"CHILDREN":
"The two good friends I enjoyed caring for till they could care for themselves."
"The universe resounds in the joyful cry ~ "I am ! "
The sound of a newborn, this quote from Scriabin", a caption beneath the photo of a newborn, in the famous Photo-essay by Steichen, with prologue by Carl Sandburg, "Family of Man" MOMA'55 . It was revolutionary when it impressed me, as a teen, in the sixties, and still does.(The Book is also available from Simon&Schuster 1955 #55-8929)
Please stop, for one whole minute, and think about the "Miracle of Life", the newborn, the aged and all others, in all life forms! Delight in the fact that each moment is a re-birth, of a sort, for each of us.
To my grown children, about to marry and raise their own families, just this one thing: "Do not be afraid !"
If you are able to perceive the basic message of parenting - the gift of life - and the privilege of participation in the growth and development of your children, natural or adopted, then you do have a thing to celebrate every day!
The delight in discovery of the aspects, grand and minute, in your selves, and in them, in the interaction, is a divine thing!
If parenthood is not in your destiny, look around the life you enjoy, and you may find that some of that divine thing is there, anyway! Somehow, the lights we need to see our way, though they may shine along diverse paths, are a grand unifier, lifelong! Just don't stumble along and miss it all!
You have been much too well loved for that. In heaven or on earth, a parent's love and connection to the child is there, forever, in its best form, forever! It's yours! One of life's gifts, and the wise find it and put it to good use.
As for me:
I had seen my husband and children in my heart, and in my "mind's eye" long before, as I painted, prayed, worked and dreamed, as young girls often did, and do.
My generation was born to World War II vets and their ladies ... we were the "Baby Boomers".
Things were different - as today, things are 'different' for my own children - but there were plenty of helps in our challenging days to enlighten, and joyfully, as we married and began our own families:
Church and schools helped with plenty of the new approach to things.
The Bible was everywhere, not just in church.
Haim Ginnot, Sesame Street and Misterogers and others helped with serious, yet delightful, "tools" for the day.
On the radio, James Taylor followed with, "teach your children well...their Father's love is what they go by..."
Cat Stevens with, "Oh, very young, what will you leave us this time?" and half a dozen others inspired with really respectable inspiration...sourced and from Truth, and evolved beyond... a person did not need a degree in Child Psychology to be correctly intellectually inspired in parenting. Some of the best thinking available anywhere was right on the rock station, on our 'ray-dee-ohs'. It gave me the idea that we had achieved something wonderful, as a species, and it made me want to do more, and do it better than I'd thought I could do , at first.
And to pass on that wonderful message, there was plenty of just plain fun!
The important things in work and love were still the same.
Every generation seems to grasp essential messages for the basics of parenting for best results. We met it all with a positive and loving and energetic mind.
and a happy heart!
I remember being grateful for all the handy 'tools' within my easy reach. There seemed to be moments when I was out of
my young woman's focus to reach out to others, and it was reassuring, for those moments, that I was into the Truth of things and in a special place of agreement, in a diverse world.
My Church "Celebrates Life" in a "Civilization of Love" and this approach was re-vitalized and made clear to us, just when we needed it.
Mainstream childcare for the two-career home shared rules that worked for all, and reassured.
Law and order finally made ending child abuse an overt and active business.
and... Author Kahlil Gibran told us, similar to my Catholic Education studies, in his prophetic notes:
God (or whatever you experience as the Source of all Life) is the Archer.
Our Children are the Arrows, new life, soaring toward the heavens .
Parents are the Bow; the means, the matrix, the stabilizer, and the guide.
God (or however you experience the life source) uses the parent to support and direct the child into actualization of its best destiny.
We are a team - God, Parent and the Child - indivisible !
"Soar high and true, most-loved children!
I count among friends, really worthwhile adults, some who liked and some who disliked their childhood.
Abuse or want was not really the issue:
No matter how idyllic or challenged, I have been told that some will not be content till they are growups.
They do just fine in life, and many are happy parents, undaunted by their own restless and even troubled childhood.
I think what is important is that the opportunities to make a great life do not need to be the privilege of those whose childhood was idyllic.
Parenthood is a fancy business, from the start, and though we do well at empty-nesting new-fun, so far, parenthood does not really seem to finish. At the very least, some custom-made grownup friends, with special rights, and graces, remain. Delight !
