Dear Michael,
You were 2 1/2 when we moved to San Antonio. Not my first choice for places to be stationed but I was glad to be back in the States. I was cold for the three years we were in England. The dampness was more than I could handle. I do like England and want to visit but I need sunshine. We did get lots of sun in San Antonio. And heat...oh the heat. We went from 80 degrees being a heatwave in England (literally...London hit 80 for a few days straight one summer and it was a headline in the Times) to 100 degrees in April.
Patrick was born a few months after we arrived in Texas. That April was so hot. I had to readjust to being in the heat. But I didn't mind it. I was glad to be warm! I think after Patrick was born, you got a bit lost in the shuffle. I wish I'd paid more attention to you so you didn't feel left out. I wonder now how you felt after Patrick arrived.
And when Patrick started having trouble gaining weight and he had to have casts on his feet and legs, there was so much focus on him. I wonder if even though your Dad was at home with you, how much attention he paid to you. Honestly, I just don't know. I was the one taking Patrick to the doctor, staying in the hospital with him, and working.
There was so much focus on Patrick. Did you feel neglected? I often wonder about that. The first year of Patrick's life is a blur for me. Maybe you were young enough that you don't remember either.
Then when Joshua came along and also had problems, I imagine you felt extremely left out. Both Patrick and Joshua had special needs and received a lot of attention. Plus, they are closer in age than you are to them. They went to CAMP together, often went to the doctor together and all the while you were fine. You didn't need "special attention." While I can't change the past, I do think back and wonder if I made sure you weren't left out.
But I do remember fun times. More so when Patrick and Joshua were older. We'd be in the car and play the alphabet game. You always won I seem to recall. Eagle eyes and quick brain.
Those trips we took up to your Dad's were some of the best times. We'd leave early in the morning while it was not quite light yet. We had lots of snacks for the road. I'd usually pack a lunch that we'd eat somewhere along the road. We'd always stop at that cheesy place, "South of the Border." The signs were the best part. "You're always a wiener at South of the Border", "I never sausage a place", X number of miles to South of the Border.
You always sat in the front. One benefit of being the oldest. I remember once when we still lived in Texas and took a driving trip to Georgia. You sat in the back that time so you could take care of Joshua, who was still in a car seat. Such a big boy and great helper. On the way back we stopped at the beach in Mississippi or Louisiana. Short visit but fun.
I remember the first time you went to stay with your Dad after he and I split up. I cried and cried. That was the first time I'd been away from you other than when I was in the hospital with Patrick and Joshua. Remembering the car driving away with you in it still makes me teary.
You will always be my first born. We had our time with just the two of us. I remember when you were about one and we'd sit in the floor and read books. You could say your ABC's when you were about one. So bright. We'd go outside and play in the yard or go to the market. Mostly we'd stay at home and just be together. My baby boy.
When you went to stay with your Dad for good, I lost something precious. I missed you so much and wanted so much for you to come back to live with me. But I did what I thought was best for you. I still miss you so much that it hurts.
Love,
Mom
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Coming home
Dear Michael,
When I brought you home from the hospital, I kept you in a laundry basket beside my bed but mostly you slept with me. These days they say that is dangerous but I didn't want you very far from me. When I think back to those early days, I smile.
However, I know it wasn't easy. You didn't sleep much and I was exhausted. But boy was I in heaven. I loved dressing you up and taking your picture. They don't make cute boy clothes like they do for girls but I was determined. You wore a lot of hats. Your grandmother begged for a photo without a hat so she could see your hair! She didn't get to see you until you were 2 years old. I wish she could have been there when you were born.
It was a struggle during those years. I worked crazy shifts in the Air Force and didn't get to spend as much time with you as I wished. I'd work four 3-11 shifts, have 24 hours off, work four 11 pm to 7 am shifts, have 24 hours off, work four 7 am to 3 pm shifts and then have 96 hours off. Sounds like it would be nice having different times of the day off but it really wears you out. I was so tired while I was in England. The shift work and the gray skies made it a challenge. I'd go for days without seeing the sun, especially during the winter.
In the winter in England, the sun would set at 4 or 4:30 and if you are at work until 3:30 in a building with no windows, you don't really get to see the sun. And since it rains so much in England even if you are off during the day you may not see the sun. Maybe living in England for the first 2 years of your life is the reason you like rainy days.
