The Day I Became A Mother

She is celebrating her birthday.  She turns 11 today.  She had a bowling party and a sleepover.  She had her BFF’s there and had lots of fun, got presents and ate her favorite cupcakes.  She dreams of cell phones and computers and cars.  She wants to grow up so fast.

She was supposed to be a New Year’s baby.  And not just any New Year.  The turn of the century. 2000.  She was 10 days late.  I was so big most people thought I was having twins.  I could barely walk.  I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t breath.  It was my first pregnancy.

She is beautiful.  She is smart.  She has lots of friends.  She is one of the most kind, caring people I know.  She cries when she sees injured and abandoned animals.  She loves to cook.  She already has a name picked out for her restaurant.

It was still dark when I woke up, not that I was really sleeping at all.  They said I needed to be at the hospital early so they could start the induction.  10 days late and the baby still didn’t want to come.  We were pretty sure it was a boy, although the sonogram wasn’t confirming that.  We had a boy name picked out.  We arrived at the hospital, my husband, my mother and I.

I look at her and I see myself.  Only she is better.  She is still a little girl but wants so much to be a teenager.  She acts grown up around her friends.  In private, she is still my baby.  She likes to cuddle up with me.  She likes to sit and talk with me.  I’m lucky she still wants me at all.  I know that will change.

The pitocin works well.  Too well.  The baby is coming fast.  I’m not ready yet.  It’s 10 days late but it’s too soon.  The baby is coming.  The doctor is ready.  I’m pushing but I can’t feel anything.  The epidural made sure of that.  The baby is out.  It isn’t a boy.  It’s a girl.  It can’t be.  We weren’t planning for a girl.  My mother cries.  I cry.  I have a baby girl.

She fights with her sisters.  She hates being the oldest.  All the responsibility.  I was the oldest of three also.  I hated it too.  She wishes she were an only child.  She wishes she still just had mommy and daddy to herself.  She loves her sisters, but she also feels alone and left out sometimes.


We named her Temera after David’s mother who died of cancer way too young.  I never met her.  There really wasn’t any other name we could choose.  It was the right name.  Little Temy came into the world  January 10, 2000.  It was the day I became a mother.

I look at my 11 year old daughter and marvel at how she turned out.  I couldn’t ask for a better daughter.  Or a better friend.  She’ll never know how much she means to me.  I love all my daughters the same… but Temera is different.  Temera made me a mother.


Happy Birthday my sweet baby girl.  Mommy loves you.

On the cruise ship.

Snuggling with Amanda.

In the middle of the pineapple field on Maui.

Climbing out of the crater outside of Barstow.

My baby.