I would like to hear the stories of others, and invite question and comment: contact link at the top of this page.
Garden Fun & Life-Bonding:
Bonnie Plants Children's Cabbage Project
from this garden items company, focuses on the life magic of growing things.
Remembering such moments in my own childhood, and that of my children, I was charmed, and thought to share it here.
"The universe resounds in the joyful cry ~ "I am ! "
The sound of a newborn, this quote from Scriabin", a caption beneath the photo of a newborn, in the famous Photo-essay by Steichen, with prologue by Carl Sandburg, "Family of Man" MOMA'55 . It was revolutionary when it impressed me, as a teen, in the sixties, and still does.(The Book is also available from Simon&Schuster 1955 #55-8929)
Please stop, for one whole minute, and think about the "Miracle of Life", the newborn, the aged and all others, in all life forms! Delight in the fact that each moment is a re-birth, of a sort, for each of us.
To my grown children, about to marry and raise their own families, just this one thing: "Do not be afraid !"
If you are able to perceive the basic message of parenting - the gift of life - and the privilege of participation in the growth and development of your children, natural or adopted, then you do have a thing to celebrate every day!
The delight in discovery of the aspects, grand and minute, in your selves, and in them, in the interaction, is a divine thing!
If parenthood is not in your destiny, look around the life you enjoy, and you may find that some of that divine thing is there, anyway! Somehow, the lights we need to see our way, though they may shine along diverse paths, are a grand unifier, lifelong! Just don't stumble along and miss it all!
You have been much too well loved for that. In heaven or on earth, a parent's love and connection to the child is there, forever, in its best form, forever! It's yours! One of life's gifts, and the wise find it and put it to good use.
I had seen my husband and children in my heart, and in my "mind's eye" long before, as I painted, prayed, worked and dreamed, as young girls often did, and do.
My generation was born to World War II vets and their ladies ... we were the "Baby Boomers".
Things were different - as today, things are 'different' for my own children - but there were plenty of helps in our challenging days to enlighten, and joyfully, as we married and began our own families:
The important things in work and love were still the same.
Every generation seems to grasp essential messages for the basics of parenting for best results. We met it all with a positive and loving and energetic mind.
and a happy heart!
and... Author Kahlil Gibran told us, similar to my Catholic Education studies, in his prophetic notes:
God (or whatever you experience as the Source of all Life) is the Archer.
Our Children are the Arrows, new life, soaring toward the heavens .
Parents are the Bow; the means, the matrix, the stabilizer, and the guide.
God (or however you experience the life source) uses the parent to support and direct the child into actualization of its best destiny.
We are a team - God, Parent and the Child - indivisible !
"Soar high and true, most-loved children!
I count among friends, really worthwhile adults, some who liked and some who disliked their childhood.
Abuse or want was not really the issue:
No matter how idyllic or challenged, I have been told that some will not be content till they are growups.
They do just fine in life, and many are happy parents, undaunted by their own restless and even troubled childhood.
I think what is important is that the opportunities to make a great life do not need to be the privilege of those whose childhood was idyllic.
Parenthood is a fancy business, from the start, and though we do well at empty-nesting new-fun, so far, parenthood does not really seem to finish. At the very least, some custom-made grownup friends, with special rights, and graces, remain. Delight !
I would like to hear the stories of others, and invite question and comment: contact link at the top of this page.
Some little things you may enjoy:
Lullaby Days
|
where are you going?
where are you going?, my little ones! little ones! where are you going? my babies! my own! turn around ~ you're two! turn around ~ you're four! turn around ~ you're a young man going out of the door! where are you going? my little ones! little ones! where are you going? my babies! my own! turn around ~ you're tiny! turn around ~ you're grown! turn around ~ turn around ~ you're a young wife with babes of your own! Summertime Summertime ~ and the livin' is easy! Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high! You're Daddy's rich, and your Mama good lookin'! So, hush, little baby, do-on't you cry! We also got sent back to church from my first rendition, our son got a nosebleed, our daughter an odd diaper rash ....but I got it straight, eventually, and my very wise husband had fun looking, pointedly, heavenward a lot.
