She reaches for the next shard of broken glass, confident that the worst has been remembered. The pieces contrasting against the black tile, almost beautiful, if she didn't know what they were, she would even say a work of art. Then again art can be very painful, can't it?
Gazing into the piece held in her wounded hand she is taken back again. A different hospital this time. She was told not to come in yet as she would most likely be sent home anyway. The contractions were not constant and regular, they said she wasn't ready. A woman knows her body and she knew it was time. She had to fight for a ride to the hospital, as he didn't want to go based on what the doctor said. She knew that her second son would soon be in her arms and used this as a threat. He finally caved in to her pleadings and brought her in.
The doctor arrived complaining that her workout was interrupted, but upon examination she quickly changed her attitude. Twenty minutes later there was a new healthy, beautiful baby boy screaming his way into the world.
She was glad for the lack of drama and pain with the birth of this one. Able to enjoy holding her baby to her immediately. What can be more glorious than this moment? Spent and worn out but still filled with an energy that only giving birth can bring.
Today she thinks of this child, out going and personable. He has no desire for academics, he prefers to build with his hands and run. The athletic one, she thinks he will be. He taught himself to do back flips on the trampoline and can run faster than any of his classmates.
He is not a baby when it comes to getting hurt, didn't even shed a tear when he had to have stitches in his lip. She told him, "Just breathe deep baby. The more you stay still, the faster it will be over with." He just nodded his head and keep his eyes on her, eyes filled with love holding back tears that wanted to fall. She smiled down at him as he lay on the gurney, brushed his hair back from his forehead, "I love you baby, you're a tough guy and doing good."
He has so much trust and faith in what she says to him. He believes in her and knows she, of everyone in the world, is on his side. She is patient with him as she teaches him to read and write, "Slow down baby, stop trying to rush it. It's better to be slow and correct than fast and wrong." She thinks his brain just moves too quick and needs a constant stimulation.
He is also going to be the lady's man. In kindergarten, he was already claimed for marriage by a cute little blonde girl who is always fashionably coordinated, usually in pink. They say men like woman who are like their mothers. This makes her chuckle to herself, remembering the day he came home from school acting dramatically depressed and even had a few crocodile tears. Upon asking what the trouble was, he admitted after some coaxing, "She broke up with me, Mom. What am I going to do now? Now ALL my children will have to have a step mom."
She kept her laughter to herself, as this was a serious matter. What a terrible world when one's children (who do not yet exist) are doomed to be raised by a wicked step mother!!These were her grandchildren he was talking about! "This is just a phase women go through baby. She will come to her senses soon enough." He hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek, "I love you, Mom." A glass of milk and a couple chocolate chip cookies later and the depression and tears for his future were gone.
Of late, she reflects on that conversation and wonders how many "ALL my children" encompasses. At least she can take stock in knowing she will get to be a grandmother some day. At least she can take stock in knowing that this handsome, hazel eyed little boy will always love her.
She smiles as she places this fragment on the table beside the other two pieces. She wonders, while gazing at them, perhaps she should try to put the pieces back together, and not just clean them up. Could that possibly be done?? She doesn't know... but thinks she should try........