Motherhood is a wonderful experience,
filled with joys and sorrows, frustrations and fulfillment.
For many the desires for motherhood started from childhood
with little girls playing with their dolls. Others have
motherhood thrust on them, but after accepting it—find it
was one of the best parts of their life. The bond for some
mothers starts the moment they feel their baby move inside
them, for others it may be the moment their baby is placed
in their arms for the first time, and others it may take a
while till the overwhelming feeling of this new
responsibility passes and they start to build a
relationship with this child who is totally reliant on
them.
But
motherhood is not just restricted to the mothers who give
birth. The bond with an adopted child can be just as
strong. A mother who adopts a child has usually been
through many different means to try to have one the natural
way. When that doesn’t succeed, her desire to share that
love moves her to seek out a child she can bond with. Many
adoptive mothers say that same bond comes the day that
dream is realized and the baby is placed in their
arms.
Then
there are the stories—and with children they never stop.
The changes they make, the cute things they do or say. The
progress they make and the mannerisms that they take on,
both bad and good—that are just like you. For a while the
parents may look as the children as extension of
themselves. But soon they realize they each child emerges
with their own personality. Learning their personality and
watching it develop is one of the joys of parenthood. Being
a part of training and helping that child develop is the
reward you are given as a parent. When the child is an
adult, they may not be what you pictured, but in the end,
the good you see in them is a reflection of you. Through
those years you may have had to go through some heartache
and gray hairs, but if it ends in a good person, many
parents feel it was well worth it.
This
section is all about the joys and experiences of
parenthood. It is a place to share your stories as a
parent. We also offer you different means to create your
stories with your baby pictures and keep a recorded record
of all those changes your child makes as they grow to
adulthood.
We help
save your children's memories on video. See how
Kaden The Crocodile
Hunter
Some
children naturally know how to tell a good
story
We live in
Alabama on the Alabama/Georgia line. We go by Georgia/EST time
though. The kids got new alarm clocks for Christmas. My
youngest son is 7 and has a time with hisalarm clock. My alarm
goes off at 5:30 a.m. right after I would hit snooze I would
hear his clock go off and he lets it beeeeeep till it stops. He
doesn't have to get up till 7a. I told him yesterday that he
needed to fix his clock because it was going off way too early.
He said well, I have it set to Alabama time. I said, we don't
go by Alabama time. I let it go. Later I reminded him that he
needed to fix the time on his clock so it would not be going
off so early, again he tells me he has it set to Alabama time.
This time I was like.clocks don't give you the option to set
your clocks to Alabama time so I told him to bring me his
clock. He had his clock set an hour ahead and his alarm an hour
behind and the reason he thought it was Alabama time was
because when you press the button to set the alarm, it has an
AL at the bottom, lol.. He thought that meant Alabama
time..tooo funny!!
When our
youngest was about 4, we were always counting and naming
colors.
I always
used the blue toilet cleaners that turned the water blue.One
day after going potty, he come running out of the bathroom
shouting," Momma,yellow and blue make green!" He took me into
the bathroom and showed me his new color. LOL Yes, son, yellow
and blue make green. Good job! Susan Chronister Spring Valley,
IL
Sparkling Diamonds
Almost
everyone can appreciate the beauty of a full moon. I live on
the coast of Florida and one night when my sister was visiting
with her family, we went out onto the deck to enjoy the ocean.
The night sky was completely lit up by the full moon. I asked
my 4 year old nephew what he saw. The pint-sized poet answered,
"It looks like sparkling diamonds dancing happily on the
water!" My sister and I just smiled at each other as she
repeated, "Happily!"
Contribute your own songs. Okay, if you play the video
above, its not the greatest voice, its mine! But it does tell a
story. It was a song my mom sang to me that we loved and I have
passed it down to other children, and the parents say they
never heard of it.
This got me to thinking about children's songs.
What songs did you grow up with or do you sing to your own
children or grandchildren?
Our
Children
This third
pregnancy is different, problem free - finally, I'm to be a
mother. But at 27 weeks, my child literally falls into the
world without warning. His twin follows: mewing. They are
perfect miniatures of their father, but so tiny. When a head
rests on my fingertips, a foot only just tips my
watchstrap.
I cradle my
sons: one alive, one dead - one pink, one blue. The tune "Pink
and blue will never ever do." hop-scotches, fogging my head. Is
it possible that the sun still sets and the traffic still
moves? Time marches, suspended in
nothingness.
I stare at
the hospital admission form. The red words 'spontaneous
abortion' jump out, strangling me. Abortion? It sounds like I'm
to blame. From afar I hear the admissions clerk: "Do you
smoke?" "No." "Do you drink?" "Not for the past seven months"
"Are you pregnant?" I bite my lip. Did I miss something? Am I
going mad?
Mydoctorfills the room. I think his stubby fingers
are more suited to motor mechanics than medicine. I tell him
so. His mouth moves - words slice my brain: "incubator'..
"deformed" . "retarded". He cuts the umbilical cords and I hold
my children as the youngest takes his last breath and joins his
brother. Silence shrieks and, like mis-coloured chessmen
removed from the board, my sons lie discarded in a kidney
bowl.
