Biscuit Boy

As most of you readers know, hubby and I have 5 beautiful kids, three girls and two boys. It lays out like this, 16 year old girl, 13 year old boy, 10 year old girl, 7 year old girl and 3 ½ year old boy.

My eldest son, (the 13 year old one), is the subject of my post today. S. has always been a wonderful child, not withstanding all of his “boy energy” that can sometimes be annoying and other times incredibly hilarious.

I remember being pregnant with him. I knew he was a boy, by an intuitive mama sense, as well as by the powerful kicks he gave me while still in utero. I would tell his Granddaddy (hubby’s dad) that he has got to be a football player or something, because those kicks would literally take the breath out of me, they were that strong!

His birth was a powerful experience. I was blessed to have had him at home with a wonderful midwife, Tioma. This was a big thing because #1; Most folks did not have their kids at home and #2; I had a c-section with my first child. So preparing for this homebirth was a kind of back and forth of “should I or shouldn’t I?”

When I was about 7 months pregnant, my hubby’s college friends came to visit. The both happened to be Drs, the husband a Opthamologist and wife an OB/GYN. When they asked me where I was giving birth, I happily exclaimed, Home! To this, our OB/GYN friend reacted in horror! "That", she said, "is the most horrible thing that I have ever heard of!" Naive me, I thought she would be happy for me, and be encouraging. That's the time when I began to understand that OB's and Midwives practiced from two entirely different paradigms.

Needless to say, from that point on I was really scared s**tless and called my midwife a few days later to call off the homebirth.
"Why?", she asked. "I really want to work with you." I mumbled something until in her skillful ways, she drew out of me my FEARS, one by one and laid them to rest. Of course, I am very thankful for that exercise, because if I had let the fear run me, I would have missed out on one of the most empowering, and amazing experiences of my life.

Not to say that I didn’t still worry a bit, about, what if this or that goes wrong, but at least I knew that I was in very capable hands and that there was a back-up plan in case of emergency.
Fast forward to the first weekend in March, 1994. I had begun laboring on that Saturday and continued on and off for days. My mom had already driven to Brooklyn from Jersey for support. But as my early, on and off again contractions dragged on, I felt I would be pregnant forever, and I felt silly that I had asked my mom to come (like I was never going to have that baby! Isn’t it funny how your mind plays tricks on you?)

Every time I felt the slightest twinge, contraction or discomfort, my mom or hubby would ask, “Are you alright?" Or “Was that a contraction?" I loved their support but was sick of their questions. On the 9th, (that was a Wednesday) I decided to attend a La Leche League meeting to get my mind off of the coming and going sensations I was having. Silly me, since I had never had labor the natural way, I had no ides that I was actually doing great, and that my body was slowly opening and my cervix gently softening with each wave. Although all the fun stuff had started on the Saturday prior, it wasn’t so bad that I couldn’t walk, talk or just relax and ride the rushes.

After the meeting, I stilled myself to listen to my inner voice. I could clearly hear that I should finish up any loose ends and the baby would come. So, I looked back over my to-do lists and got to work on completing every item. After coming home from the LLL meeting, my mom and I took the bus to McDonald’s, where I proceeded to eat like a damn pig. Then we walked back up Fulton St (about 8 blocks) with she and I taking turns on holding a then two ½ year old eldest child. It had started to snow.

Once home I was determined to finish those loose ends. I had done a styling job for Arrested Development and still had clothes to pack up and send back to their designers. After completing that, I got a phone call from a friend from college. As we talked, this buddy of mine proceeded to put in a state of goofiness with his jokes, causing me to get a severe case of the giggles when POP! My water broke with a vengeance and began to rush down my legs. I was still giggling and also feeling a lot a pressure as I rushed my bud off the phone, saying something classic like “I think my water just broke!”

Hubby called the midwife and here's where it gets sketchy-time began to have no meaning. At some point our midwife came and at some point I was climbing the walls and at some point I threw up ever morsel of my McDonald's meal, and at some point I was in the shower, and at some point the whole room we set up to have baby boy was changed by me 'cause the room I wanted to be in was much warmer, and at some point Tioma was tell me to breathe the baby down and at some point I could feel the ring of fire and then out came a head (relief) and then out slid a wet baby body (super relief)! Tioma dried off baby boy and then up to the breast, he latches. Happiness, Joy, counting fingers, counting toes, more joy, tears, thank you God!

Placenta out shortly after, look at that thing! Midwife examines it. Shows us the tree of life etched in it. We put it in the freezer to save for planting with a tree later. WOW! A little boy by my side. I’ve had that little boy by my side ever since.

I’m amazed by my boy. When he was a baby, my girlfriend Micheala gave him the nickname "Biscuit", cause he was so juicy, you just wanted to dip him in some gravy and sop him up!

My little sweetheart, who nursed for three years, is already several inches taller then I. (He never fails to remind me.) He’s a great student, and he is in love with animals. He has several snakes, turtles, lizards and other sundry creatures in the desert habitats that he created in his room.

He prefers hanging out with our adult friends, his grandparents and his uncles more then he hangs out with kids his age. He loves Richard Pryor, Dave Chapelle, Chris Rock and Katt Williams (he told me to add that). He’s got a wickedly dry sense of humor. He loves teasing his sisters. He loves dogs, (but I won’t get him one! Too much work!) He’s a music lover and digs the stuff of now and old skool equally. He is learning to play guitar and ain’t bad. He’s sensitive, shy at times and very handsome.

I look forward to the man he’ll become, the husband and father he will be. The profession he’ll choose, what will it be? He’d be a great vet or a great pediatrician, but of course, it’s his choice. One of the things I really love about him is that he really loves to hang out with his Grandmother and Grandfather.

I love my boy, now, my manchild. I’ve had this little boy by my side ever since and I pray to God that he will forever be as close to me, if not physically, in his heart, as he was when he was a baby, carried constantly in his sling. It’s so cool that when we go to church together, he scrunches down in his seat really far so that he can lay his head on my shoulder. I love it-I love him.

Thank you, S, for choosing me to be your mama. Let me always know how to be a good mama to you forever:)

Mama Kim