My son was born 13 years ago today, candy apple red 10 pound baby who, lying on my stomach, lifted his head and looked me straight in the eye only seconds after birth, still connected by the cord but connected forever after. He had been dipped in blood I hadn't seem the pooling of my life on the floor or yet noticed that I was too week to lift my arms. But that is for another time. Next year we are going to celebrate from 25 November until 19 December since that's when the contractions started. That way he, and everyone else may appreciate the process of bringing someone so special into the world, and he really is.
I am 45 years old. If you didn't know me and met me on the street I cannot imagine you would guess that. My 21 year old boyfriend sure didn't! He thought I was in my 30's, and so he convinced me he was in his late 20's to make it work, which it didn't. But more on that later. Right now I am hoping he leaves quietly for Thailand and avoids me.
I've been there and back but I can easily say that I do not regret for a second the sacrifices I have made in my life not just for Anders, but for all 3 of my children. Maybe that is a bit of a cop-out, but I am still making the same type of choices every day. It is all the same. A job offer to work for old friend in her international multi-million dollar clothing company.... well, had a meeting with the school headmaster about my child. All of my children have been through a lot. The kidnapping was big, the change in finacial circumstances immense as well, but my oldest son, Anders' realization that his father was a "paedo" (his words) has been the cancer that has infected my soul. It goes to the heart of all of my mistakes, which I cannot ever undo, but I will certainly die trying. x x TaraRuns
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