This memorable woman has already come a long way and is already 85 years old. Her skin and her character hide it very well, but yes, they are not noticeable to her very much. She is a great woman going through stages with gallantry.
She is the firm ground where I have always trodden; she taught me half of who I am, and gave me the freedom and confidence to learn the other half... Her guide never weighed in because she managed to make it easy for me to do well what she expected me to do well.
Me, your daughter, the eldest of seven children.
I remember you a lot, Mom. I remember everything about you, Mom, even the color you painted your nails, soft, pearly pink. Furthermore, I remember you, I miss you.
How I wish you were still around. I would take you to my concerts, and we would invite each other for a snack anywhere.
I'm closer to you now. You were there almost at the age of 40, I was a memorable little girl, giving birth to my first daughter.
In the 70s decade...
That August dawn, it will be 41 years since my beloved first daughter was born. Giving birth to him cost me "one egg and the other's yolk", he-he, with this popular phrase that my mom used to say at the time.
I prepared myself for a birth with Love, without violence, with tai chi, relaxation, Sufi meditation, teachings of M. Odent, F. Leboyer, Steiner (precursors of water births), visualizations, free camping on the beach, sunsets, everything, and I thought, it would be "sewing and singing".
But no, it was like a total explosion and pain, puff. What it took for me to give birth to my first daughter, I'm a soul human flesh and bones.
She came that same evening, the midwife, the village wise woman, who worked with my doctor, who followed my pregnancy and was with us too. We didn't know each other at all, the midwife and I, but it was enough that my mother knew her, and my doctor who told me that this midwife, had all the experience, was also a professional nurse.
I remember that that afternoon I started cleaning and preparing as if for a party, my partner to shots of whiskey (to hide his nerves and that).
When the time came, she, my daughter, who was almost there, was pointing out the contractions that came and went; I did not know how to dose my energies and collect myself inside myself and at dawn I was already very tired. And I went to bed.
The midwife was watching to see how she was dilating and stuff. Total, that when I fell asleep, she took me out to the ring, to that mattress with cushions that we had prepared; she said that those contractions had to be taken advantage of, and we have to squeeze.
I was squatting, lying down, sitting, lying down... and give it that, blow that blows, more and more, and it wasn't enough, the water (fountain) hadn't broken, and she (the midwife) broke it, when she touched me, my daughter was almost there, wanting to see the light and nothing, she didn't want to go out, I say...
Then the midwife said to me, come on, the girl is already suffering! Hurry up and boom!, I went into full machine plan, breathe-push, breathe-push... because I couldn't allow that, while she was massaging my perineum with olive oil so that it wouldn't tear, and finally, my little girl came out.
Into my arms.
At dawn, in an experience of Light for me, my firstborn, my beloved daughter, was born. I think I have never felt more calm, confident and serenely focused on myself, than that time I was in the process of giving birth at home, with the help of my midwife, and next to my husband and my mother, my adventure partner.
She, my baby girl, didn't cry, she was very calm, she just looked at me, she fixed her gaze on me.
The midwife then confessed to me that what she told me, she did it just to spur me on and get me into action for the birth, the long-awaited birth. If I ended up in the hospital, it would have been a cesarean section. Bless you wise woman and forgive me for not remembering your name, midwife of the town.
My beloved mother was always there, by my side, just like my husband.
After this memorable experience, I had two more children in the hospital. The years have passed mom I also got older, like you, now I think we would understand each other much more and better.
I love you very much, Mom. I will never forget you.
Thank you very much, I thoroughly enjoyed writing this memorable moments, as my mom's daughter and mom of my first daughter, to this proposal of questions for the 179th contest, from this week's Ladies Of hive @meri.ahama
Janitze.
Separator made with Canva by @janitzearratia
Any images in this post are taken with my iPhone 12, the Infinix pro-note 30 or with the camera eighties Rolleiflex 2.8 f, and edited with Canva
Translation with |DeepL