I hold in my arms the nine pound culmination of all
my hopes and dreams. Every unanswered prayer and
unfulfilled desire was finally granted. Brian Alexander
Fielden arrived at 11:13 on December 12 weighing 9 lbs. 1
oz and measuring 21 ½ inches. I feel that between him
and his daddy the whole world is mine. I cannot
imagine that there will ever be moments happier than those
I spend with my family.
It is one of nature's
oddest tricks that in the midst of my greatest joy I am
beset with weeping spells, depression and
hypersensitivity. My husband has learned that the best-intentioned
jibe can send me into a flurry of tears. My maternity
clothes are too big but nothing else fits properly because
of the lingering pregnant shape. The state of my
still flabby abdomen and the dreaded stretch marks are a
source of continual angst. In my worst moments I am
convinced that I am fat and ugly and will be so forever.
Thank god this set in after the first two days during
which I looked like someone had blackened both my eyes.
A few hours after a rough labor I caught sight of
myself in the mirror and was shocked. I knew I'd lost a
lot of blood and would look run down but I hadn't
realized that I'd burst bunches of blood vessels in my face
or that I'd be quite so dead looking. They should
really remove the mirrors from the bathrooms in the
recovery ward. It's just kinder.
The bout of baby blues
will pass, I know. I have just to muddle through the
first six weeks or so. By then I will also (hopefully)
have overcome my terror that I'm the world's least fit
mother. I know nothing about babies. I had to find a web
page to tell me how to change a diaper.
(www.learn2.com)
Even at that, my husband's prior experience was
needed to save me from my first attempt. No, I won't tell
that story yet, the embarrassment hasn't quite faded.
Maybe in another 50 years or so. For now my son seems to
be surviving my foibles. Despite my anxieties I have
yet to drop him or stick him with a pin (yay
disposable diapers!) or damage him in any way, come to think
of it. I'm learning as I go and while it may be
occasionally messy for my son, his clothes, my clothes, the
walls, etc. it will all come out right in the end. The
important thing is that I have my son. That's possibly the
most beautiful phrase I've ever written - "my son."
A
few people have asked me if I plan on going back to
work or doing something "fulfilling" with my time. I'm
never sure if they're joking or not. Fulfilling? There's
something out there more worthwhile that Brian? Sure I'll
probably go back to college eventually but for now I have
my priority. He's here, he's beautiful and he's mine.
What more could I want?
if you have any questions or comments!