Remembering....

Forty-some years ago, my life changed forever.  On May 4^th.  At 9:32 at night.

A high school graduate, unemployed, and married for less than a year, I became a statistic: a teenage mom.  Planned or not, good timing or not, affordable or not, the baby was on her way, literally.  Dreams put on the back burner, an acceptance letter to UC Santa Barbara carefully put away as a memento.

In our tiny duplex, the hand-me-down crib was in place.  What few clothes we could afford for the baby were washed and ready.   Since the baby wasn’t due for a few more weeks (or so we’d been told), I spent the morning preparing a casserole dish to take to that evening’s church potluck.

I spent the evening at the hospital instead with a “stomach ache”…..and then labor pains.  A pain shot, ordered by the physician, put me to sleep and, in the morning, my labor had stopped.  The physician came to see me and announced, matter-of-factly, that I would be sent home if my labor didn’t start again.

I remember thinking that I did not want to go home without a baby.  I had already worked too hard to go home empty-handed.  I was angry at the physician for giving me the shot that stopped my labor.  And that anger did the trick…..

I remember waking up and asking the nursing assistant who was taking my vital signs if I had a boy or a girl.  She just snickered and kept doing her job.  I really wanted to know, as I was quite “snockered” during the delivery and didn’t remember much of it.

And then the OB nurse came in and had me stand up so they could change the sheets on my bed.  I asked her what time it was and she said “it’s 10:30”.  I asked her if it was morning or night and she snickered, too.

Apparently, it was 10:30 at night, because the next morning, the physician came in and told me I was doing well.  The day shift nurse was kind enough to show me the bracelet on my wrist that identified my daughter as “baby girl _______”……and I smiled.  I had wanted a girl.

And then, another nurse came in my room, pushing a metal cart with a plastic container on top.  Not just a plastic container, but one with the most beautiful baby ever born inside it.  They put her in my arms, and I just stared at her….

If I was going to give up my freedom, and take on the title of “mom”, this was certainly the baby worth doing it with, I thought to myself.  And just then, she opened her eyes and looked at me.

And life took on new meaning….

Cali