My Mother

As I lay in the bed already recovering. I looked over and saw my mother, but this time with new eyes. This time with the eyes of a newborn mother. I was thinking that she went through all of this same stuff to bring me into the world. I have always loved my mother. That was nothing new or strange. Everyone loves my mother. Looking at my beautiful little baby girl, and at my own mother I had a greater understanding of the meaning of love.
I suddenly knew why mothers do the things that, as children, we think of as silly, ridiculous or even crazy. I suddenly knew why my mother got so upset when I was eleven, and I forgot to come home from a friends house until 9:30. I knew in an instant why, at fourteen, she didn't like the idea of me walking to the high school to watch a soccer game with my friends, and catching a ride back home with some older boys who were really nice, and just wanted to help out. I knew why, at eighteen, she cried when I got on a plain headed for Europe for a month.
For the first time I realized how much my mother really loved me. I was in awe. As we sat there looking at each other, and the new little link in our mother daughter chain, My mother said,"Was it worth it?" The only words that I could speak were, "Just one more time Mama!" She began to cry.
Now I have to explain. This may seem like it makes no sense. Did I mean I only wanted one more child? Did it mean that I could only endure that kind of pain one more time? Was I crazy for the pain, and medication? I will tell what it means.
In my hometown there is a lumbering giant of a water slide. This thing is an enormous outdoor monstrosity. It was called The Aqua Noodle. In order to go down this slide you had to walk up what seemed like an endless mountain of steps. The ride down was very fast, and there was no pool to speak of. So you were either climbing stairs, or going down the slide.
My mother took my brother and me one hot summer day. I couldn't have been more than three. I was very small, and very scared. I didn't want to go, and as usual I was crying, and my brother was embarrassed. I was always such a baby. Climbing the stairs took forever. I was crying and whining the entire way. My legs hurt... my feet were tired... I didn't want to wait in line anymore... I was hot you name it, I was crying about it.
When we finally reached the top I was scared to death. My brother was going by himself. When it was his turn he simply hopped into the tube. The rushing water carried him away so quickly. Before I could blink he was around the first turn. I could hear him screaming, and laughing at the same time. I began to scream, and kick and cry even harder. I wanted to escape, but my mother there by my side assured me that it would be wonderful. So I sat on her lap, took a deep breath, and we were off. It was the best feeling ever. I was twisting and turning, laughing, crying, and screaming. It was out of control in a sublime way. At one point I remember hitting my knee on the tube. It hurt, and I got a bruise from it.
Soon I could see the end of the tunnel. I was scared again, and I didn't want the ride to be over, but there was very little I could do about it at that point. All I could do was hold my breath, and hope for the best.
As we hit the water it stung my nose, and eyes, and my legs struck the bottom of the pool with a painful thud. As my mother pulled me from the water she asked me,"Was it worth it?" I'm sure you can guess what my answer was,"Just one more time Mama!"
One more time turned into at least ten more times. It was worth it.
Having my first child almost parallelled that first water slide experience. As I lay there breathless, with a tingling in my feet that meant I would soon be feeling the pain again, I knew it was worth every tear filled, painful, terrifying minute.