The Happiest Day!

My oldest son turned nine yesterday. He was supposed to have been born on St. Patrick's day in 1998 (which would have been great given my Catholic background) but my refusal of epidural and the pressure of trying to wait for natural birth pushed his arrival back an hour and 43 minutes after midnight on March 18. Twenty- three hours of labor pains and mind-numbing contractions eventually led to a caesarean section anyway; I was just happy our first-born was healthy and kicking when he came into the world.

When the nurse handed my son to me, that world of mine stood still. Barely ten minutes out of the womb, my son was alert and his eyes took in the room - staring to the left and right..up and across. I cried and cried and promised to myself then and there, that I am his mother and he is my child and I shall do nothing else but nurture and love him for the rest of my life. Day by day I began to see myself the way my son must surely have seen me...I am neither troubled nor scared, fat nor skinny, unattractive nor demure; I am just beautiful and I am the one he needs. I am his mother, his source, his guide. And the more I saw myself through my baby's eyes, the better a person I became; totally cured of all my insecurities.

They say your children are your greatest achievement in life. Yes, they are. BUT also for me, proving that I am a good mother will be the best achievement of all. Happy birthday to the little baby who made me healthy nine years and a day ago...