|
but babies in a new place still need good rocking and sometimes extra. The women in our new home in the South saw to it that I had a pair of good country rocking chairs, passed on in the same special spirit that brought them to us, one by each little bed in each room. |
|
Winter Boy ~ one of Peter John's
Summer boy...born on a snowy day, came to me on a rainy afternoon And there was summer love ~ Love I trusted far too well, gone away and winter's spell Had broke my heart and left me all alone And looking for a place To rest my weary heart, for just awhile And I found it in a smile of a boy, A little boy with sunlight in his hair And promise in his eyes of days and nights still yet to be, days and nights he'd cling to me, For I am summer's lady, and he is summer's child tho' there be summers yet, when the smell of pine comes crying to my heart! Still, my joy and my security Will lie beside the boy of blessed purity with sunlight in his hair and diamonds in his eyes diamonds made of trust and love for me, and gleaming at me all the afternoon! This one worked with my late husband ~ brought him home on time, every time... and I can highly recommend pulling out the stops and losing all fear of loving your child.
|
My/our Amanda ~ two just for Amy!
My version of Beatles tune "Lovely Linda!" it seemed a fine rocking chair song.... La, La, La, La, La, my Amanda! With the lovely flowers in her hair! La, La, La, La, La, our Amanda! With the lovely flowers in her hair! VLa, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La,La, La, La! This one was very helpful for my February nineteenth sugarlivewire... Our first year away from family, she would get the wiggleworms when it was time to sleep. However, she loves music, so however sleepy/coo-ey I did it for her, endorphins to the heavens, she was no more than happily interested... entertained...no sleeping ...innocent smiling... my young husband getting fidgety downstairs... .........hmmmmm I finally learned to tuck her in, and sit and rock next to her, not with her and absolutely not look at her, my nose in the half-dark, crocheting a templated afghan hexagon, as serenely as possible... off to sleep she'd go! happy baby...happy husband! All the Pretty Little Horses Hush-a-bye! Don't you cry! Go to sleep, my little baby! When you wake, you shall have All the pretty little horses: Dappled and greys! Pintos and bays! All the pretty little horses! Birds and butterflies flying in the meadow, Poor little baby crying, "Mama!" Birds and butterflies flying in the meadow, Poor little baby crying, "Mama!" Dappled and greys! Pintos and bays! All the pretty little horses! |
Sharing a Delightful Find!
Garden Fun & Life-Bonding:
Bonnie Plants Children's Cabbage Project
from this garden items company, focuses on the life magic of growing things.
Remembering such moments in my own childhood, and that of my children, I was charmed, and thought to share it here.
|
Son & Daughter ~ then & now: Notes4-8-2003
I am a little psychic, and always knew that I would bear a son first, named for his Father - Peter John,"beloved rock" (though I did not know it then). Our daughter,next, whose name I knew was Amanda when I was 15, and found it in Latin I vocabulary: "amanda" >passive periphrastic of the verb "amare", to love> means"she must be, or ought to be loved". I used to think I saw them in my mind's eye all through girlhood, and our son in the special white sun / yellow sky of our beautiful Connecticut snowstorms. Or was it precognitive of the pioeering work in internet news he'd be doing years later. I think so, sometimes. In fact, he taught me my basic html, and has helped with my site development to keep chat with me off and on, since Operation Iraqi Freedom began...Gandalf said it, to our Frodo: "it's about making the time we have the best we know how t make it"...liberal paraphrase....notes...more later 
|
Terrible Twos
Building a life in all new environs, with littleones and young, the Mommies looked around them and the children seemed to doing their day like a swarm of sort........grouping toddlers spending a little time at each of the homes of the respective mommies and daddies, moving from town house to town house in our new condo neighborhood.
In a year the pool and party house were ready for better organization for the social, and the mommies in their stride in new groups in church and school. A neighbor found employment at the local pediatricians,one of whom was a neighbor, too. My church and school allowed me to help in the new idea of daycare...ours was private and church owned, but served the public ....I loved it...the best of both worlds ......Sesame Street was new, and Haim Ginnot, and access to all the neat inspired new ways with Early Childhood Development.
However, my first days in it came as our two children were at either end of "the terrible twos"....... we were told to expect at least one aberrated episode from the children...some rebellion, some pranks..... the odd part of it was that , in my busy and happy mommy mind in those days, there were a few days when my thoughts went oddly, in that I wondered if I was scripting my children for behavior problems they had no wish to exhibit.
The phase lasted only a few weeks, with a list of episodes...but to this day I wonder..........
Part of our neighborhood social/recreational offerings... the largest private pool in half the state of a hundred counties.
