I’m reminiscing about motherhood on this special day:
Thirty-two years ago today, when I became a mother at 7:32 p.m., on Wednesday, August 13, 1986, I had no idea of the difficult road ahead. No parent-to-be knows for sure what to expect in their new role, of course, but there’s a continuum of “typical” and there’s off-the-child-development-charts “unpredictable.”
If you’ve followed my story, you know where my motherhood experience fell.
I thought I was ready to be a mom. I had loving role models in my parents, I was an attentive big sister, and I babysat as a teen. I had a supportive husband, a fulfilling career, a cozy house with a crib, and a changing table stocked with onesies, cloth diapers, and blankies. I took my prenatal vitamins and shunned alcohol and attended LaMaze and breastfeeding classes, and read every page of What to Expect When You’re Expecting, first published in 1984, two years before Matthew was born.
I was prepared for a typical child. I expected to be a perfect mom. Matthew and I were neither.
But we’re resilient. Matthew’s recovery from his brain tumor, diagnosed when he was 11, is profound–unpredictable in a good way. Every time I see him, I think he’s smarter than the last time, and the last time, he was reading The Communist Manifesto.
He’s one remarkable human being. I am so blessed that he is here today so I can wish him:
Happy Birthday, Matt.
Thank you for reminiscing about motherhood with me. It’s nice to have company on the journey down memory lane.