting some kind of gas mask on my face, telling me to take deep breaths. Not ready to deliver that baby themselves. When I woke up in the delivery room, the doctor was there. I guess they got him out of bed and he hustled to the hospital. The baby was fine. A boy. I was fine. A mama. I still remember my first look at him. He was crying, not happy with the rude bright lights of the world, but he was beautiful.
I used my experiences with that first baby when I wrote the birth scene for Tabitha in my Heart of Hollyhill book, Orchard of Hope. I had her counting those little holes in the ceiling tiles. I had her loving the first sight of her baby. I did not use my next day’s experiences. Again things have changed since my son was born. Then they didn’t let new mamas get right up and take showers or walk out of the hospital to go home the way they do now. You stayed five days. And the nurse gave me a sponge bath. That was an experience. I was embarrassed when she kept scrubbing my feet and I realized I had gone barefoot around the house the day before. I had been too scared about the upcoming birth to think about washing my feet which I would have normally done before I went to bed. She was a kind, middle-aged nurse assistant, maybe the one who had wandered into my room the night before, and she didn’t say a word about my dirty feet. But I couldn’t help thinking how those feet must have looked in the delivery room as I gave birth. Maybe they had sheets wrapped around them. Anyway, you can bet when it came time to go to the hospital for the birth of my second child, I made sure my feet were clean.
But dirty feet or not, I was happy to be a mama. What a blessing and a joy. So happy birthday to my son and happy first mama day to me.
Thanks for reading.
P.S. Lots of e-book sales going on with my books. Angel Sister is only 79 cents on Amazon and 99 cents on other sites. The other Rosey Corner books, Small Town Girl and Love Comes Home are on e-book sale too for $2.99 and $3.99 or $3.03. You can get the whole series on your e-reader for less than some fast food meals. These Healing Hills is still $1.99 for a scant few more days. The sale on Angel Sister will last a little longer, but the other prices are going to be gone very soon.
