Tales from the Motherside

Interesting tale Lady Crumpet. But isn't it always a mother's story and never the offspring's? Let's face it... a child wouldn't really know what happened and has only the mother's word for the details of that blessed day. A mother is free to embellish or forget - however she feels her birthing deserves to be recalled.

From my own mother I have only surface details. Being her first, she was in no humour to be discomforted in any way. She demanded drugs, a single room, to be put to sleep (as they did in the good old days), ice chips, a coca cola, and once she awake, her make-up case.

Then she asked for her child.

There is a picture of her holding me, looking like a cross between Elizabeth Taylor and Pricilla Presley; with her long dark boufant hair, black eyemakeup and her hot cat on a roof negligie. Yours truly is wrapped up in a pink blanket. A small red angry mouth and tiny x eyes peering up the camera - already at the mercy of this mysterious willful creature, who would by turns frustrate and guilt me out during my life, but always, in her own way, love me.

I think some things are all about the child - but the birthing experience always belongs to the mother. And you are right Lady C. This version I was told is what my mother wanted me to know. What truly happened, how scared and young and unprepared, how helpless and insigficant before nature - is something I will never know about my mother.

Mothers are the original storytellers.