But I'd really like to go back for a visit. If they had more sun, I'd enjoy living there. I was cold for the three years we lived there. But like I said, I'd really love to go back for a visit. I'd like to go with you and show you the places we lived, the places we visited, the places of your infancy.
Going back now, I can do the things we couldn't do when we lived there. We were so poor. Military folks don't make much money and back then was no different. Trying to support a family of 3 on my Air Force salary was a struggle. In true military fashion, the lower ranking folks weren't allowed to live on the base. So we had to live off base on the economy and with an exchange rate of over $2 a pound, it was very difficult.
Your father and I got married so young, too young. Your father and I had been dating for a couple of months when I decided that I really didn't want to date him any longer. When I tried to end the relationship, those around us said I was being mean. Of all things, I didn't want to be considered mean. So, instead we got married. I was under the false impression that once we got married, it would be picket fences and roses. In 1981, I still thought of marriage as a fairy tale.
Your father is a nice person and I won't say anything about him that isn't true. I'm not passing judgment, just telling it how it was. We both were too young to be married. Then after your dad was forced out of the Air Force, it made things extremely difficult. In England he couldn't work off base and the only jobs on base were low paying. Most military spouses are women and even more so back then.
We both made mistakes. He often wasn't there when I needed him. The first Christmas after you were born, he left me at home with you and went to the base with his friends. I had yet to learn to stand up for myself and say what I felt. I wanted him to stay home with me and you. I should have told him that but I felt like he shouldn't have even considered going. I think that's when my dislike of Christmas began.
It must have been right after that Christmas that you spoke your first word. You were in your walker (back then walkers weren't considered bad) and you rushed over to me and said "Mama." I was the happiest person alive at that moment and I can still see and hear it even today. You were wearing a yellow jumpsuit.
One of the hardest things was trying to take care of you after working the night shift. Your dad would leave you with me during the day while he went to work or wherever. When you were really young, you stayed in your crib and it was okay. But once you started walking (9 months! You did everything early!) it was tough.
Once I woke up to see you perched on the window ledge. We were upstairs in the bedroom and you managed to open the window (it was the kind with a crank) and climb up in it. You were probably around twelve months at the time. After that, I would stay downstairs with you. One of the scariest moments of my life.
We lived in three different houses while in England. No one wanted to renew our lease. I can't blame them. If I was the landlord of your dad and I back then, I wouldn't have renewed either. The house was a mess, the yard was never tended, and we couldn't manage to pay the rent on time.
So in retrospect, living in England was one of the best times of my life and also one of the darkest, literally and figuratively. Going back would allow me to make new memories with you and allow me to visit England properly.
I didn't intend for this to be such a depressing letter but somehow that's what turned up in my memory. We can't change the past but we shouldn't forget it either. I wish I had been in the position to give you a childhood with white picket fences and tree-lined streets. But military families don't always have those options. And then as a single parent of three boys, I was lucky if we had a place to sleep. While you three boys were growing up, I was doing the same.
Next week I'll tell you happier stories.
Love, Mom
When I brought you home from the hospital, I kept you in a laundry basket beside my bed but mostly you slept with me. These days they say that is dangerous but I didn't want you very far from me. When I think back to those early days, I smile.
However, I know it wasn't easy. You didn't sleep much and I was exhausted. But boy was I in heaven. I loved dressing you up and taking your picture. They don't make cute boy clothes like they do for girls but I was determined. You wore a lot of hats. Your grandmother begged for a photo without a hat so she could see your hair! She didn't get to see you until you were 2 years old. I wish she could have been there when you were born.
It was a struggle during those years. I worked crazy shifts in the Air Force and didn't get to spend as much time with you as I wished. I'd work four 3-11 shifts, have 24 hours off, work four 11 pm to 7 am shifts, have 24 hours off, work four 7 am to 3 pm shifts and then have 96 hours off. Sounds like it would be nice having different times of the day off but it really wears you out. I was so tired while I was in England. The shift work and the gray skies made it a challenge. I'd go for days without seeing the sun, especially during the winter.
In the winter in England, the sun would set at 4 or 4:30 and if you are at work until 3:30 in a building with no windows, you don't really get to see the sun. And since it rains so much in England even if you are off during the day you may not see the sun. Maybe living in England for the first 2 years of your life is the reason you like rainy days.
