I just got off the phone from wishing my son (David Lee Rotten) a happy birthday-and many mooooooooore. We talked about the "day you were born". I've always done that with all three of my children.
I loved being pregnant. Of course there were aches and pains and morning (afternoon and night) sickness to contend with. But the specialness of knowing that growing, living being was inside made the problems a minor inconvenience. The first butterfly kick I thought I could detect that would become karate strength that anyone could feel! I remember lying on my back in bed with their dad, watching them roll around and make peaks and valleys on the terrain of my belly.
I have often felt sorry for men's lack of ability to experience the beauty of carrying and even of bearing their children.
Dave was my third child following 2 lovely daughters. Of course, that was before we had the choice of knowing what color clothing to buy and before we knew color didn't matter anyway! We'd been waiting ten days past the projected birthday to meet this baby; girl or boy. I went to the doctor that morning for a routine checkup and he "helped things along" a bit. Yay! Labor started a couple hours later. Since it was my third, I'd better meet dad at the base ASAP. (Last birth only took 4 hours start to finish) I had good Navy neighbors who kept the girls and transported me to the hospital. Disappointment! They told us to go back home-not progressed enough to be admitted. It was over 40 minutes each way, so we began to walk in Balboa Park. Beautiful, that park. I loved being there-watching the frisbee players, squirrels, joggers, picnickers, children playing, colorful flora, couples holding hands; so much peace and life going on. We walked and walked and finally decided to go back home. At the edge of the park, I had to sit down on a bench-contractions so strong, I couldn't move. Hell no-we won't go! We'll huff and we'll puff (lamaze breathing) and we'll break those doors down!
Finally got admitted and had David Lee Rotten (aka Davy at the time) on the stretcher! Will never forget the feel of his newborn cheek against my face. Almost sodden with moisture and so, so soft. He stopped crying immediately and the nurse said, "He likes you." I liked him, too. Always have, always will.
I loved being pregnant. Of course there were aches and pains and morning (afternoon and night) sickness to contend with. But the specialness of knowing that growing, living being was inside made the problems a minor inconvenience. The first butterfly kick I thought I could detect that would become karate strength that anyone could feel! I remember lying on my back in bed with their dad, watching them roll around and make peaks and valleys on the terrain of my belly.
I have often felt sorry for men's lack of ability to experience the beauty of carrying and even of bearing their children.
Dave was my third child following 2 lovely daughters. Of course, that was before we had the choice of knowing what color clothing to buy and before we knew color didn't matter anyway! We'd been waiting ten days past the projected birthday to meet this baby; girl or boy. I went to the doctor that morning for a routine checkup and he "helped things along" a bit. Yay! Labor started a couple hours later. Since it was my third, I'd better meet dad at the base ASAP. (Last birth only took 4 hours start to finish) I had good Navy neighbors who kept the girls and transported me to the hospital. Disappointment! They told us to go back home-not progressed enough to be admitted. It was over 40 minutes each way, so we began to walk in Balboa Park. Beautiful, that park. I loved being there-watching the frisbee players, squirrels, joggers, picnickers, children playing, colorful flora, couples holding hands; so much peace and life going on. We walked and walked and finally decided to go back home. At the edge of the park, I had to sit down on a bench-contractions so strong, I couldn't move. Hell no-we won't go! We'll huff and we'll puff (lamaze breathing) and we'll break those doors down!
Finally got admitted and had David Lee Rotten (aka Davy at the time) on the stretcher! Will never forget the feel of his newborn cheek against my face. Almost sodden with moisture and so, so soft. He stopped crying immediately and the nurse said, "He likes you." I liked him, too. Always have, always will.
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