Wednesday, October 14, 2015

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: