It was a day like today, fourteen years ago I gave birth to
you. The white that blanketed the roads and commons, made me squint my eyes,
the bitter iciness of the wind stung my face, and took my breath away. The snow
came down hard, car tires made that funny crunching sound as they went. People
skidded, and fell as the snow hardened into a severe sheet of ice. It was the
coldest winter they’ve had in sixty years, the British had said, shaking their
heads.
We lived on 37 Coniston Road, Coventry, while I did my
Masters. Before moving to 67 Dugdale Road where I did my PhD. “They were
horrendous, absolutely horrendous” The old Irish woman who lived next door to
us on Coniston Road, liked to say of how brutal the British were to the Irish
during the war. Every time we met out on the porch, I said good morning, or
hello, and she’d ask me to repeat what I said “I’m a little deaf, it happens to
everyone you know” she’d yell with a little mocking laugh. It’s a shame I forgot
what her name was.
My due date was December 25th. My midwife was
happy that I was to have a Christmas baby. And the nurse who squeezed the cold gel
on my enormous stomach, and ran the transducer on my belly during the
ultrasound, was happy I was going to have a Christmas baby. Due date. Everyone
wanted to know when my due date was. For nine months my whole life revolved
around my due date. Little did I know that you’d change my whole life, the end
of those nine months was just the beginning, not the end.
But you were an early baby, eager and in a hurry to arrive,
and you came on the 19th. I welcomed your early arrival, my stomach
had grown so big, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, my breathing was labored, I
was so tired. When I read that walking can help induce the delivery, I went up
and down the stairs, it was too cold to walk outside, I could slip on the ice.
Up and down the stairs I went in that little house, until my water broke and
the pains came.
When you were little you used to love getting your picture
taken, or at least you didn’t mind it. Now you scowl and groan each time I tell
you I want to take your picture. I hope you change your mind again, and go back
to loving it once more.
You’re fourteen. Happy Birthday my love. It’s been the most
beautiful adventure. Thank you for all the joy you’ve brought into my life.
Thank you for teaching me what enormous love and compassion I am capable of.
