Suddenly I see... me with a baby in my arms

So my baby finally came home. My teeny tiny boy (hereafter known as JC) was all ours at last. No more Dr's and nurses poking, prodding and controlling our existence. We still had to see them sometimes so they could monitor his progress. Being born so small meant he was likely not to keep up with his peers even age adjusted. We had perhaps more visits with the Health centre than usual and visits to a peadiatrician and peadiatric surgeon but otherwise all was good in our world. JC was growing very slowly, he was a gorgeous child with a lovely nature. I enjoyed being a mother, I was where I wanted to be.



Not long after Christmas I started getting pains and realized I was having a miscarriage. I hadn't even realized I was pregnant. I had done my best to express breast milk for JC during the whole time he was in hospital and though it had waned no-one suggested anything but stress causing it and I'd been told not to expect a period for six months or more so there had been no signs to indicate I was. I had not even thought maybe I was and ignored it. So our New year began with our first miscarriage. Another boy, around 18 weeks gestation. I cried, I felt sadness that I had a child I would never know but it was not a major issue. Miscarriages are common and I was not yet 19. There was plenty of time for more children. We went on with our lives.

Eventually JC managed to sit up and slowly crawling came to him. He found crawling straight legged was far more comfortable than sore knees and I can still see him in my mind, legs sticking out to the side, bum in the air and on a mission ! Christmas of 1982 JC was given a ride on train as a gift. Trains were of great interest to JC - he loved to watch them and we were thrilled when he took his first steps towards his train. Finally at 16 months he was walking. This opened up a new world for JC, he quickly became independent in his movement and far preferred to walk than be pushed in the pram or carried. This is a time period where I have many memories of him. He learned to play cricket using a wooden spoon and a tennis ball. He could give that ball a huge whack sending it down the hallway while giggling happily. If there was mischief to be found it was JC who did the finding. I can recall the day I went into his bedroom when I heard he was awake after his nap. He must have been nearly 2. I opened the door and there was an empty cot. Well I did a quick (panicked) search of his bedroom and just as I was about to start screaming I heard a little giggle. The cot sat beneath the window which had a deep sill and a venetian blind. I realized what my little monkey had done so I went outside to wave to him. There he was, standing behind the venetian blind looking out at the world and waving as hard as he could to me, laughing uproariously. It was the best joke, he thought, and from then on it was a regular thing for him to "trick" mummy by hiding.

JC was also very good at climbing. I would regularly find him sitting on the top of the tele which put him at around 5 foot off the ground, or sitting in the kitchen sink looking out the window.He never used a chair to get there, just grabbed the bench or whatever and hoisted himself up - had good upper body strength. One of his favourite things to do was to walk to the shops nearby. He'd climb onto any fence he could and walk along it preferably not holding my hand... Once there we'd have to visit each of the shopkeepers. This was a ritual we completed daily and he never tried to start at the supermarket, we always had to walk past all the shops to the end which was the newsagents and only then could we start the greeting. The Newsagents - he would go around behind the counter and give the girl there a cuddle. The butcher's, he'd head behind the counter, pick up a handful of sawdust and sprinkle it back on the ground then wash his hands in the basin, wiping them on the butcher's apron. After that it was the milk bar and a quick kiss for the lady there with perhaps a lolly as a reward. Finally it was the little supermarket and a kiss to the girl at the fruit & vege counter would get him a banana. There wasn't a person in the shopping centre who didn't know JC and I don't think there was one who didn't love him too. We weren't allowed to skip this ritual in the winter even if it rained. We'd then head to the shops with me carrying him and we'd sing "It's raining, it's pouring" well, I'd sing but he would always ask for the song in his own language. Like many boys JC's language skills weren't very developed yet but he could communicate and he had his favourite words. Mummy and flower were amongst them and every flower we saw was examined in detail along with many exclamations of "oohhh flower". Animals of course were up there as well and many a cat and dog had their eyes examined or their mouths checked by JC. Andrew's parents had a German shepherd. He was a beautiful, solid dog with a wonderful temperament. JC could do anything to that dog and usually did. All the dog would do was look at MIL as if to say "can I go now?" If she said anything to him,he'd stand up and leave, if she didn't he'd just lie there and take whatever JC was dishing out. One afternoon when MIL was caring for JC they walked out into the backyard and JC saw the dog standing there. He ran full pelt at the dog and as he ran into him the dog simply lay down on the ground and let JC lie on top of him. One rule at MIL's was JC was not to play in the dog's water. That never stopped him. I have the most gorgeous photo of JC with his hands behind his back because MIL caught him playing in the water and he was trying to hide the evidence of wet sleeves. These were halcyon days indeed. During thi year I studied HSC part time at an Adult education centre. JC went to a creche while I attended classes. This gave rise to another of JC"s rituals. When I arrived back to pick him up he often wouldn't notice me, he was too busy having fun. So I would quietly wait near the window for him to notice I was there. Eventually he would and then he would squeal. The staff all knew what was coming so one would let him out of the room and he would run away from me. All the way to the end of the corrido, then he'd turn to face me, back up against the wall as hard as he could, set himself and then... he'd run full pelt into my open arms squealing "Mummy". It was the most joyous greeting you could ever receive. Then after a big squeezy cuddle he would head back to the other end of the corridor and repeat thisover and over until I said "enough,we have to go" I wish I'd never had to say enough, I wish I could have let him do that until he was ready to stop. I loved picking him up from creche, it was my favourite thing in the world to do. I can still feel his arms around me, so small and so all encompassing.
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