Sunday Selfie- 44 years ago this week

Around this time of year, 44 years ago, I sat down in the recliner at my mother’s house and couldn’t get back up. My stomach was a beach ball, and as my husband pulled me up, I said, “This is the first time I really want this baby to come.”

I enjoyed being pregnant all the way up to that night. I enjoyed his kicking and his growing. I enjoyed it all.

I still had about 2 weeks to go on that particular night. But, he must have heard me because within days he arrived.

This week, our son, our only child, will turn 44.

Having him was such a joy, my husband and I wanted to have another child. Our son was handsome and smart and funny and all the things a child should be. He also sulked and threw tantrums and got stubborn in all the ways that children usually do those things.

We wanted another child. A lot.

We wanted our son to have someone he could share vacations with, someone he could roll his eyes with at the dinner table when we sounded off or told awful jokes. We wanted him to know that he had someone besides us who would always have his back.

I grew up with brothers and sisters and it was a mess - but I loved it. My husband was an only child. He hoped that our son would have a bigger family.

For years, I grieved. I lost a few pregnancies. When cancer took my uterus, right as menopause was setting in, I mourned loudly and long.

What a waste of my time and emotional energy that was! What message did that send to our son, I wonder.

I HAD a child. He was just right. He was smart, and kind, friendly, funny. He let me read to him at night time for years and years.

When we did not get along - in his high school years, - I remember telling him this. “No matter what you do, no matter where you end up, having you was and always will be the best thing I have ever done.”

It was true then. It is true now. It will always be true.

I wish I had spent more time realizing that I had everything I wanted in our small family - a loving husband, a charming child, a crazy dog.  Who could ask for more?

Me.  Selfish, silly me.

As we approach the 44th anniversary of me becoming a mama and Bill becoming a Dad, and, of course, Andrei’s 44th birthday, I feel grateful, melancholy, joyful, and old.

Thank you, God, for the gift you gave me 44 years ago. Forgive me for wanting more. He is just right. Exactly what I always wanted.

I love you, son.