Mother's Day

My mom and I have a fantastic relationship--as long as we are only a phone call away from each other. This enables us to talk when we want to and hang up on each other when the need arises. The first time I ever hung up on her, it was terrifying and liberating all at the same time. She says her chin hangs up on me, not her. Some days I don't buy it.

Mom and I have been together a long, long time. We might have a much better relationship if 5 other people hadn't shown up, decided to become involved, and ruined the good thing we had going. We had just under 2 magical years together; just me and Mom, wo-mano eh wo-mano. (Don't judge my Spanish butchering--I speak French.) 


But our problems go back to my entry into this world. You see Grandpa Hershal was supposed to deliver me but chickened out at the last minute. His partner in crime, Dr. Hook, ended up delivering me. Apparently Mom's labor wasn't progressing as rapidly as he would like so he dropped some Pitocin into her I.V. Then a nurse showed up to put something called "Dr. Hook's Cocktail" into the I.V.--just to help Mom relax and get a bit of rest. Mom asked, "Will that put me to sleep? I don't want to go to sleep." She doesn't remember anything after she felt the 'cocktail' hit her vein.

When she woke up, no one was in the room with her and the monitors were very quiet. She hit the call button and started calling for my dad, who had gone to Grandma and Grandpa's to take a nap of his own. When the nurse showed up to answer her call light, she asked my mom if she wanted to see her baby girl. My mother--wonderful, sainted woman that she is--told the nurse she didn't have a baby girl and wanted to know when she was supposed to push. (I would have thought the lack of contractions would have been the tip-off here that pushing was no longer necessary. But, I've never been in labor and have no kids so, what do I know?) The nurse kept insisting that my mom meet me; my mother vehemently denied that I existed. They had to call my dad to come get me out of the nursery and bring me to my mom so that she would believe that she had just had a beautiful baby girl. And I was gorgeous; you should totally see the pictures. (I would show them to you but MJT has dropped the ball on emailing them to me.) There's a huge reason my dad was my favorite.


So you see, I was denied from the womb by the woman who carried me for 9 months. It wasn't even my fault she wasn't awake when I arrived. But I got her back a few months later. I have had night terrors since I was brought home from the hospital; scared my parents badly. I started walking at 8 months and sang "Happy Birthday" to myself on my 1st birthday because I was talking in sentences by the time I was 9 months old. Anyway, I would have these night terrors and you couldn't wake me up. My mom said the only thing that soothed me was rocking in a rocking chair until the screams stopped. When I started talking though, I would talk in my sleep. My mom said she would be rocking me and I would reach up and pat her face. Guess what her sweet angel baby would say to her?

"I want my mommy. I want my mommy."

Broke my mom's heart the first few times it happened. She would tell me, "Mommy's right here, sweetheart." I would continue patting her face and say over and over, "I want my mommy."

When I was a teenager, I told her I hated her. Her response: "Well, I love you and hope you have a child just like you." She put the Mother's Curse on me! This may be why she has no grandchildren from me. That and the whole must be married because I need someone to be the Daddy so that I can be the Mommy. (Plus, someone has to keep it together when I panic. Or just be there to video tape my freaking out. In the interest of posterity, of course, and for his own personal amusement.) I was a holy terror and am chicken that my kids WILL be like me. The Teenage Years! Oh, the HORROR!

Happy Mother's Day, Cathy!

High School Senior, 1972

Ignoring me while I was taking pictures, 2008.

Mom and Noah the Great, grandson #1. 1 May 2011.