AND SO LIFE GOES

I woke up this morning with the following email on my computer:

“Can you believe it's been twenty-seven years ago, that you were 2 weeks away from giving birth to your first born?

I bet you had no clue the challenges that were going to follow, did you?

I love you Mom,

Brandon”

Indeed, I did not. Nor could I possibly comprehend back then the love and joy the journey of raising our son would bring... or, just how much it would forever and always change my life.

The early fall of 1978 found me an adoring bride. Like many young women of the day, along with the excitement of being a new wife I carried deep within me an overwhelming desire to become a mother…and right away. Despite the fact that my handsome husband and I had no money, low paying jobs and very high school debt, I still wanted to start a family. Silly girl…I’d make different choices today. But that was then and this is now...

After years of trying unsuccessfully to conceive, I found myself growing discouraged during my daily prayer time as it focused more on negotiating with God for a child and less about His plan for my life. Still, He was there. Always willing to lead and guide and of course, listen. Our doctor had no answers for us and each passing month brought deep disappointment. My hubby on the other hand was full of faith. He knew someday we’d be blessed with a child and that our most fervent of prayers would be answered. It was fitting, I suppose, that on a bright and cheerful Sunday morning, Mother’s Day 1981, I would discover I was finally “expecting”.



My long awaited pregnancy with my son proved a difficult one. I will spare you the details and will only say that after nine months of carrying him he was unwilling to emerge from the slumber of my protective womb without assistance. Painful labor (is there another kind?) and fetal distress, followed by chaos and panic filled my hospital room and I recall only a pale look of concern upon husband’s face and a masked surgeon. I would awaken two hours later to a sea of endless tubes, loud machines and the words “It’s a miracle your baby is alive! Congratulations Rebecca…you have a son!”

The first time I saw my baby his soft brown eyes were barely open and a faint twinge of blue lingered on his tiny lips and noticeably swollen face. He was beautiful and all I had imagined him to be and more! It was nearly impossible to reach out for him as my arms were too weak to raise, the result of trauma and surgery I suppose. It was his daddy who placed him on my right side so we could bond... I remember clearly how it was his tiny hands that pulled me close… as if to say “Oh, I know you! I’ve been waiting to see you for so long now! Were did you go? Where have you been? I’ve been missing you!”

With Divine help, I had managed to safely deliver my cargo and we would call him “Brandon”. Nothing since that early February morning ever was, or would be again, the same.

My son is grown now with a babe and life of his own. With a breath of fresh wind he grew into a loving and kind man, one not unlike father. On the rare occasion we are able to spend time alone, really alone, I can still see within his face the dip in his bottom lip and the same soft brown eyes that first cried out for me. This time it is I that pull him close…as if to say “Oh, I know you! I’ve been waiting to see you for so long now! Where did you go? Where have you been? I’ve been missing you!”

And...so life goes….

“Happy Birthday beautiful man-child of mine! My heart is always with you and even after all these years, I’m still so proud!"

"Thank you, God."

Blessings…Rebecca