Son #1
I have been a mother for 28 years.
When I was a little girl, I had this one specific doll that I used to pretend was my baby. That is pretty normal for little kids — to play pretend mommy. Of course, this pretend mommy used to cut all her kids’ hair and take off their heads and put makeup on with permanent marker, but I am assuming that my parents thought I wouldn’t treat my actual kids like that. Thank God, I didn’t. (Though children always have a different narrative, but I am pretty sure I didn’t put makeup on any of them, with permanent marker or otherwise.)
Son #1 had a birthday a few weeks ago. Of course, like most mothers (I think), I like to reminisce about all the things that lead to his birth. (Yes, I am going to talk about my dad again.)
Sitting in my dad’s office, after taking a pregnancy test, when nurse Mary Tracey came in and said, “It’s positive.” To the Cheerios and milk he brought me when Son #1 decided to join this world after 24 hours and 31 minutes of fun-filled labor (and an extra two weeks past his due date — that kid was not ready to give up all the tuna melts and Entenmanns marshmallow iced devil’s food cake his mother was consuming).
When I have written about this momentous day before, I am sure I shared with all of you that Husband #1 showed his undying love and support by watching three baseball playoff games, while I desperately tried to have this child without any drugs. That only lasted 22 hours. Twenty-two hours of laboring in a rocking chair, on the floor, on my head, climbing the wall. What can you do?
My dad coming in and very gently and sweetly informing me that if I didn’t take the epidural, I was going to have to have a caesarean section.
The nurses changed shifts. My doctors switched. The sun rose, the sun set, the Yankees may or may not have lost (I didn’t really care) and finally, after missing the cutoff date for yeshiva day school by approximately 23 hours, Son #1 made his entrance. Baruch Hashem.
And then, just like that, you become a mother. You think your baby is the most special creature in the entire world. My favorite “becoming a mother” story and thinking that your child is the smartest, most advanced baby there ever was happened when Son #1 was about three weeks old.
I had just changed him and I was feeding him. I noticed that he had the most perfect tear drop on his cheek. “Wow,” I thought, “Babies aren’t supposed to develop tears for a few more weeks. What an advanced child I have.”
I decided to celebrate the moment by tasting this precious tear. Needless to say, it was not a tear. My adorable child was just like every other baby boy. He had peed on his face while I was changing him (probably with my eyes closed at 3 in the morning.) Yup, the things we do for our children.
I always say that Son #1 was so good that Son #2 arrived only 15 months later. Of course, Son #2 was proof that not every baby was as easy as Son #1, but we decided to keep him regardless.
Now that it is the holiday of Sukkot again, it brings back memories of all the yelling and screaming that went into getting the sukkah built and decorated. When I would stand on a ladder, with my three little cuties looking up at me while I put the schach on while saying, “If Mommy falls off the ladder, please call 911.”
In any event, happy birthday to Son #1. Thank you for making us parents, thank you and Dil #1 for making us grandparents, and may God bless you and your family and all of us with only good health, joy, and peace.
Banji Ganchrow of Teaneck is hoping you are all enjoying your holiday season, that your sukkah doesn’t fall down, that everyone is getting along, and that all of your food has been delicious.
comments