Be Forewarned, I am a Fey and Quixotic Creative Writer

Be Forewarned, I am a Fey and Quixotic Creative Writer
And in the End was the Word, Amy's Word

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Sunday, December 2, 2012

My Early Years as a Mother--Rewrite from 2012

When I conceived Natalie, we, that is my newly wedded husband and I, were living in Clifton Springs in an apartment on 13 Main Street.  Natalie works across the street from the building where she was conceived.  The conception  was the first cycle of menstrual period after her father and I wed.  I got my menses while on our honeymoon  in October of 1980.  Our honey moon was spent at the Nowbar's cottage and West Bluff Drive, Penn Yan.  A month or so later, I was watching the Today Show on a  November morning in the apartment.  The anchor woman, Jane Pauley, was explaining the consistency of cervical mucous at the time of being fertile.  I think I watched that episode the morning the little wiggly sperm of my husband joined into my egg.  Lets see- Married Oct 25--first cycle of the marriage, Voila! Natalie! I would bet that she is totally unaware that she works across the street from the building where she was assembled......silly....that sounds positively factorial!

I am inspired to write this today of all days because this is the day 30 years ago that I knew that I was going to have a son, also.  I was a little weird back then, I had this thing about having a "son".  I love my children equally now and did when they were little too.  It might be because my Mother and Father had always desired a son and did not get one, that I felt that a son would be such a great blessing.  This notion has permeated many cultures, the Chinese, for one are guilty of this bias.

I was out in the front yard on Taylor Road.  We lived in the country in an old house that had been constructed from a former ice house.  I was in the yard with my daughter and she was on the swing that we had attached to the Butternut Tree*.  I was pushing her on the swing on December 2, 1982, most likely in the morning.  I suddenly had this thought.






  "You will give birth to a son in a year."  I had no intention of trying to get pregnant that forthcoming March and really did not recall this moment until after he had been conceived.  I went to Dr. Yang, my Chinese gynecologist, and he gave me my due date.  I am pretty darn sure that his EDC or due date was December 2, 1983.  He was born December 6, on Saint Nicholas Day.  I had planned to name him Nicholas if he was born that day....but we went with our other choice, Benjamin.  He took Nicholas as his confirmation name.  He turns 29 this week.

When Ben was born at the Newark Hospital Natalie remembers that she had peas that night for supper, I would guess at her Aunt's house.  My mother in law came to visit me and gave me a hug and said "Oh, how nice now you have a  son!"  I recall feeling as though- yes, this is a great gift. I wondered, "Did I deserve such an honor?"  While in the hospital and actually during labor I wore my purple velvet bathrobe my mother had handed down to me and I also wore purple knee socks.  Purple knee socks that matched my purple robe.  While in labor I focused on a photo on the wall, a focal point.  It was the photo of a pine tree with sunlight streaming around it.  I looked at the pine tree and focused my energy on love.  I focused during Ben's birth on the thought.  "I am LOVED".





(My Ex is over on the right of the picture in back, with sister in law in front.  If I remember, that is my brother in law behind me.)  We are having a picnic under the Butternut tree.--June 1984.




I remember shedding a tear for Natalie and I.  It was no longer just she and I as a mother child duet. a Something ended or rather changed, she and I would share our love with little Benjamin. Transitions, even joyful ones require adjustment.

*I have read Kurt Vonnegut novels.  There is one novel in which he goes on and on about a little girl on a swing.  The significance is a style of art, Rococo.  The Girl on a Swing is a sexually charged image.  This probably relates to the objectification of women. It is strange that this connects to my toddler daughter.