We were active in swim club in those years, so NC Beaches and pool were "home", though we seldom did the workout laps there to maintain the social atmosphere.As little ones, they were "just plain good"...interested, interesting, giggling, warm, industrious and quick in school, and co-operative, quick and fun at home.
And later when difficulty, and grieving came, they teamed with me, knew the enemy, fought and won,showed integrity, and spontaneously took compassionate initiative, to the best of their ability.
I owe so much to good family, education and lucky natural interest, and counselling for the major woes, and the angels, above all.
They were not a fantasy: diaper rash, colic, fatigue-based crankieness, "attitude", snippysyndrome, distlike of tidying after playtime, at times. Childhood illnesses, and of course, we went through a certain amount of "goop-and-a-bandaid". And once, my whitesoneyellowssky developed a true hatred for whatever I prepared for dinner...He had been failing alarmingly, from an allergic syndrome, and allergy shots and swimming laps was restoring his health and vitality ,but agony for him at first, so weak......and for all of us....but it worked....His coping fun/outlet..........two weeks of "eeeeeyyyyoooouuuuueeeewww!!!" when I answered his, setup, "What's for dinner, Mommy?" On the fifteenth day, therapeutic need, or not......I replied with a bit taken from "Wizard of Oz"......."What's for dinner Mommy?"......"PooooooiiiiiyyyyysonLittleboy!!!",...stabbing my index finger dangerously close.."and It's all for you!"....and a report to your Father, as well. But, as I hoped, it was afterthe fact, and the scenario cleared from my witchy surprize....(more to come)
|
|
|
|
Curious? find him in a websearch...Friedrich Froebel is there. Most of the Giants of the Twentieth Century, took his Kindergarten training in "The Gifts". |
|
Children Learn What They Live If a child lives with criticism, he learns to condemn. If a child lives with hostility, he learns to fight. If a child lives with ridicule, he learns to be shy. If a child lives with shame, he learns to feel guilty. If a child lives with tolerance, he learns to be patient. If a child lives with praise, he learns to appreciate. If a child lives with fairness, he learns justice. If a child lives with security, he learns to have faith. If a child lives with approval, he learns to like himself If a child lives with acceptance and friend ship, He learns to find love in the world! -Dorothy Law Nolte This one impressed us effectively when our children were growing up, and it is still a nice thing. |
|
L
I L Y P I N K H A T |
Lily Harper .Org
Lily was born without an immune system and she died soon after this photo. Her younger brother shared the affliction but not as severely as his bigsis, and treatments have helped him. Still to have both children so ill, was a real challenge for them and all who love them. When Lily passed away, it was very sad and I did the little painting to comfort her parents. A few years later, and the story is much nicer! The grieving for Lily is resolved a bit, and younger brother Aren is much stronger and best of all... the is TATIANA ! New littlesis for Aren, who has a wonderful healthy immune system. |
and its art byArtist Illustrator Ben Hatke
Finishing this page of celebration with this a serious Turn of the phrase "un-children":
News at noon, a while ago, said that Norway was permitting "infant euthanasia", or more accurately "infanticide". It's about life! Please give the issue one evening, research the statistics. I am not a howler, but I was pretty horrified. So many wise ways to otherwise, and yet this very extreme path is too, too common.
