Strength in Motherhood
I’ve always been proud of my children. From infancy to adult and motherhood, my daughters have amazed and humbled me. I am the proud grandmother of ten precious wonders and each has a special place in my heart.
Grandbaby number ten came into this world in January 2014. His entrance wasn’t as planned but you won’t find a happier, healthier bundle of joy. I think awesome describes him along with his mother. He was born at home without all the trappings of modern day medicine. He was delivered by his mother, alone, on the bathroom floor while his three year old sister watched cartoons in the other room.
My youngest daughter has never understood her strengths. She’s overcome many obstacles in her life but they are her stories to share with the world, not mine. I will say she fights the demons of depression, anxiety, and extreme OCD. Only she could have a bathroom floor more sterile than any hospital room could ever be.
It hurt to think of her fear while lying in the bathtub in too much pain to do more than call to her young daughter between labor pains and ask if she was okay. I was in the car driving, more than an hour away, when my son-in-law called and said he was behind the ambulance taking her and my newest grandchild to the hospital.
The amazing part of this story is my daughter’s words when she came home from the hospital with her healthy little boy.
“Mom, it was the most incredible experience of my life and I wouldn’t change it for the world. A sense of calm settled over me with no fear or panic as I gave birth and pulled him up on my chest. He was beautiful and no one took him from me to clean and blanket him. The two of us lay there happy and peaceful, no hustle and bustle like we were part of a medical procedure. When the ambulance arrived, they took his vitals while he remained on my chest. The hospital didn’t take him away from me, to weigh him, for over two hours. They respected my need to keep him safe in my arms.”
What can I say? My miracle performed one of her own.
In the months since he was born, my daughter and I have had many conversations about that special day. She recently asked why women have lost the knowledge to give birth—the how and what to do. Birth is the most basic act in our world and I couldn’t agree with her more. I never taught my daughters how to birth a child and what to do afterward because even after three of my own, I don’t know.
Modern science has saved many babies that wouldn’t have survived. But, the woman in me, the mother, the feminist wants more. I don’t want a You Tube video or pamphlet. I want teaching for our daughters and sons of the most fundamental act in nature until that teaching is no longer necessary because it’s a fact of our lives again.
My daughter’s strength is something I’ve always known. Now she knows it too.
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