But I'd really like to go back for a visit. If they had more sun, I'd enjoy living there. I was cold for the three years we lived there. But like I said, I'd really love to go back for a visit. I'd like to go with you and show you the places we lived, the places we visited, the places of your infancy.
Going back now, I can do the things we couldn't do when we lived there. We were so poor. Military folks don't make much money and back then was no different. Trying to support a family of 3 on my Air Force salary was a struggle. In true military fashion, the lower ranking folks weren't allowed to live on the base. So we had to live off base on the economy and with an exchange rate of over $2 a pound, it was very difficult.
Your father and I got married so young, too young. Your father and I had been dating for a couple of months when I decided that I really didn't want to date him any longer. When I tried to end the relationship, those around us said I was being mean. Of all things, I didn't want to be considered mean. So, instead we got married. I was under the false impression that once we got married, it would be picket fences and roses. In 1981, I still thought of marriage as a fairy tale.
Your father is a nice person and I won't say anything about him that isn't true. I'm not passing judgment, just telling it how it was. We both were too young to be married. Then after your dad was forced out of the Air Force, it made things extremely difficult. In England he couldn't work off base and the only jobs on base were low paying. Most military spouses are women and even more so back then.
We both made mistakes. He often wasn't there when I needed him. The first Christmas after you were born, he left me at home with you and went to the base with his friends. I had yet to learn to stand up for myself and say what I felt. I wanted him to stay home with me and you. I should have told him that but I felt like he shouldn't have even considered going. I think that's when my dislike of Christmas began.
It must have been right after that Christmas that you spoke your first word. You were in your walker (back then walkers weren't considered bad) and you rushed over to me and said "Mama." I was the happiest person alive at that moment and I can still see and hear it even today. You were wearing a yellow jumpsuit.
One of the hardest things was trying to take care of you after working the night shift. Your dad would leave you with me during the day while he went to work or wherever. When you were really young, you stayed in your crib and it was okay. But once you started walking (9 months! You did everything early!) it was tough.
Once I woke up to see you perched on the window ledge. We were upstairs in the bedroom and you managed to open the window (it was the kind with a crank) and climb up in it. You were probably around twelve months at the time. After that, I would stay downstairs with you. One of the scariest moments of my life.
We lived in three different houses while in England. No one wanted to renew our lease. I can't blame them. If I was the landlord of your dad and I back then, I wouldn't have renewed either. The house was a mess, the yard was never tended, and we couldn't manage to pay the rent on time.
So in retrospect, living in England was one of the best times of my life and also one of the darkest, literally and figuratively. Going back would allow me to make new memories with you and allow me to visit England properly.
I didn't intend for this to be such a depressing letter but somehow that's what turned up in my memory. We can't change the past but we shouldn't forget it either. I wish I had been in the position to give you a childhood with white picket fences and tree-lined streets. But military families don't always have those options. And then as a single parent of three boys, I was lucky if we had a place to sleep. While you three boys were growing up, I was doing the same.
Next week I'll tell you happier stories.
Love, Mom
Sunday, August 14, 2011
The Beginning
Dear Michael,
The day you were born is somewhat of a blur. I have vivid memories of waking up at two in the morning with a pain I'd never felt before. I knew this wasn't false labor anymore. It was July 15, 1982. More than two weeks after your due date. I was ready or so I thought.
The military hospital where you would be born that day was two hours away from where we lived. I took the shuttle to the hospital later that morning. No one seemed to think I was in labor or that it was an emergency. That's usually they way it is with the first. Interesting that they didn't seem concerned that I was way past my due date. You'd think they would have the notion that I had to have the baby at some point. People really can't stay pregnant forever. That's not such a good thing.
I got to the hospital sometime in the morning and went to the clinic. They told me to wait. Since I'd slept some in the van on the way to the hospital, they really didn't think I was in labor. However, one receptionist saw how much pain I was in and called the maternity ward. She sent me "upstairs."
At this point, the contractions were strong. I was told to wait, again. Since your Dad couldn't come up on the shuttle with me, I was alone. I roamed the waiting area looking for positions to help the pain, at one point almost standing on my head. Other folks would wander in, see me, and leave. I guess they decided to find a different waiting area. I'm sure I looked like some kind of crazy woman.
