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Growing Up With My Son

I sometimes laugh and say that he raised me as much as I raised him.

By Rebecca Lynn IveyPublished 3 years ago 5 min read
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I was eighteen years old when I gave birth to my first son. In many ways, I was still a child myself when he came into my life.

I was an only child and my father was extremely strict with me. I wasn't allowed to have friends visit me at home and I wasn't allowed to go to sleepovers. No football games or any type of after-school event; or anything else that required me to be out of his range of sight. The only real friend that I had outside of school was my old tomcat named Slyvester.

I was a daddy's girl though, I loved that man more than anything in the entire world. When he looked at me, the twinkle in his eye suggested that I was his pride and joy. I knew that he loved me, he gave me everything that I wanted, if at all possible.

I met my husband when I was Seventeen. Well, we had grown up as neighbors so I had known him pretty much my entire life, I just hadn't been allowed to speak to him before then. Did I mention that absolutely no boys whatsoever was at the very top of my daddy's list?

Let me tell you, the night that we were married my daddy sit on the front porch with a shotgun all night long. He wasn't a happy man, I had broken his heart.

I was eager to get my life started, up until this point I had felt like a prisoner. I was shocked to see how much that I truly did not know about the real world. I had been sheltered from every possible negativity in life. Being able to speak to people was my biggest hurdle. I couldn't even pay a bill without getting terribly nervous and upset.

When I was eighteen I learned that I was an expecting mother. It didn't come as a huge surprise because I had done very little to prevent it. I did everything by the book during my pregnancy, I even stopped drinking soda and coffee. The doctor had mentioned that caffeine wasn't particularly good for the baby. Oh, the headaches that I suffered from caffeine withdrawal were absolutely odious. I took my prenatal vitamins religiously and suffered from intense morning sickness for the entire nine months.

On March 29th my baby boy decided it was time and right on time he was. In fact, it was the exact day that my doctor had estimated as my due date. As soon as the labor pains began I started walking. My husband and I walked all around the neighborhood that evening and continued into the late night. Around midnight I began feeling like something wasn't feeling quite right. The pain had moved from my abdomen, into my back, and all down my legs. I was getting dizzy and had even passed out in my mother's living room. It was time to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.

Within minutes we discovered that the baby's umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck and my placenta was pulling loose. My blood pressure was spiking to dangerously high numbers and I was continuously losing consciousness. I was rushed in for an emergency c-section and the crash cart was being rushed in right beside of me. I knew full well that the situation was dire. As they administered the anesthesia I looked the doctor firmly in the eyes and asked him to save my baby first. He held my hand as I faded out, I made him promise me that the baby came first no matter what. Have you ever seen your doctor cry? I did, it was the last thing that I saw before going under.

When I woke up I looked around the strange room. I couldn't speak because the breathing tubes were still in place. I began waving my hands frantically. The nurse came and I can still remember that terrible feeling as they pulled the tube out. "Where's my baby!" those were my first words. "He's fine." that's all that I can remember her saying. A few hours later I found out that he wasn't entirely fine. He was under an oxygen tent and barely weighed 5 pounds. They were discussing transporting him to another hospital.

Once I finally held him in my arms I refused to let him go. There was an instant bond between us. Something more powerful than anything else in the whole universe. I refused to allow the nurses to take him back to the nursery. I placed his crib next to my bed as close as possible. When he whimpered I was raised up in bed tending to him. The pain in my body was irrelevant, it meant nothing to me. The only thing in the world that mattered was that little, tiny baby.

As he grew so did I. For everything that I taught him, he taught me twice as much. He was my best friend, my son, and my whole entire world. I suddenly realized why my daddy had been so strict on me, although I swore to never be so hard on my own child. We laughed together and we played together. We even enjoyed the same music and styles. There has been absolutely nothing that we haven't shared together.

I cried until my eyes were sore on his first day of school. I cried just as much the day that he graduated Middle School. After his High School graduation, we held each other and we both cried. That little boy is now a grown man and he is still my very best friend.

He taught me so much, I sometimes laugh and say that he raised me as much as I raised him. It's true, we grew up together, we learned together and we faced many challenges together. During my darkest moments, he is standing right beside me.

He taught me how to stand my ground and look people directly in the eye. He taught me how to defend myself and to fight for what's important. More than anything he opened my heart to so much love and happiness. I never knew how strong that I could be until he showed me. My son has held my head while I was sick. He has dried my tears when I was sad. He has never allowed me to throw in the towel and give up. He's been my biggest supporter and my rock.

Yes, I gave birth to my best friend in the whole entire world. I gave birth to a child that would show me just how wonderful and beautiful that life can be. In so many ways he saved me. I can't even imagine a world where he dosent exist.

Thank you, my son, for raising me. For teaching me. For helping me to grow and overcome. For being my very best friend.

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About the Creator

Rebecca Lynn Ivey

I wield words to weave tales across genres, but my heart belongs to the shadows.

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