My mother
suggested I do a blog entry about my son.
I have been thinking about it and found that it’s going to take a few
blog entries to tell my son’s story.
I think
every parent thinks their child is special, and they are. Why do I think my son is so special, that I’m
blogging about him? Why do I feel the
need to share his story with you?
A few people
online know that I’ve been taking my son to see specialists. The buck has stopped with a heart specialist,
and my story doesn’t have an ending yet.
Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself.
He is 15yrs
right now, but in truth looking back at his life, his coming into the world
wasn’t easy.
When he was
in the womb I struggled with depression and suicidal thoughts, he was the only thing that stopped me from following
through with my suicide.
In the womb
one doctor noticed a heart mummer, so I was transferred to an older doctor that
didn’t notice a heart mummer. The doctor
did notice in the 9th month that the scans of his growth rate had stopped and
seemed to be regressing so my son came into the world by C-section, weeks before due date a few ounces shy of 6 lbs.
I was
struggling with depression so I really didn’t care that his father wouldn’t let
anyone hold our son until 2 months after our son was born.
The bond
between mother and child was not there for me.
I would look at him, and feel no emotional motherly bond with the
baby.
I pitied the
baby, for being born to such a worthless mother. The world was filled with women that can’t
have babies, one of them would make a better mother to him then I will
ever. That was the thoughts in my head
every time I looked at him.
New Year’s
2000, I was in a Mental Hospital under suicide watch.
It’s funny, that it was there that I
discovered that I wasn’t such a bad mother.
I wasn’t a druggie mother that wrapped her baby in a blanket so she
could go see her dealer to get herself a fix in the middle of winter in a car
that the heater didn’t work. I wasn’t
the drunken mother that passed out in the middle of fixing noodles for her kid
and caused the house to catch on fire.
I got more
out of those two mother’s sharing their stories with me while we were out in
the court yard smoking cigarettes then I did the counselors and Dr.
More of my
son’s story will come next Friday.
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