Having BabiesThe grandest, most miraculous experience, was once considered part of the likely experience of most women, and most couples, and in spite of today's way with things, parenthood is still a miracle and pretty popular! This writing is for my children, to point out how much things have changed since the first time I saw them "in my mind's eye". It is to share the message of the glowing thing called life and help them to understand some of the mysteries in the parent-child relationship. Babies! I loved my dolls, but remember thinking they were merely pretend, and how magical it would be to be having fun with real babies ... our real babies, dreaming of their Father, and wondering verryyy carefully, what he might be like! My parent's library had books of stories, one of knights and ladies and classic romances: King Arthur and Scheherezade and others. In the flyleaf of the book was a famous color plate of the handsome romantic knight on his white horse, tenderly bidding farewell to his beautiful lady in pink and black gown, with fair hair trailing nearly to the ground, as she weeps tenderly at their parting, their bond a promise of his safe return. How dreamy! That is the thing, I thought, and in a hurry to get my writings up, I turned to the inside cover and drew my child's mandala and in kindergarten print "Done By Ellen". Now it was my book...or maybe one day ! The women's world in my family was as strong as the men's ~ full of talk and love and learning and love and fun and love and rules and love! Understanding of the medical was as ancient as my knight and lady, though, and so there were lots of sensitive and secretive sessions of the women, at coffeetime, to trade the latest ideas and information, and not much overt criticism of medical ways of the times, but even as little as I was, it was easy to pick up the understanding that there was fear, and ingnorance in women's health issues, and that new times and new information and courage in sharing it might make things much better for all. Women, their husbands and their doctors did not share medical information all that easily still: from respect, fear always of getting too scientific and destroying everything. Always the courage and the fear that progress in women's health and "having babies' would produce monsters or worse ~ horrible consequences Mother and her sisters and friends could not even imagine. And yet, onward they went, with caution and prayer and respect......and throughout, glorying still in the mystique of womanhood and the unparalleled delight! The grace and gift of God of being female. Grandmother on Father's side was a dolly who bore and raised 7 sons and a tiny daughter and was fine ~ in her heaven of rewards each day, from happiness in the life she enjoyed with all those children and grandchildren. Grandmother on Father's side died when Mother was 6, in childbirth-related pneumonia, and the infant as well. She was my maternal Grandfather's second wife: the first also dead, in childbirth hemmorage...the unspeakable...frightening to even think of it, let alone talk of it. Mother, herself, was suffering some sort of feminine issue, and the treatment and prognosis uncertain. And yet somehow I knew I was fine, if watchful, and uncomfortable with Mother's difficulty. She was a best-friend Mother , and we enjoyed a fine friendship and love and still do, but until surgery corrected her issue, the pain and marriage trouble of her health problem was a dark cloud on our sunny day! The women one spring were discussing the latest in feminine health things and reading the range of authors: famous, infamous and popular, and the natural health magazines,which they liked for their safe path in things. I would sit with them and be welcome in the discussions up to a point, depending on my age: "You're old enough, I guess !" they might say, and make me feel very grown up. In one of the natural health magazines I found a story about Doctor Lamaze and Natural Childbirth. It was 1961 and I was 14. My eyes widened, and my spirit effused and lit up and I exclaimed to myself, "That's it ! That's the right way to do it! this is wonderful ! This is the way I'm am going to have my babies ! ", I resolved, not an option , from that first moment. I ran to my "mommies" with the story at the next coffeetime..."Look! Look!... this is IT ! This is the answer and this is what I'm going to do!" Of course, my enthusiasm was met with a tolerant smile, with lots of reserve in it and although they thought the whole idea fine, there was an odd whispered groan from them, witnessing my brave advance into such territory! God and the Angels brought my Knight actually driving a white Plymouth Valiant, just like the Prince Knight of the sunday comics in those days. Time and courting and we were happily married and he was a commissioned officer serving his military duty time, and we expecting our first child. I tried not to remember the thought that a baby would be nice to carry on his name, should we lose my husband in Viet Nam duty ahead. Not for one moment had I forgotten Doctor Lamaze and asked our doctor if this new method of safer childbirth was available at the Military hospital. He had to disappoint me, the nearest hospital that did offer the new method was over 40 miles away ~ not too far, unless you were in labor, and he could not approve it. At first I was deeply disappointed, but later glad we opted for the on-post facility. It was a fine one, and with our first child , it was great more than once, to have the hospital only a few minutes away. My group of officers' wives was great. Not all of them are, and we had fun and helped in the community, and laughed when it was our day to tour the Tank Fields, and struggle about, crawling in