Mom Of A Teenager

My son is 13 years old today. I can’t believe this.

It’s official.

I’m a mom of a teenager!

I know I’m not that old but I sure do feel old.  I was 21 when I had him.

I can still remember the day I found out I was pregnant.  I bought a pregnancy test at a pharmacy store on Central Ave. in Yonkers, NY.  My boyfriend (my husband now) and I decided to eat lunch at Nathan’s not far away.  After we ate, I told him that I wanted to take the test.  He wanted me to wait until we got home.  But  I needed to know because I was feeling too sick.

After I got out of the bathroom, I showed him the pregnancy test.

There it was.  A plus sign.  We couldn’t believe it!  I was pregnant.

I went through all sorts of emotions and I’m sure he did too.  I had just turned 21.  I was excited to know that I can finally drink alcohol legally.  Yes, I know it sounds silly but what can I say? I was young.

We sat at Nathan’s for a couple of hours, talking about what we should do.  My boyfriend and I were together for 6 years and it was probably time to start thinking about marriage.  We talked about marriage and stuff like that before but now it was the real deal.

–Let’s fast forward to Labor Day weekend in 1996.  My water broke at 2pm. I had no pain so my doctor said to come in when the pain kicked in.  I got to the hospital at 8pm because I was scared that something would happen to the baby being that the amniotic fluid kept coming out.

I was in labor (funny, uh?) for 21 hours and after almost two hours of pushing, I was sent to have an emergency c-section.

After I woke up, I was in a daze.  It was a bittersweet moment because I was happy that the labor was over but I didn’t want to hold my son.

I felt weird.

I felt like he wasn’t mine.  I looked at him and he looked funny.  It was a weird disconnection between us.  My husband asked me if I wanted to hold him but I said no, just leave me alone.  I heard my mom and others say that I must be going through postpartum depression.  I thought, maybe they were right.

The next day, I felt different.  I felt like myself.  I wanted to hold my son and I couldn’t wait to touch him, to smell him and to just be with him. I even loved his the way he cried.  It was soft and beautiful.

By the way, I didn’t suffer from postpartum depression.  Thank goodness.

–Now, he’s 13 and sometimes I want to put tape over his mouth so he can stop talking.


Seriously, I am blessed to have such an amazing son.  He’s smart, sincere, caring and a very loving son.  He does his chores (most of time) and helps his Mom and Dad willingly.

He has a huge heart and he loves to help his little sisters whenever they need it too.

The best part of it all is that he says I still look like I’m 25 years old.   Isn’t he cute?

Here’s to you Steven — birthdaycarosel

Have a great birthday!! I love you!!


  1. Hey Lisa, This was the cutest story ever!!! Isn’t great when we appreciate our lives and our children… they are the best part of our lives regardless our ages. Could you imagine… you had him at 21 and I have a 4 month old at the age of 40 and I love it…

    I agree with your son… you still look 25!!! God Bless you and your family!

  2. Aw, congratulations on making it 13 years with your sanity intact. My son, Javier, is 8 and somedays I’m not sure I’ll make it. 🙂

  3. Nikki @ Blasian Baby says:

    Happy bday Steven! Thanks for sharing your pregnancy to birth story

  4. Happy Birthday to your son Steven! Thanks for sharing your story. I’m still very grateful I don’t have kids!!!! LOL

  5. Great Memories! Happy Birthday Steven! Welcome to the teen years.

  6. love the story. It amazing how fast they grow, but how much we hold in memory. Happy bday to him@

  7. You just about told me story down to the t, except test taking was at a Subway. lol I don’t know what I’ll do with myself once my son hits 13. He’s only 8 now but I could sure use some of that duct tape. 😉

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