25th February 2002. The day it all changed. After a torturous labour punctuated with drugs, monitors and laudably fanciful birth plans the Boy Wonder was pulled into this world. I won’t repel you with the tale of the stitch-up job by the midwifery trainee, suffice to say it was interminable and humiliating in equal measure.
But that’s not was this is about.
That day I stepped over the gangland lines of delineation, to be inducted into a whole new community. With the birth of my son, I was in many ways reborn. The process had begun – I was a mother, albeit one with much to learn.
Since that day my understanding has grown, I have left that old life behind and only occasionally yearn for the carelessness and freedom that it gifted. I am part of a movement now, sharing commonality with millions of others. We can communicate with only the merest of nods, a raised eyebrow or a weighted sigh. We have strength, understanding and compassion and when we join forces we can accomplish pretty much anything.
I chose this image for the Gallery because it represents three generations of motherhood. (I don’t have the digital images so this is a picture of a picture – please excuse the quality, although the bonus is that the bags under my eyes are slightly disguised.) It was taken on my wedding day, in October 2002, nearly 8 months after I’d become a mother myself. It wasn’t your typical wedding, we only invited immediate family and our wedding night was interrupted by screams from our baby demanding to sleep with his parents and not his grandparents. For all that it didn’t really fit into the fantasy wedding pigeonhole, I loved it. It was about us, our family, and our reason for being.
and this pretty much sums up the whole day:
This post was written for The Gallery, over at Sticky Fingers. The prompt for this week was ‘Motherhood’.