and out of a Sherman tank , just a little bit "preggers". Still, when the time came, a crystal night full of stars and the clearing after a good snow and ice storm, it all felt very magic! My husband and I were mostly euphoric, and laughing...he became so excited when it was time to go to the hosptial that he lost dinner, and I was at his side, in the bathroom , in labor, asking him if he was ok. How we laughed at that one, later on. Not really too much that night, though. As is often the case with first childbirth experience, the labor was mild , but very very prolonged. It was the famous "full moon" for it and the hospital maternity ward was packed, wall to wall, with mommies to be..any minute. Take your ticket and stand in line, lady. The doctors were doing factory shifts, and I had gone through three, and was getting a little tired and vague and finally just yelled "Get me out of here"...and the sound came out frighteningly faint...my range of vision shrinking. I heard shouting in the hall "Who let a first time mother stay in her so long? This is not ok!", he said to the nurse....whoever "he" was.....Just then, the door to my little labor room flew open and the handsome smiling face introduced me to the North Carolina drawl: "Hi, Miz Fagan! I'm Doctor Claude Hollingsworth....let's go have this baby ! " I was thrilled ! A very fine first impression ! Doctor Claude Hollingsworth got technically busy and into the delivery room we flew....I really was weakened, and the nurse had to hold me up for the routine epidural injection...in fact I was so vagued, I could only read her ID, with my head near it on her shoulder: "Betty something"....was the best I could do. The anesthetic mouthpiece was given to me to use as I wished, but I believe in minimum narcotic and as tired as I was and a bit dizzy, I did not want to lose any more of my senses at that time. There is a famous quote, said to be the words of a healthy baby's first cry... "The universe resounds in the joyful cry "I AM ! " And, oh, yes....that was the thing a few minutes later. "You have a little boy, Miz Fagan !", and I asked the Doctor the usual question: "Does he have everything?"... The doctor laughed: "he has everything he'll ever need !" Such a nice warm and celebratory laugh ! My Knight had been pacing and blanched and frantic for some time and in those days , still kept to the waiting room, but even in that fullmoon crowd, they did a lovely thing: with me in the recovery room , being treated for my depletion...shock chills , weakness and fright...first they piled me with blanket and brought in the first food I'd had in 24 hours...I do not know if I was hungry but felt driven to pile in some food very fast, or suffer....I could not sit up and had the tray placed at my head on the pillow and pushed the food in me, and was glad I was alone. With that done, my husband arrived, and I smiled, working to see him, and shivering: "H-h-h-ave you s-s-seen our s-s-son ?" I asked him. His eyes widened like a cartoon character in surprize or shock..."A boy ! A boy? A boy! A boy?" he repeated like a stuck record, we would say, in those days. I guess he felt tolerating my morning sickness, vegetarianism, and a dozen other lady things was worth it. I slept. The day we brought our son home was still cold from the January snow and even grey...my husband said " I'm sorry the sun isn't shining for you and the baby, for this moment!" ... I smiled at my husband and looked at our son: "He's our sunshine today !" and he was more than enough to rise above the weather. He still is... Two years later, my husband home from war, and our corporate life under way, we were having a baby again. The civilian hospital did offer the Lamaze Childbirth method and, in fact, was among the first in the country to have the nicely-done Birthing Rooms! Really lovely, by the standards of the day! I was delighted to be training in Lamaze Classes and, as much for my husband as for myself and the baby. His understanding of childbirth with five siblings was of women who chased the men out of the county till after the baby was born. Even our military firstborn was a delight of experience for him, but he had plenty of fear of unknown spots. I drafted him for the classes and we had a wonderful time, practicing the exercises, the breathing and his techniques for busying himself keeping me comfy thru the contractions. Back pressure, timing tasks and other things to do beside nerves. A nice improvement and he warmed to it well as our pregnancy and childbirth was so much more OURS doing it per Doctor Lamaze. The method was still controversial and there were a few comments, but most were excited and supportive...it made sense. Of course when the day came, my husband was more than an hour's drive away, and once again, I was in labor , seeing to him..."pleeease drive carefully" He did. Iheard the car come up the drive but then a knock at the front door, and I wondered what this was, as I answered it and , then then door opened and his arm...only one arm shot thru the door opening , wielding a stopwatch! "Go" he spurted, hitting the racing timer watch button, to time the contractions, as though I was a race horse. "noooooo....you may go and not come in...I laughed , while insisting he was not at all funny !" Mother and a friend came to mind our son, as my husband and I left for the hosptital. The relaxation breathing was hard work in the ride over, and I was surprized at how "into my stride" in it I felt, when we arrived. Second babies are often easier, and the training had paid off. Baby and both parents a team with the Doctor as Coach....and we were honored to be seen by the famous guru of the new safer Lamaze method of childbirth, Doctor Joseph Horowitz. He smiled at