TARA MANDARANO
  • Blog
  • Editing
  • Published Work
  • Contact

That Moment I Became Your Mother

11/17/2015

16 Comments

 
Picture
 
​Two years ago today you came and changed everything. You also gave me a name I never had before: Mama. Everybody has a birth story, a narrative that reveals how their soul navigated itself into the world. This is yours.

You didn't want to have the same birthday as me, so you took your time about vacating the womb. I went to bed the night after you were due and woke up in pain at 3am. Your night owl Papa hadn't gone to bed yet, so he saw the light come on under the door. I'm pretty sure his first thought was a panicked "shit!" He timed my contractions with an app. Yes, you read that right. They were five minutes apart and we grabbed our bag for the hospital, delirious with adrenaline and anticipation.

When we arrived at five in the morning, the hospital lobby was dark and quiet. The nurses examined me and said I was only a "fingertip" dilated. They advised going home and getting some rest before the big show began. Like that was ever going to happen. We roamed the corridors for an hour and came back with a promise of morphine.

The epidural was epic. Suddenly, having a baby wasn't a big deal. I could talk and joke from my hospital bed and forget what lay ahead of me. But then we found out you were "sunny side up," an expression I'd never heard outside brunch discussions. I pushed and pushed and the back labour was beyond what we learned about in our prenatal classes. When the doctors said it was c-section time, I was more than willing to sign on the dotted line.

I remember shaking like a tea cup in the operating room, a side effect of the drugs. Your Papa was in scrubs, trying not to look terrified. They lifted you out of my belly at 6.51 a.m. Seeing you squall, hearing the word "girl" -- it was overwhelming and awe-inspiring at the same time.

The moment you were first separate from me, from my body -- that's when I truly became your mother. Tiny, pale and perfect, all I wanted was to protect you. I forgot about being pulled and tugged and sewn up. I told your Papa to go to you, to comfort you as they weighed you. He didn't know he was allowed to touch you.

I am so grateful we both got to enjoy skin-on-skin time with you. I remember the anesthesiologist taking our first family picture. Holding you in the recovery room, you were conked out in a self-induced stupor I would only learn about later. It helped you block out the shock of being born.

I remember introducing you to your grandmothers, telling them your names. A gift to honour the women you came from. You were a solid weight in my arms, swaddled tight in that ubiquitous hospital blanket. You felt like love. 

16 Comments
Kathleen McGinn
11/17/2015 15:28:17

Great idea Tara to document all these beautiful sentiments.

Reply
Tara Mandarano
11/17/2015 15:30:25

Thank you so much, Kathleen! It's a way to remember all the moments we share -- big and small. :)

Reply
Sharon
11/17/2015 15:55:07

Beautiful Tara! i really enjoy reading your work.

Reply
Tara Mandarano
11/17/2015 16:05:13

Thank you so much, Sharon! Your support means the world to me. :)

Reply
Daniela
11/17/2015 16:17:43

This is beautiful Tara! I'm looking forward to reading more and more of your beautifully written and wonderful stories. Thank you so much for sharing this journey with us!

Reply
Tara Mandarano
11/17/2015 17:42:00

Thank you so much, Daniela! I appreciate you following along. :)

Reply
Grace
11/17/2015 21:10:37

I can't wait to read these. Your writing is so engaging!

Reply
Tara Mandarano
11/17/2015 22:07:24

Thank you, Grace!

Reply
Tara Mandarano
11/18/2015 10:52:25

Thank you, Grace! Happy to hear you can relate to it. :)

Reply
Kelly
11/17/2015 22:15:22

As always, so beautifully written. I love being pulled into your mind and heart. ❤

Reply
Tara Mandarano
11/18/2015 10:52:53

Thank you!

Reply
Michael link
11/17/2015 23:27:36

That day is seared into my memory as well. You captured it so beautifully as always, T.

Reply
Colleen
11/18/2015 01:18:57

I love reading your posts, you have a wonderful way with words. I look forward to reading future posts.

Reply
Tara Mandarano
11/18/2015 10:53:22

Thank you, Colleen! I look forward to sharing them. :)

Reply
Alison
11/18/2015 07:35:19

How beautiful Tara!! x

Reply
Tara Mandarano
11/18/2015 10:54:07

Thank you for your kind words, Ali :)

Reply



Leave a Reply.

    Picture

    Tara Mandarano

    is a writer, editor, and poet. Her writing ​has been nominated for the Best-of-the Net award, and has appeared in The Washington Post, HuffPo, Today's Parent, Los Angeles Review of Books, and Motherwell, among numerous other publications. She is also an advocate in the mental health and chronic illness communities.

      Never miss a post!

    Subscribe to Newsletter

    Archives

    March 2022
    May 2021
    February 2021
    March 2020
    February 2020
    November 2019
    July 2019
    May 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    July 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    January 2018
    November 2017
    September 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

    Picture
    I'm Published by Mamalode!
    Picture
Proudly powered by Weebly
  • Blog
  • Editing
  • Published Work
  • Contact