Eventually, I was taken to a room and hooked to a monitor. The day gets hazy at that point as they were giving me something for pain. I'm not sure what and I didn't know it at the time. I was in a lot of pain so I can't imagine what it would have been like without anything. I'd asked for natural childbirth and don't recall agreeing to anything but when a woman is in labor, she knows not what she does. And when a woman is in the military and in a military hospital, she doesn't always get what she wants.
At some point, your Dad arrived. I don't know when but I think it was sometime later in the morning or early afternoon. If you ever have children and are in the labor room, don't wear any rings. Having a woman squeeze your hand when you are wearing a ring is not so much fun. Around six in the evening, I finally went to the delivery room. You weren't so interesting in leaving your warm home so they had to give me something to help things along. This was done via my IV. The doctor was not happy that I was interrupting his evening. He had plans of some sort. He'd come in, turn up the drip on the IV to fast mode then the nurses would turn it back down when he left. Whatever was in the drip was designed to make my contractions stronger. The doctor wasn't too concerned about me.
Finally at 8:57 p.m., after 3 hours in the delivery room, you made your entrance. From the first time the nurses could see you, they knew you had a head full of dark hair. They were so right. You had a beautiful head of hair and a cute round face. I couldn't believe how beautiful you were (and still are today).
After you were born, all I wanted to do was hold you. I couldn't believe you were actually born and you were mine. When we first went home, I kept you in a basket right beside my bed. I didn't want to put you all the way in the other room. Any time you cried, I picked you up. I didn't want to see you cry.
And how beautiful you were. Big brown eyes, lots of dark hair, and the cutest little red nose. You actually had a strawberry birthmark on your nose when you were born. Everyone thought it was cold outside because your nose was red. However, we did not nickname you Rudolph. You were and always have been, Michael. My Michael. My first born. I love you more than you'll ever know.
Love, Mom
The day you were born is somewhat of a blur. I have vivid memories of waking up at two in the morning with a pain I'd never felt before. I knew this wasn't false labor anymore. It was July 15, 1982. More than two weeks after your due date. I was ready or so I thought.
The military hospital where you would be born that day was two hours away from where we lived. I took the shuttle to the hospital later that morning. No one seemed to think I was in labor or that it was an emergency. That's usually they way it is with the first. Interesting that they didn't seem concerned that I was way past my due date. You'd think they would have the notion that I had to have the baby at some point. People really can't stay pregnant forever. That's not such a good thing.
I got to the hospital sometime in the morning and went to the clinic. They told me to wait. Since I'd slept some in the van on the way to the hospital, they really didn't think I was in labor. However, one receptionist saw how much pain I was in and called the maternity ward. She sent me "upstairs."
At this point, the contractions were strong. I was told to wait, again. Since your Dad couldn't come up on the shuttle with me, I was alone. I roamed the waiting area looking for positions to help the pain, at one point almost standing on my head. Other folks would wander in, see me, and leave. I guess they decided to find a different waiting area. I'm sure I looked like some kind of crazy woman.
Eventually, I was taken to a room and hooked to a monitor. The day gets hazy at that point as they were giving me something for pain. I'm not sure what and I didn't know it at the time. I was in a lot of pain so I can't imagine what it would have been like without anything. I'd asked for natural childbirth and don't recall agreeing to anything but when a woman is in labor, she knows not what she does. And when a woman is in the military and in a military hospital, she doesn't always get what she wants.
At some point, your Dad arrived. I don't know when but I think it was sometime later in the morning or early afternoon. If you ever have children and are in the labor room, don't wear any rings. Having a woman squeeze your hand when you are wearing a ring is not so much fun. Around six in the evening, I finally went to the delivery room. You weren't so interesting in leaving your warm home so they had to give me something to help things along. This was done via my IV. The doctor was not happy that I was interrupting his evening. He had plans of some sort. He'd come in, turn up the drip on the IV to fast mode then the nurses would turn it back down when he left. Whatever was in the drip was designed to make my contractions stronger. The doctor wasn't too concerned about me.
Finally at 8:57 p.m., after 3 hours in the delivery room, you made your entrance. From the first time the nurses could see you, they knew you had a head full of dark hair. They were so right. You had a beautiful head of hair and a cute round face. I couldn't believe how beautiful you were (and still are today).
After you were born, all I wanted to do was hold you. I couldn't believe you were actually born and you were mine. When we first went home, I kept you in a basket right beside my bed. I didn't want to put you all the way in the other room. Any time you cried, I picked you up. I didn't want to see you cry.
Love, Mom
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