us, as he entered the lovely birthing room and we chatted, thinking we'd have some hours to chat while nature did its miracle, and let us co-operate. Then after only a few contractions I felt the delivery push and told the Doctor. He graced me with a nice but patronizing smile:"not likely , but we'll check", and did...."Whooaaa !! let's GO ! " as his eyes widened and he jumped up from the exam, to the delivery room. Then he spun around and called to my husband: "if you want to be there, nowww ! " We all laughed in triumph....and the look between my husband and myself, at this wondrous reprieve, remembering the 22 hours the first time. With me in the delivery room and the drapes nicely placed and a mirror so we could see our daughter born, and my husband at my shoulder, we followed the easy instructions to aid the delivery....there was no shouting or screaming, thank goodness, and the only glitch when the delivery got more speedily emergent than typical....Doctor Horowitz jumped and scooped up my flying daughter, and caught her safely "I'm sorry" he said charmingly into the face of our new little girl....and all of us laughing and happy! It is ordinary now, but in those days, kind of unique to be hugging and kissing one's husband while delivering our baby. Her cry , like her brothers, triumphant and clear, and the day won! I was lucky in my husband: he loved children and was ready for parenthood and we had few if any growing pains in the transition, and the whole thing gave him the win over his fears and fantasies and fables of childbirth things. A wonderful time for us, entirely! For me, ten years after committing to the Lamaze childbirth, to actually participate in it all and enjoy all the benefits was an extra and profoud satisfaction...memorable. But most of all, the two new people in our lives a real part of us! Somehow at such times, especially when it is your child...the stunning awareness of propagation of a new Life is incomparable! I think it colors everything else we do, afterward. The Child ! the Miracle ! |
MOMMY MOMENTS STORIES :
Sockies</h1>
At Fort Knox, expecting our firstborn, we had fun getting things ready for it all, including adopting a pup. "Portia" was a Shepherd / Spitz mix, but sported the golden wavy coat of a Cocker, on a beagle body. She was very pretty and lots of fun, but a puppy , nonetheless, with chewing things, sometimes, and an occasional inappropriate puddle.
But, for the most part, she was great company for me, when my time with the preganancy made it wise to be home daytimes.
We'd kiss my officer goodbye , and then get busy with the morning tasks, and then lunch and the garden, and chat with neighbors.
One of these had her first toddler at home, and the pup liked her, and the MOmmy and I would have fun watching them play gently, in that way a good pup knows how to do with a child.
So I was surprized when she came to our door after supper one summer evening, while it was still light outdoors, and asked me if I'd seen a missing sock, belonging to her daughter. She could not find it, and thought , perhaps, the pup had snatched it up and run home with it.
"No", I said, and told my husband the funny story of the missing sock as we shrugged our shoulders and promised to keep an eye out for it.
At midnight, three days later, our pup came to our bedside, upset by something and proceeded to throw up the sock.
Shock and laughter for that hour was so unique, I still remember it. What to do?
I washed the sock and returned it , to more laughter, up and down the block.
Fine....but then a few weeks later, the neighbor was at our door again......"I can't find my daughter' sweater."....no,no, no , no.....not this time...that's enough!
Still, such moments are ones that come back many years later, to warm.
Thanksomuch for visiting this page! Come again and send your comments! Email: esfagan@ellefagan.com Full contact data at the site home page.
elle
At Fort Knox, expecting our firstborn, we had fun getting things ready for it all, including adopting a pup. "Portia" was a Shepherd / Spitz mix, but sported the golden wavy coat of a Cocker, on a beagle body. She was very pretty and lots of fun, but a puppy , nonetheless, with chewing things, sometimes, and an occasional inappropriate puddle.
But, for the most part, she was great company for me, when my time with the preganancy made it wise to be home daytimes.
We'd kiss my officer goodbye , and then get busy with the morning tasks, and then lunch and the garden, and chat with neighbors.
One of these had her first toddler at home, and the pup liked her, and the MOmmy and I would have fun watching them play gently, in that way a good pup knows how to do with a child.
So I was surprized when she came to our door after supper one summer evening, while it was still light outdoors, and asked me if I'd seen a missing sock, belonging to her daughter. She could not find it, and thought , perhaps, the pup had snatched it up and run home with it.
"No", I said, and told my husband the funny story of the missing sock as we shrugged our shoulders and promised to keep an eye out for it.
At midnight, three days later, our pup came to our bedside, upset by something and proceeded to throw up the sock.
Shock and laughter for that hour was so unique, I still remember it. What to do?
I washed the sock and returned it , to more laughter, up and down the block.
Fine....but then a few weeks later, the neighbor was at our door again......"I can't find my daughter' sweater."....no,no, no , no.....not this time...that's enough!
Still, such moments are ones that come back many years later, to warm.
Thanksomuch for visiting this page! Come again and send your comments! Email: esfagan@ellefagan.com Full contact data at the site home page.
elle