It is my son’s 21st Birthday on the 12th of September. It is my granddaughter, his daughter’s, 1st birthday on the 11th September. What do I think of that? Well, I am incredibly proud.
When I mapped out my life, probably when I was about his age, I never imagined I would not stay married to his father for all of my life and that my own child would be a parent before he was 21. In black and white (or on a screen) it doesn’t look good really. I could be classed as a dysfunctional mother with a son that is far too young to be a father. But, I repeat, I am incredibly proud of my son. He has been with the same girl since he was 17, they did use contraception, but a change in the type of pill and confusion over whether it was the pill that caused his girlfriends periods to stop meant that she was 23 weeks pregnant when they knew for sure.
When ‘that’ phone call comes, you just know what is going to be said. Instinct kicks in, your heart starts to pound and if I am blatantly honest, I wanted my own parents. I was too young to cope with being told I was about to be a grandmother, I was too young to teach my own son how to be a father and I was not prepared in any way, shape or form to deal with the emotional highs and lows my child would be sure to experience. I didn’t shout, I didn’t call him a fool, I didn’t castigate him, I just kept saying the words, ‘it will be alright, we will make it work' and even when I doubted it I kept telling him.
When I mapped out my life, probably when I was about his age, I never imagined I would not stay married to his father for all of my life and that my own child would be a parent before he was 21. In black and white (or on a screen) it doesn’t look good really. I could be classed as a dysfunctional mother with a son that is far too young to be a father. But, I repeat, I am incredibly proud of my son. He has been with the same girl since he was 17, they did use contraception, but a change in the type of pill and confusion over whether it was the pill that caused his girlfriends periods to stop meant that she was 23 weeks pregnant when they knew for sure.
When ‘that’ phone call comes, you just know what is going to be said. Instinct kicks in, your heart starts to pound and if I am blatantly honest, I wanted my own parents. I was too young to cope with being told I was about to be a grandmother, I was too young to teach my own son how to be a father and I was not prepared in any way, shape or form to deal with the emotional highs and lows my child would be sure to experience. I didn’t shout, I didn’t call him a fool, I didn’t castigate him, I just kept saying the words, ‘it will be alright, we will make it work' and even when I doubted it I kept telling him.
My son was terrified of the birth; he has a genuine phobia of hospital. On the day his daughter was born he went to the hospital, he sent texts every hour and then it went quiet. My husband went to bed, I stayed up. I paced the kitchen floor. I made cups of tea I didn’t drink. I sat on the doorstep in the dark and silence. I felt scared and I felt very alone. At 12.40a.m. I received a text, it was a picture text of one very crumbled, very pink, very perfect little girl. A few seconds later, my son rang. I could not hear his words and I didn’t understand anything he said. I could only hear huge, gasping sobs and I was desperate to hug him. I asked the questions and he gasped back the answers. He put the phone down and for a few minutes I sat on the doorstep on my own in the black silence and I cried. I cried for her future, I cried for my son’s future and I cried with relief for his girlfriend.
My granddaughter’s mother is a fantastic; she dotes on her baby and my son. My granddaughter is very pretty and obviously the brightest baby in the world!
Nearly a year has gone by. My son changes nappies, he feeds, baths, read to/plays with baby and showers her with love. He went back to University a month after her birth and he carried on his studies for 4 days a week, then he came home and spent time with his child and his girlfriend. In the holidays, he has found work on a local farm, every day he is at work by 7,30a.m returning late in the evening and some days he checks the animals on a Saturday and a Sunday. He NEVER complains, he just gets on and does as he needs to do. Yes, sometimes I regret that he does not have the freedom some of his peers have.
In the past year, I have seen him change dramatically. He is even funnier and even more loving and caring. He works incredibly hard at university, his job and caring for his baby. He interacts with his own family more, he helps in the house and he drives me mad not removing his very muddy boots before he comes into the house, leaving pieces of his car lying about the house and he stuffs the washing machine to the gunnel's and ‘forgets’ to hang it out to dry. He is not perfect, thank goodness, but he is my son. Despite the critics he has had over the past 12 months, he has held his head up, stood by his girlfriend and loved his baby as if his life depended upon it. He enters his final year at University soon, he is doing a degree in Physics, this will be his hardest challenge but you know what? He might just be OK and I just want him to know as he approaches his 21st Birthday that I love him with all my heart.
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