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Who gave you permission to grow up ?

19.06.02 @ 20:33
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Tonight marks a milestone of sorts. It was 9 years ago tonight that I went to bed childless and woke up to become a mother.

I remember that day as if it were only yesterday, mainly because the last nine years have happened so fast it feels like he should still be a baby in my arms.

It all started about 5 am that morning when I woke up to a sensation that felt strangly like somebody trying to run a steamroller over my internal organs. At first I tried to brush it off, but soon it became clear that this was not going to get better or go away anytime soon.

By 6 am I tried to wake up Mike to get to the hospital, but as he was suffering from a combination of overwork and too many beers the house could have been on fire and he wouldn't have noticed. I remember driving to Meritcare and parking my car in the garage and walking up to the 4th floor. Maternity ward. Having never given birth before, nervous and paniced would have been serious understatements. It wasnt' pleasant however it felt nothing like what I had seen and heard it was supposed to feel like.

How was I supposed to know I would soon find out, that I was still at the tip of the perverbial ice berg. Back Labor they call it. Sounds more like something one would do on a construction site after the main crew has gone home. IT doesnt' begin to describe the sensation of having giant hands wring your vital organs like a giant washcloth.

I use the washclothe analogy because one they broke my water it was like Noah's ark, and that's when everything kicked up quite a few notches. Thank God for the Demerol. I don't know if I would do the same were I to have another baby but at the time, well it didn't cut the pain, but I was in a state of mind where I no longer cared. Heck they could have amputated my toenails and I doubt I would have minded. My friends however were intrigued to get a phone call from someone in the middle of labor. The peole at work found it strangely amuseing as well. My parents couldn't get packed an on the road fast enough.

Finally I did manage to get ahold of Mike, who of course was also in the middle of a major work project and had to finish it first.

By 3:23 pm Sunday June 20, 1993 I was a full fledged, scared out of my wits, now what do I do mother. The first few days were well blended in to one week long day, but eventually Warren and I figured out this breastfeeding thing and settled down in to a tug of war that seems to continue to this day. The only thing I regret about that day, was that I hemoragged so bad that Mike got to hold Warren before I did.

We didnt' even have a name picked out. I was convinced he was a girl, and Mike wanted the name Melissa, but I knew a Melissa in high school and wasn't about to name any child of mine after her. I liked KasAndra, but he had a friend who already had a Cassandra. I looked over at my son and the first name that came to my head was Warren. (watching too many hours of Santa Barbara while morning sick 24/7 the name was stuck in my head). Since that was the first thing I called him, the name just stuck. Mike liked it and so Warren Michael ******** was born. All red fuzzy headed, 7 pounds 4 1/4 ounces - 19.5 inches of him. Hard to believe only 9 years later he is 4' 9" and 125 pounds.

Tommorrow we will go out to eat, Warren's choice and then come home and share the NASCAR cake he picked out with the kids in the neighborhood. Yesterday we shopped for his birthday present. A remote control boat. From Grandma the Star Wars edition of Life. (mommy loves this one as much as Warren). Dad has yet to give him a present, and when I tried to call the phone was temporarily disconnected.

This is the last year my baby will be a single digit. Next year we enter the double digits. And three years after that a teenager will move in and take the place of my child. Now that is far more scary than going in to labor.

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~*~Have you read these~*~

~ Ode to a child who is no more ~
~ She's baaack ~
~ testing ~
~ Facebook me ~
~ Bleech ~

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Mini-Bio

In every neighborhood there is at least one house that all the neighbors gossip about. This is a diary from the woman who lives in that house. I am a single mother in her mid thirties. I live in North Dakota with my son, Warren.

I tend to be a bit of a slob, and am the opposite of a girly-girl. I am geek girl, who loves Star Wars, Star Trek, Harry Potter, Buffy, Angel, action movies, science fiction, action adventure, Dr. Who, and so on and so on.

I love to write and while I don't post much fiction online anymore I would love to be a writer someday. I am also overweight, bipolar and suffer from allergy induced asthma.

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