Tales of a Four Time Mommy: The Final Chapter (for now)

Thirteen years ago right this instant, I was in an extremely large room on the maternity wing of Misericordia Hospital alone save fora tiny occupant held lovingly within a small bassinet.The only thought I had running through my head was, "A boy. How am I supposed to raise a boy? How do you teach him to be a  man when you only have a vagina? What about girls? And police? How do you teach a boy to be a man in Philadelphia?"

More Adventures of a Four Time Mommy

On November 10, 2003 at six thirty six am, my mother, Mrs. Fannie Ware Reynolds Paris, lay in a small hospital bed, cradled in my arms. The last tears she would ever shed glistened wetly upon her adored face. She was still and silent with a smile just barely touching the lips that would never again smile at me or kiss my forehead or scold me or praise me. Although her body was still warm to the touch, she wasn't with me. Mommy didn't live here anymore.

Further Adventures of a Four Time Mommy

Sixteen years ago this very minute, I woke from a sound sleep and found myself laying in a hospital bed in a large room looking across at a writhing, screeching thing in a bassinet with confused eyes. What was it, where had it come from and why was I alone with it? Oh yeah! I had just had a baby that day. This was my baby.  All pale and wriggly and fist pumping the air with authority. I knew she was special even with all that shiny stuff the doctor's had put over her eyes to prevent them from becoming infected.

Adventures of a Four Time Mommy

Two years ago this very minute, I lay in the tiniest room U Penn could possibly give someone, holding a gently sleeping bundle across my chest, afraid to put him in the bassinet.  Afraid to let him out of my arms for fear of missing a single second of his first hours.  This was my last child, a boy born from love, strong and little and perfect.  His tiny hand amazed me as he curled it so trustingly around my finger, his toes, so small and perfect, reflexively clenched and unclenched into little balls as he lay, warm and secure against my bare chest gently breathing new air.  Across the room, tucked against a tiny wall were two of those pink upholstered chairs that U Penn kept in it's waiting and visiting rooms and stretched across both was my husband's six foot four inch frame. His arms crossed over his stomach as he attempted something he'd never done for the three other young ones at home.  Sleeping comfortably in a tiny hospital room with his newborn.