11 Jul 2016

Happy birthday son



I found out I was pregnant in 1989.  I was 20 years old and had been with my baby's father for about 18 months.  I was as happy as I knew how to be and although I was terrified of not being a good enough mother, I was excited to anticipate this new arrival.  We had very little money and my partner was paying child support on 3 children from a previous marriage so I scoured second hand stores to find the things I would need for my little #bundleofjoy and spent hours washing, folding and cleaning what I found.  

I discovered so many anxieties while I was #pregnant, not least of which was my fear of #expecting too much.  I was very firm in not thinking of my #baby as male or female as something told me not to put that pressure on my unborn child, to simply love the child regardless of gender.  I also read everything I could find in an effort to learn all I could.  I judged my family so I didn't want to parent as they did.  I was terrified I would abuse my child because I had been abused myself.  A wonderful psychologist helped me calm down about that and I tried to just settle into impending #motherhood.  Perhaps my unconscious anxiety remained and my partner was anxious too so I tried not to be too excited around him.  I really was young and scared but I wouldn't admit that then to anyone, I didn't know how to admit it.  I worked in a factory until I was about 20 weeks and developed preeclampsia.  Once I started #maternity leave I spent many hours hugging my ever expanding belly and speaking words of love to my beautiful unborn child.

I dreamed of this child too and it surprised me as I rarely remembered dreams and most of the ones I did remember before that had been frightening nightmares so to have lovely dreams of my baby was fabulous.  In these dreams I never saw the baby's face but I felt a "knowing" as if this baby and I knew each other already and felt great #love for each other.  I found comfort in the dreams and relaxed as I went.  I worried that I was having a baby for the wrong reason and questioned my own motives endlessly but always came up with the same answer: I wanted to give life to that #soul.  I knew that the baby was not "mine", that I didn't "own" the baby.  I believed totally that the baby was a gift from God for me to take care of and help to grow into a loving, responsible adult.  I felt ready even with my fear.

My son was a textbook baby and toddler.  He had blond hair with red flecks when he was born.  He was big, bonny, bouncy and bright and he captured my heart from the first day I saw him.  I felt so numb as I held him and panicked.  I decided I was going to love him no matter what it took and suddenly I fell madly in love, my heart just filled to overflowing as I looked at him in my arms just by having the thought.  I spent the next 3 years devoted to his health and wellbeing and they are still 3 of the best years that I have lived in this lifetime.  His hair ended up really bright red, in the sunlight it looks like spun gold thread and I have often been mesmerized by that hair.  

My beautiful little boy was smart, clever, well spoken, polite, funny, kind, gentle, loving and generous.   He loved football, fishing, cricket, his friends, acting the goat, his family and his music.  He was and still is amazing.  He wasn't some perfect little angel, he got in trouble like any other child can and he has walked his own path of individuality.

I moved away from him and his sister the week of his 14th birthday to save my own life and for the next year I drove 1200kms every six weeks just to see them because I couldn't bear to be away from them.  I had counseling every day to get through it and lived in a car for 3 of those months myself.  I had no money and no self-esteem.  I was suicidal and scared and I just wanted to get well for my kids back then.  It was devastating for all of us.  Every 6 weeks I would drive down, pick seeds and cuttings for the petrol money and drive home 2 days later.  It was grueling and torturous and I'm not sure how any of us survived it.

My son became a man without his mother and he struggled as anyone would.  We stayed in touch as much as we could with no phone and he came to live with me a couple of times but always went back.  I feel really lucky that my kids knew how much I loved them and I loved them more than life itself.

My son has his own children now and they are every bit as gorgeous as him.  I don't see him as much as I'd like and sometimes it's 2 years between visits.  We talk on the phone almost every week because he rings me and talks about whatever comes to mind and although I miss him, I feel like I'm there with him on those days.  He's a wonderful young man with his own cross to bear and he struggles sometimes like we all do.  He's loud and brash and sometimes aggressive but I know him and he has a huge heart of gold underneath all that bravado.

My #son is 26 today.  He's still my gorgeous 'little blue' and I still love him dearly, my daughter too.  I feel blessed and grateful to have such amazing and delightful kids and I hope they are as happy as they can ever imagine being.  I may not always agree with their choices but they walk their own path and I want only their happiness.  I love how real my son is with me, even when I get upset. I'm proud of you mate, I love you no matter what and I hope you have a fabulous day.

Happy birthday blue xx

At+Onement
#son
#love
#birthday
#mother
#family

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