
Well, hello there, awesome readers!
The year was 1985 and I was 20 years old. Like a five-year-old who finds it tremendously important to disclose that she is five AND A HALF thank you very much, I should mention that I was turning 21 in exactly one month and five days. The reality of it though, was that I was 20 years old going on 15. I was young, naive, and hopeful. I was young, naive, and cuddling a milestone that would change my world forever. On this day in 1985, I became a mother.
Things have changed. Back then new mothers spent several days in the hospital with their new baby before being released into a life of motherhood. Those days were precious. The hospital bed was like a private island where you got to spend hours focusing on nothing else except getting to know your new baby. Gazing into that tiny, trusting face was like a heart-swelling addiction.
“Is it just me or is she special?” I remember asking the older, Italian lady that occupied the bed next to mine.
“It’s not just you. She IS special.” Her response as she sat in the light green, polyester armchair, nursing her own new baby. This was her third child, and she understood my sense of wonder; my overwhelming appreciation of caring for a tiny human the size of a cabbage patch doll.
35 years later that cabbage patch doll has developed into a grown-ass woman. Strong, determined, driven, she continues to carry her special and I take no credit for it. 35 years ago, I became a mother. I had no idea what I was doing. I was thriving on a diet of ignorance and bliss; the sweet and sour that taunts us into the circus ring of adulting.
The edge of a milestone has turned into an extraordinary relationship. The landscape of years since that day, glitter with peaks and valleys; laughter and tears. There have been a lot of ‘misses’ throughout the last quarter of a century plus. Misunderstandings. Miscommunications. Even missed time together.
And yet here we stand in the future of our yesterdays, snuggled to a conviction that has brought us closer than ever.
I love you, baby girl. Happy birthday!!!
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Wow. I couldn’t have said it better! I was a few years older than you when I gave birth, but just as immature! I’d just turned 23 in November, 1968, and had *my* baby girl. What the hell did I know about babies? Only what I read in Dr. Spock’s ultra-popular book of the day! Ay yi. Here’s a lil peek: https://crossedeyesanddottedtees.wordpress.com/2016/05/17/windows-on-the-past-mother-daughter/
and
https://crossedeyesanddottedtees.wordpress.com/2020/04/17/windows-on-the-past-motherhood-pics-1970-75/
And now my ‘babies’ are all grown up – 48 and 52! Time sure flies! 😀
Dr. Spock! Ah yes! Thanks for sharing!
Heartwarming post – thanks for sharing. My first son was a 3-month preemie who weighed 2.8 lbs and I couldn’t hold him for 5 months…however, he was the most precious baby ever!
Thanks, Antoinette!
So sweet. My daughter will be off to college soon so resonates with me! It goes by so fast!
Yes. Too damn fast.
Beautifully said. I’m quite sure it was just yesterday, right?
I too had my first at the age of 20! And my second at the age of 21 so he would have someone to play with! How young and naive I was!
Yes, yesterday 🙂 Sometimes young and naive are blessings!
Happy birthday to your “baby!” It does go so very quickly. And yes, we were all sent home with no real handbook on how to raise them.
So true. Sometimes I think parenting is all about trial and error!