Good morning to all of you out there in blogland. Today is my son's birthday. My gosh, he is 33. Where has the time gone? It feels like just yesterday I was holding him in my arms, and now he is a man. His birth was one for the history books...at least my book, anyway.
In the hospital clinic where I was getting my pre-natal care, you were taken care of my midwives...unless you had a difficult pregnancy. Midwives not only saw you through your nine months of pregnancy, but also through delivery. Everything was going fine until I hit my 9th month. The midwife then informed me that she felt two heads...Was I having twins? I was sent for further tests. Turns out that my son was breach. The midwife then referred me to the doctors...who, if the baby was big enough, would be able to turn him for a normal birth. The midwife told me it should be no problem, that I was having a large baby...but the doctors said 'no'...he was far too small to turn. So, my darling son came out...butt first...no lie. He was 8 lb. 3 oz. and 21 inches long...actually large enough to turn, but the 'doctors' had it wrong; the midwife was correct.
I'd always worried about being a mother. I was an only child, coming from a small family with no one but my own mother to model my mothering skills on. I felt so vulnerable about my abilities. I did know that I didn't want to repeat the same negative pattern of mothering that my own mother had chosen, but knowing what I wanted and doing it were two separate matters. So, many questions arose. Was I doing too much for my son or not doing enough? Was I too strict, or was I too permissive? Was I allowing him room for growth, or was I smothering him with my protectiveness? I was so inexperienced.
But, the fact is, all those worries were for nothing. We do the best we can at the time, and that is all we can do. We are not super heroes...we make mistakes...and we learn to forgive ourselves. And, I must have a done a good job...My son has grown into such a wonderful, caring man...a man with so much love in his heart for others, for animals, for the world in general. Through my own process of mothering and making my mistakes, I have learned to forgive my own mother for the mistakes that she made with me.
Happy Birthday, Jerry.