Jump
Denise Bolds, MSW, CD(DONA) October 13, 2105
26 years ago I was at Cross
County Mall, Yonkers NY calling my mom on a payphone. I told her my virus was
the pregnancy kind. My marriage of less than a year was over; here I was, black, suddenly single and pregnant. I was having an out-of-body experience.
My mother went into
empowerment mode; she told me I could do this, I would be a great mom and I could
raise this baby; she and my father would be with me every step of the way. My
marriage was over before it began; the man I gave my egg to and took a vow with was weak and
unaccountable. I wanted a marriage like my parents. Now this?
I spent the next few months
walking through a nightmare of dissolving my marriage, securing healthcare and keeping my head above water all through morning sickness and early pregnancy. It wasn't until I went
into pre-term labor at 5 months when my midwife, Paula Duran sat me down and said: “Either
you want this baby or your marriage; you are under tremendous stress, you can’t
do both.”
I chose my baby.
After being discharged from
the hospital after another pre-term scare, I prayed one night before
sleeping. Holding my big belly in my
hands, I prayed to God for my son to be born healthy and mine. God answered me
as I slept; we had an amazing conversation: I was in a high, bright place that
was warm and peaceful all around me. God’s voice surrounded me and went through
me every time he spoke: Me: “God, I want this baby, please don’t take him from
me, I lost my marriage. I don’t want to loose him too.” God responded: “If I
give you this life, it will forever change your life. You will no longer be the same as you
are now.” I agreed to God’s intervention. It took me along time to keep my word, but God
always kept His.
After two days of back labor,
I gave birth naturally to my son on September 13th. My birth was
traumatic and riddled with medical discrimination. My mother and dear friend Maureen were my
labor coaches. I was lucky to have my midwife assist in my birth; I was a Medicaid PCAP pregnancy and OB’s only wanted private insurances.
It was love at first sight
when I laid eyes on my son as he was being born. I breastfed and cloth diapered
him; I also suffered from post-partum depression that went undiagnosed for
months after I gave birth. Another one of the results of medical discrimination. It was the only time in motherhood I was actually afraid.
The next 25 years were some
of the most challenging, amazing tumultuous, growth times of my life. I grew up
along with my baby, we grew super close. As I grew as a mother I also grew as a
woman, I also grew spiritually. My father passed away when Jordan was three (a huge adjustment). I
earned three college degrees, survived domestic abuse, miscarried a few more
babies, owned a home, married again, divorced again, lost my home, filed
bankruptcy, had my car repossessed and worked my ass off with my higher learning. My leap of faith I
took into motherhood resulted in my growth as a person in spirit not just in
this world, but this universe. I failed well and repeatedly; my son was always there, cheering me on; playing with his toys in
the back of the classroom as I sat in my college classes. My son sacrificed for
me as I did for him.
Jordan is an amazing
man. As a child he was highly intelligent, creative and very funny in his own
sensitive, Virgo way. Jordan is an old soul, as a baby I would sing to him. Now
I only sing for God. Jordan also has his
master’s degree, he is unique in both character and creativity; he taught
himself how to surf (in Australia) and take photographs (since age 8). He loves music first and photography
second. I introduced him to rock music and Michael Jackson. My son is very
popular and he loves to travel. Apple does not fall far from the tree, Jordan is also fearless.
I am indeed grateful to this
son of mine who has changed my life. I am grateful to my ex-husband for his
biological contribution. I pray I never loose sweet memories of Jordan and I
doing the coolest things while he was growing up. I love being his mom.
It was only fitting that
Jordan and I go skydiving this year, 2015: I am now 51 and having fun. Jordan
is a black man 25; and is still alive. We dived on a beautiful sunny day
without a single cloud in the sky. I made Jordan go before me. I was the last
one to leave the plane.
Watching my son fall from the
plane attached to his tandem diver, my internal maternal gut reaction clenched
for a moment, then my faith took over. I know Jordan would be all right without
me. I have given him a strong foundation to be a good human being, a man and someday
a father. Jordan didn't just jump – he dove! Just like he is doing with his
life. My son theVirgo did a perfect
dive.
I was the last to jump out of
that plane; it was a dozy. Not only did
I jump but being the Leo I am, I also did a summersault mid air! I came full circle. I did look
back as the picture shows.
Looking back, I was saying good-bye to the
old me; to all the sadness, disappointments, hardship and failures. I jumped
into my faith, my strength. I jumped with my wisdom, bravery and fearlessness
that I learned in 26 years. The jump initially took my breath away, just like
25 years ago when I first laid eyes on my baby boy as I pushed him out into
this world.
My landing was one of grace
and giggles. My son, was there to greet me. We both made it; breathless and
exhilarated. I wouldn't have it any other way. I was meant to be Jordan’s mom.
I took a jump 26 years ago, my God catches me every time without a
parachute!
Here is the link to video of my jump:
