My Sonny Boy Turns Forty-Seven Today

Top: 7 months
Middle: 18 months
Bottom: 11 years

I cannot believe that my sweet, chubby baby boy has been on the planet for that long. I remember the night of his birth like it was yesterday. My due date was early March, but like most pregnant women, I was desperately hoping he would make an early appearance. On the 18th, I felt better than I had in nine months. I cleaned the whole house, I scrubbed floors, I ironed. At midnight, as I sat on the couch watching Johnny Carson's Tonight Show, my water broke. All. Over. Everything. Mr. kenju was already asleep (as usual) and after I woke him to explain what was happening, he put on his robe and proceeded to turn on every light in the house. Every
light.

I called the doctor, who told us to get to the hospital pronto, so we packed my bag, turned off all the lights and got in the car for the 20 minute trip to the hospital. Mr. kenju was so excited that he ran a red light. I told him that wasn't necessary; all we needed was to be stopped by a policeman. I had visions of my baby being born in the rear seat of our old Plymouth sedan, which was not the way I planned it. We arrived about 1 am, and after checking in, we were escorted to the delivery suite by a chatty woman who babbled incessantly about cats. I think she thought I was nervous and that would help to get my mind off the impending birth. She was right. I had NO idea what to expect, though I had been admonished by a doctor I worked with at the time, to read everything I could about the process of labor and childbirth. Fear leads to tense muscles, which prolongs labor. Knowledge alleviates that to some extent. My boy arrived 4 hours later, at 4:50 am.

I am not sure why they taught me about fear and then knocked me unconscious with anesthesia. I was completely out when my boy was born, and to this day, I hate that it happened that way. Even so, the doctor said I was just like the women in Pearl Buck's "The Good Earth"; they dropped the babies out in the fields and went right back to hoeing.

My handsome boy is still built just like he was at eleven; all long bones, sinew and muscle - but no fat whatsoever. He now has a lovely wife and two beautiful daughters of his own. I am so proud of them all.
Have VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Sonny Boy!





(reposted)







(Reposted from six years ago.)