I may get in trouble for this post. No matter how carefully I say this - it’s probably going to come out wrong. Someone’s liable to get their feelings hurt. Still, I’m going to take a deep breath and run fearlessly over the edge of the cliff…
I come from the last generation of women who were mostly expected to grow up, marry and have children. We might go to college and have a career. But we would definitely marry and have 2.5 children. We weren’t really expected to stay home with the children like our mothers were but rather we would keep working - do it all, have it all.
Remember that little ditty we wrote for the song contest? Well there’s more than a little truth in there. Most of my children were unplanned. Not unwanted, not unloved, not uncherished (is that a word?). But unplanned. Some, like Violet, were a complete shock. Others, though not planned, weren’t a big surprise.
I had my first child when I was little more than a child myself. Barely 20 years old when she was born I did escape the “teen mother” stigma. My husband and I hadn’t really planned on having children quite so soon but we figured we were going to have 2 children so why not just get on with it. I didn’t know what sex the baby would be (they didn’t routinely tell you those things back then) but I hoped for
a girl. I know girls. I like girls. I love girly-girl things. I spent a lot of time imagining all the wonderful years ahead of us.
A few years later, my second child was born. Another beautiful little girl. I’d had my 2 children (I never could figure out how to get that .5 child) and our family was complete. A few years later, my marriage ended. I hoped I would remarry at some point - after all I was only 24 years old. I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life alone. But I didn’t believe I would have any more children. I really didn’t want any more - I was completely satisfied with the 2 children I had.
Then I met Steve.
He also had children - 2 lovely little girls. I knew if we married we’d instantly have a HUGE family. Four children is a lot of responsibility not to mention work. By then I’d been a parent for several years and I was somewhat older and wiser. Looking back, I wasn’t that much older or wiser still, I did know exactly how much work children were.
You would think that having another child would have been the last thing we would want to do. But Steve and I wanted to have a child together with a desperation that to this day I can not explain. Completely irrational. FIVE children!? We must have been off-our -rockers-crazy. But every time we came together I prayed I would get pregnant. When the stick finally showed those 2 faint pink lines, I was over the moon. I actually cried tears of happiness.
Then I started praying for a little boy. A little boy who would have all of the best of his father and I. Ultrasounds during a pregnancy still weren’t very common but our doctor was pretty progressive and we were able to have one. When asked if we wanted to know the sex I immediately said YES! Absolutely YES! The technician said it looked like a boy.
OMG! I can still remember how thrilled I was - I called Steve right away to let him know we were having a boy. I wanted to run out and buy all kinds of boy stuff - everything needed to be blue. Steve put the kibosh on that - back then they made mistakes about the sex of your child quite frequently. Maybe the tech had mistaken the umbilical cord for the required boy equipment- Steve was afraid to jinx it by buying a lot of blue stuff.
Throughout my pregnancy, I dreamed of the little boy I would soon have. I wondered what
he would be like and had so many dreams for him. For 17 years, I have watched him growing into those dreams. He is handsome and has a wonderfully unique personality. He has a wicked sense of humor. And smart? Sometimes I am amazed at how intelligent he is and how logically his mind works. He can be self-centered, forgetful and irritating. We clash frequently lately. But he’s a teenasser so I kind of expect that.
This morning when my son left for school I was happy, excited and somewhat emotional. Today is the beginning of the last year he will live with us every day. This is the year that April and Jonathan are seniors in high school. The year my baby will graduate. (yes I still think of him as my baby. I know that is completely weird since Violet is actually the baby of the family but there you go.)
Tonight he will come home and we will probably argue over whether the grass needs cutting or why the trash didn’t get taken out or why his room looks like a bomb went off. He will get completely frustrated at the fact that I won’t let him play on the computer all night and that I force him to sit at the table and do homework or study. He will think that I don’t like him very much or that I’m disappointed with him. But before that happens let me say what I don’t say often enough…
You are one of the best things in my life and you bring me a lot of joy. The hopes and dreams that I had for you when you were conceived are becoming realized. You are on the precipice of adulthood and I am so proud of the young man you are becoming that it makes me tear up just to think about how wonderful you are.
Son, I love you.
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