My Son

I have written about wrinkled toes, pink toe nails, sadness and issues. My favorite topic of all, is like most mother's my child. My son, he is everything I had dreamed of him being. I can remember the day I discovered I was pregnant. Me, pregnant!! Oh my god is this one of my good idea's or no? Too late now. As time progress's I realize that this making baby is not at all like on t.v. Somehow, I don't look as lovely as Lucy did on I Love Lucy, nor was I as chipper as Laura on Dick VanDyke. What the three of us had in common was the crying jags. My baby got here in record time. I suppose the falling down the stairs 10hrs earlier in the day, may have had something to do with him getting here. I remember the unbelievable pain, the no drugs, the fear when the doctor told me if I pushed with the pain, my son could die, the cord is tight around his neck. How can I not push. I begin my journey of protecting my baby fiercely. I don't push, and he is born screaming. My beautiful steamy baby boy. I can still hear his miraculous cry, his spread fingers and toes. I loved him, that very moment. Our love began. I was terrified as his father drove us home that rainy, cold day. I was afraid we would have a car wreck, I would not know how to get him out of the car seat, or worst what if I have no idea why he is crying. We made it through that first night, we made it until Christmas eve, my precious baby is 2 weeks old and perfect. Yet, why does it look as if he is turning blue? He is turning blue, this isn't right. My husband says I am being too cautious, nothing is wrong, I know there is! I don't care if there are visitors for Christmas. I call the Dr. and am told to rush my baby to the hospital. I am terrified. My baby, what is wrong, I can only imagine, and that my friends is my worst enemy at times. My baby spends his first Xmas not in his new santa jammies but in a hospital crib. I sit and watch him, I don't think I even blinked. I cryed and paced and prayed, yes prayed, I offered to die, if the Lord would just let me carry my son out of that hospital. The doctors said he simply would forget to breath, perhaps falling down those stairs started the process of birth, that my baby wasn't ready for. What had I done. The Lord allowed me to walk out of that hospital with my baby. To this very day, I hold true to the promise that I would willing die for my son. My son, was 7 months old when his father decided to leave. I once again cryed. What had I done to my baby. How will he grow to be a good man without a father. The day after his father left, I saw my precious baby boy reach for me, and smile. He wasn't afraid because I was there. I would not be afraid, I would not let him down. A love only a mother can know. Time passed, I watched my baby grow to a little boy. The day my son told me he loved me, he was just a baby, but those words were as if he had solved the problems of the world. All the doubts, fears and uncertainty of raising a baby alone faded that very moment. I knew I could and WOULD raise my son to be a good man. My little boy and I made sacrifices, for each other. I worked odd hours, I slept odd hours, I rushed to mother's day out, I rushed to kindergarten, I rushed to soccer games, he became use to my rushing, he knew momma went to work at night, he knew his momma didn't do what most momma's did, he learned to accept the fact I looked for bad guys, he learned to deal with worry. He learned that there were times I would have to work while other's had Thanksgiving with their momma's. But together we held strong. We were a family, a team, even if it was just the two of us, a family. He knew there would be thanksgiving dinner, even if it was a day early, there would always be a Christmas tree, and we would buy it together. We had traditions, the two of us. My son grew to be a good son. Little did I know that some of the fights he had in high school were because kids were teasing him about his mother being a cop, he has and will always be my champion. I would tell my son that people were not talking about his mother, they were talking about a cop, it didn't matter to him. He had a loyalty to me and to those officer's I called my friends. My son has grown to be tall, strong and smart. He has been my rock during times that I doubted myself,even as a child he knew how to say the words that would calm me, restore my drive and make me believe in myself again. Was my son easy to raise, nope, he was a hand full. My men friends would laugh at me, when I would be furious and crying cause of his stunts, or they would offer advice that I just could not do, and no he was and is not a momma's boy. He loves me, he respects me and he appreciates all the efforts I have put forth.
He says he is PROUD of me. Are there any greater words, other than "I love you momma." that a mother can hear.I love him, I am proud of him and he is everything I ever dreamed of in a beautiful, precious little boy (will always be in my heart)young man. NOEL, I LOVE YOU SON.