Blurb

In a crisis torn, South American country, only little Ann's faith, her determination, and one young woman could help keep her dreams of escape alive.

A true story...
Find a synopsis and other details about Sunday’s Child at my confidence blog (linked). Read excerpts here: List of Books on Amazon
___________________________________________

The Labour Of Love


Yesterday I was talking to a lady on a film set. When I told her that it was my son's eleventh birthday, she said, 'Happy Birthing Day' to me. I didn't quite understand what she meant at first, but then I thought about it and realised that even though her greeting sounded strange, it actually made lots of sense.

We give our children presents on their birthdays and make a fuss of them because it was the day they were born. This is a passive element of birth. After all, the only thing they did was emerge from the womb and kicked up a fuss. Years after that, all they did was demand food, take up all our attention and cost us money. But we love them endlessly and without reserve.

On the other hand, the 'birthday' of a child requires much more from a mother. She labours in agony as her body twists and writhes in pain. She pushes what feels like her guts out for hours on end to bring forth her baby into the world. For her troubles, her body changes for the worse from that day forward and deteriorates progressively with every successive baby. Yet, every year on this anniversary, she gets none of the credit. Maybe we should rethink this whole birthday thing. Maybe it's us mums who should be told, 'Happy Birthing day' and have a cake baked for us.

Yesterday, eleven years ago, my body went through trauma giving birth to a beautiful baby boy. The birth was so painful, I vowed never to have another child. Ever! This baby boy is now a massive eleven year old, 5' 3" tall, with the brain of an eight year old. We love him to bits. He was thrilled to have presents and attention on his birthday. He didn't get a Kelley Blue Book. He's too young for this, after all (Perhaps in about 8 years). And his mum, the one who got saddled with all this labour of love, stood on the sidelines ignored, cheering him on.

And, in case you're wondering. We did have another child after him. :-)

10 comments:

•°°• IcyBC •°°• said...

Happy belated birthday to your son, Anne.

I understood completely what you're saying. It was the mother that should be recognized too. A friend of mine gave me a present on my son's birthday, with the same sentiment, and left me speechless..So our sons are both 11!

Anne Lyken-Garner said...

This is new to me, Icy. It took a second to soak in, but it makes perfect sense.

Self Sagacity said...

Well Anne, you said that very gracefully. The births of my children took a toll on my body, but as you said, mother's love is endless and we proudly stand on the side to cheer -on our children without hesitation.
Happy Birthday mom and son.;-)

Anne Lyken-Garner said...

Thanks, Amanda

Anonymous said...

Happy belated birthday to your son.

I never thought about it before, but you're right. Mothers should get some recognition on the birthdays of their children.

Glynis Peters said...

A lovely idea Anne. I hope your son had a wonderful day.

Loree said...

Yes that's the way it goes but we love them to pieces and don't mind being sidelined because they are so sweet (most of the time) and precious.

Anonymous said...

A belated happy birthday to your son, and may your bond grow even stronger. And you should be acknowledge as well. Now go forth and eat ice cream.

Stephen Tremp

Middle Ditch said...

A belated happy birthday to you Anne. I totally agree. I often thought about this. In Holland it's not happy birthday at all! You wish the person a happy change of year or 'verjaardag'. I like this much more.

myletterstoemily said...

dear anne,

so true! they become more precious
with every year. i can't express what
joy my 26 year old 6'7'' brings me.

you said body of an eleven year old
but mind of an eight year old. i hope
everything is ok.

i'm sorry it is troublesome that i never
capitalize where i should. it is a form
of rebellion, but also it makes me very
happy to capitalize the Lord's name. a
small way for me to show honor.

LinkWithin

Blog Widget by LinkWithin