This morning, twenty four years ago, was the first happiest day of my life.
Between 8 and 8:30am, my first child, Bryan, was born. He was a 7lb 8oz baby boy with a full head of hair, dark brown eyes and a high bilirubin count. He was jaundiced. I saw him briefly after delivery but he was whisked away to the nursery and placed in a special bed under blue lights designed to reduce the level of bilirubin. I did not see him again for eight hours.
I was heavily sedated having undergone a Caesarian. My husband assisted in delivery and my best friend, a nurse practitioner, was there for moral support. It was an agonizing day as I waited anxiously to hold my baby for the first time. By the time 4pm rolled around, I was becoming hysterical, worrying about what might be wrong, despite assurances from the nurses this was "routine".
When they finally put that little boy in my arms, I knew love I'd never felt before. Nothing takes the place of carrying a child for nine months, delivering him or her, holding them the first time. It was magic. It was instantaneous. I was bonded.
Some new mothers have to get to know their baby. Some are afraid because they haven't any experience. Some take to it like a duck to water. No matter. If you love them, it's all good.
Family Photos Easter 2005
the year Bryan left for college
Bryan, his father & brother January 2011
My son is now twenty four years old, a college graduate, living in the West, beginning a new chapter in his life; trying to find a real job, pay off school loans and make his way. He's smart, he's funny, he's unbelievably cheerful and a very fine athlete. I didn't know what to expect the day he was born but I could not ask for more.
Children's birthdays are a time for celebration...by their mothers and fathers. So, happy birthday to me!