“I’ll never do this again! It hurts!” I remember crying and screaming those very words as I labored very pitifully to deliver my first child, my baby girl. I easily recall squeezing my own mother’s hand with so much force I thought I might break her bones. Maybe on some primitive, subconscious level, I blamed her for my being there in the first place. Funny how the mind can twist and distort.
After 13 ½ hours of unrelenting labor, during which I was granted only a temporary respite at even intervals, my baby girl was placed on my stomach for the cord-cutting ceremony and I knew. I knew that I was ready to do this all over again. I knew that she was worth all the pain. And I knew that my heart couldn’t possibly hold more love than it did at that very moment.
Was I ever wrong! I was sure my hurt would burst when Kaitlin said “Mama” for the first time. I was almost positive that I would run out of tears when she lost 80% of her hearing at age 3. And I knew tears of unrelenting joy when she gained all of her hearing back at age 4. And then came school days. Nothing could have prepared me for the utter despair I experienced when I helped my baby girl onto the school bus for the very first time. “My baby is growing up. She’s not a baby anymore! What am I going to do without her all day long?” I remember standing there by the side of the road, tears streaming down my face and looking for all the world like I’d lost my mind, and I just didn’t care. I wanted to chase that bus down and wrap my little girl in my arms and never let her go. Desperate thoughts of a very devoted mother: they consumed me.
Of course, after 2 ½ years of mothering a perfect baby girl, I became the very proud parent of a perfect baby boy. Because he was breech, and my labor was assisted, I wasn’t granted pain relief during his delivery. But by the same process, I went through misery and ended at complete happiness. I had a beautiful baby boy, and my little girl was waiting in the hall. I couldn’t wait to introduce them!
Kaitlin took it upon herself to be Ethan’s protector. And even though 12 years have gone by, she still assumes that role. I couldn’t be more proud. Of course, Ethan has pulled quite a few tears from me on his own over the years. From his first words spoken with a lisp (that took 10 years to go away), to watching him play his heart out in a game of basketball, I have always been extremely proud of my baby boy.
But through all the years of watching my children grow and learn and become their own persons, I have never found a more satisfying role for myself. I am a mother, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
