21 years ago today, in Houston, TX at 6:47PM, my son entered this world.
Since that day, we've been through ups and downs, triumphs and disappointments, the 'stuff' of life. I can say that I've loved him every single minute of his life. I still do.
In the last couple of days, a situation has surfaced and I have never in my entire life been so scared for him as I am right now. I am desperately clinging to the hope that he will be OK and I am asking all of you, in the entire universe to say a prayer for my son.
Please.
God/dess help him, bless him and keep him - he needs as much love and support right now as he can.
I am going to re-run what I wrote on his 18th birthday and I am going to hope and pray he gets through what he faces right now.
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For Tony....Happy Birthday to my son.
On this day, 18 years ago he came into this world, amidst bright lights and noise, people rushing about; a screaming passage through my womb as his 8 lb body and those shoulders passed...
He was hard to conceive. We tried for 2 years unsuccessfully until finally a doctor suggested the basal body temperature method and wham – it seemed to work like lightening. I know the exact day he was conceived. December 12, 1987.
I went through the pregnancy with a doctor I loved at first. A mid-wife from India whom I have to thank for bringing me to the physical practice of Hatha Yoga. Unfortunately, I developed problems during pregnancy so I then moved to another ‘real’ doctor. I was about 4 months along with Tony and they performed an AFP (amnio fetal protein) test on me – this doctor was convinced that because of the results of the test (the measure of the enzyme was too low) that Tony had Down’s Syndrome. She basically told me that my husband and I would have 1 week to decide whether we wanted to keep the baby or terminate (I have never in all my days had a doctor suggest an abortion to me – heck I can remember trying to get that info and being made to feel like a criminal – that’s for a later rant). I was in shock, paralyzed. I KNEW this woman was full of shit. She wanted me to do an amniocentesis procedure – I refused – so she had no choice but to do an ultrasound. That was when we found out not only was she wrong but that our baby was going to be a boy, (a fact that his father argued with the tech about endlessly while I lay on the table, my bladder ready to burst). My son was perfect. He still is...
I eventually developed gestational diabetes – I was huge and had to be put on a special diet and be very strict, lest I end up on insulin (this required yet another doctor)– I weighed close to 200 lbs with my son by my 8th month. The doctors were very concerned, and it was decided I should be delivered at least a week before my due date so he would not weigh 10 lbs. I made the mistake of telling the OB/GYN that my husband’s birthday was September 19th. That was the day he chose. As the day approached I tried everything within my power to go into labour. I did not want my son born on his dad’s birthday. I wanted him to have his own birthday.
No such luck.
We went to the hospital at 6AM the morning of September 19, 1988. They made us sit for hours. Finally, my husband went to hunt someone down. I had been up all night fretting over my labour (with my daughter labour took 48 hours), I was not looking forward to this at all. My husband had wanted to video tape the birth – I wanted to slap him – I told him no.
We were finally put in a birthing room. My husband immediately turned on the TV and of course the Olympics were on (LOL), he began making ‘small talk’ I basically told him to saw it off – this will become important later…
Because of blood pressure concerns, I was put on an auto-cuff device that would test my B/P every couple of minutes. The nurse was sent in to do a petosin drip on me. I told her she needed to be careful because I was ‘hard to hit’ she kind of yelled at me and told me she had been doing this for 30 years. Well she went to hit me in the arm the cuff was squeezing, just as she stuck the needle in my and started ‘fishing around’ for the vein, the machine squeezed my arm and she blew out my vein (literally) my hand was in excruciating pain. The nurse started blubbering – I wanted to kill her. My husband left the room and went down the hall and came back with a surgical glove filled with ice. To this day – I will always remember that small kindness and love him for that alone. My hand was swelling up and turning purple and hurt worse than the ‘6 on the Richter scale’ contractions I was beginning to have – the ice was a God-send.
The labour went pretty well – they gave me stuff for pain (I was no hero back then) but as is always the case – it wears off and the most difficult labour was done with no pharmaceutical help whatsoever. As Tony’s shoulders passed they could hear me screaming 2 floors down (yeah a fat lot of good that Yoga shit was then LOL).
He was out. I could barely see. He was healthy from all indicators. They took him from me to clean him up and then brought back my beautiful bundle of boy/joy *smiles*...
It was then that I found out that the entire time, my wonderful husband had been audio-taping me in labour and delivery. His ‘small talk’ was to see if the tape recorder was capturing me sound, he captured me telling him he ‘would never touch me again’ this proved to be accurate...
How I found this little ditty out was because he told me he was going to call his dad to deliver the news of the first grand-child in their family. He got his dad on the phone and he said ‘Dad, I want you to hear something’. There was pause then the most unearthly scream I had ever heard came emanating from over where my husband stood on the phone...
‘No dad, that’s not Tony, THAT’S Colleen, wait here’s Tony’...
The nurse looked at me – we both looked over at my husband and the nurse said: ‘I’d divorce him over something like that...’ Yeah...later sweets..
So my son’s first cries were audio taped – I have half a mind to play it at his wedding – but I won’t and yes he has heard his own cries...(and by the way they started out sounding like the word ‘Maaaa…’ cause his dad and I talked to him constantly while he was inside of me...and his father always referred to me as ‘Ma’ in these little ‘talks’).
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Last night, before I went to bed, I went downstairs cause I had heard my son come in form work. It was about 11:30 PM and as usual, he was playing the guitar he constantly walks around the house with, a permanent fixture, hanging from his neck, when he’s not doing something else.
I said; ‘Tony stand up’
He did.
‘Put down your guitar’
He did
‘I want to hug you now, before you turn 18’
We hugged. I whispered in his ear how proud I was of him and how happy I was that he was born...he asked if I could scratch his back cause it was itchy...now there’s a Kodak moment.
I plan to hug him again tonight...and every chance I get in the future as well.
So happy birthday to you son. Today you are a man. You’ve been one for a while I know but this is the official kick off to your manhood. May you be everything your heart desires to be. May no dream ever be out of your reach.
Goddess bless and keep you all your days.
Labels: Tony