I nightmare
until the morning sun lumbers over the mountains, but still
nothing seems real. "I want to see my babies," I tell a hurried
uniform. Eventually another appears: "Your babies were burnt
last night." "Burnt? Burnt?" The world is swathed in bandages
of unreality. Those brutal words slam me. I wheel my drip down
a never-ending passage to the maternity ward, my arms an ocean
of emptiness. I have to hold a baby. I'm jolted by a newborn's
cry. Are you nuts? Get a grip, Clare, you cannot ask some new
mother you don't even know to hold her baby.
Days and
weeks, friends and family all kaleidoscope into a blur. I look
normal (or so I'm told). But my arms still ache to hold the
babies they never will, my breasts leak and my dead children
still phantom kick, inflaming false hope. Despair descends -
I'll never be a mother.
On what was
to be mydue dateI don't want to answer the telephone, I want to
die, but: "Life goes on." A voice introduces herself as "Lindy.
someone you haven't met." I don't know it, but an earth angel
has arrived. "I've heard about your boys and I'm sorry. I had
twin girls today and I'd like to share them with you." It
didn't put her off that in my befuddled,
furious-at-the-world-state, I could have been yelling-angry; I
could have slammed the phone down. But her loving intentions
pierced my pain-riddled pit.
She never
minded my tears falling on their faces as I bathed 'our'
babies, changed their nappies, smiled at their gurgles and
kissed their tiny fingers and toes, remembering other hands and
feet - lost. Sometimes, I just sat and filled my empty arms
with their soft warmth. I become their heart mother. Unasked,
Lindy's generosity of spirit meant she shared her most
previous, her children, with me, a stranger.
But looking
back now, it's as if she intuited something I didn't know -
that her family needed me too. The day the twins turned five,
fate corkscrewed everything - acar accidentupside-downed our
worlds. Now, Lindy is an angel mother in heaven to 'our' boys
and I, Clare. I'm an earth mother to 'our' girls. Contributed by Cari
Corbet-Owen Copyright: http://www.ditch-diets-live-light.com
MyBaby
and Me
Some things
were just meant to be Like love...mybaby and
me Rough roads to endure Keep faith...I’ll be
sure All for mybaby and me
copyright 2008
One
Race
Black with
white or yellow or brown do not fear who's eyes shall
frown for in our hearts we blind shall
know that Christian's blood will
forever flow to make more children of his
kind and make this world soon color
blind. So, kiss his precious little
face and bless his genes
towards the human race!
I have a
little girl named Emma Grace who just turned 5 years old. last
summer when I was tucking her in, I asked her if she has
anything special she'd like to pray about. She said " Dear
Jesus, I pray that you keep the TV safe, and I pray for no
commercials". I will NEVER forget her saying that. It was
hysterical. Angie Neal Jax, FL
Don't you
know Mom?
My Son
Brian, who is now 35 was up in his room "cleaning." I had gone
up to the room many times to see the progress of the
clean-up-job. Each time I went to the room I would see that
nothing had been done. This last time however I went to see
that the door had been closed.
I thought he
must have decided to take a nap for all of the "thinking" about
cleaning he was doing. So I opened the door very slowly. Out of
the corner I saw something go past my face. Then it registered
that it was GI Joe holding onto something as he was sliding
down the string across my vision. I believed that I must have
released him from his station on the other side of the door
where he was stationed to go for his ride. I followed the
string to across the room and it looked like it was set to go
through the this makeshift house. As I watched GI Joe
hang-glide past my face through the door of the house and crash
at the back of the house I now realized it was part of "the
plan" and Lord knows how long this child was perched behind
this door waiting for me to come and release GI Joe for his
trip across the room. As I stood there trying to register what
really happened, my eye's began to scan for the child that
thought about all of this. Where was he?
He was on
the floor looking into the house from a trap door on the side
to see GI Joe do his crashing at the back of the house, of
course. At this point we were now looking eye to eye. I
wondered what he could say to my as to why he hadn't cleaned
his room. But Brian said with the perkiest voice he could drum
up... "Don't you know Mom, I'm an inventor!" As I nodded my
head yes, saying nothing, I closed the door, went down stairs
to his Step-Father and said three words. He's all
yours!
Deborah
White Peoria,
Illinois
Spit
It Out
Boy did one
of my children have a story to tell. When my oldest was 4 yrs
old. She came downstairs to tell a story. She is like me... A
long story is very long, and a short story is too
long.
She was
telling her story and going in circles... She started to umm,
and, umm. It was cute. She was trying to make it
longer....
I said,
"Renae spit it out"
She spit it
out alright. All you heard was pfft pfft thfft. She was trying
to spit. We still crack up to this
day.
Jennifer
Reed Sacramento,
CA
Good
Old Days
Harris is 5
years old and LOVES baseball. He had watched his older brother
play for years and last year he was finally old enough to play
t-ball. The Kansas winter was long and Harris could hardly wait
for baseball season to roll around again. As Springtime came,
Harris was counting down the days until he could play ball
again. As his Dad drove him to the first practice, Harris said,
"You know Dad- these are the good old days!" Roxanne
Pennington Jupiter, FL
If you would
like to submit a story, a picture,
poem or a video
link of a personal experience in Baby and Children
Stories, email it toStory@tearsofjoyvideo.com Please include your
name, city and state with your submission. Picture
submissions should include a small discriptive
caption. Video submissions should be links to sites
like youtube which will allow us to access the embedded
code for our site.