Last year on Mother’s Day, I was eight months pregnant and anxiously awaiting the arrival of my little one. Seeing Lauren this year on Mother’s Day brought back some pleasant memories of pregnancy. I only wished I had looked this good at the end of my pregnancy.
Like Lauren, I carried a mixed-race child. I had resigned myself to the fact that my baby would most likely resemble my darker-skinned husband more than me. So imagine my surprise when this child emerged barely a shade darker than me, with the same almond shaped-eyes that have (although they are nearly black), soft wavy hair, with my husband’s full lips, broad shoulders and large hands and feet. He had features that captured both of us, and as I stared at him, I thought: ‘I couldn’t have designed a more beautiful baby if I had tried.’
This week, he turns 11 months and my husband is threatening to disown him if he doesn’t darken up a bit this summer. Most people recognize that he is mixed race, but what that mix is, they usually can’t tell, unless of course my husband is standing with us.
It’s been a challenge trying to be mindful of our diverse heritage while raising my son. Being a French-Canadian in Toronto is almost equivalent to being a Caribbean-born person in terms of minority population. Still, I’m proud to say that he is blessed with family on both sides who are active in his life and will help him reconcile the two.
Motherhood has been an amazing and incredible journey so far. My son makes me laugh everyday, which is a good thing, because he also tests the limits of my patience and sanity! Still, I wouldn’t trade a minute of the last 11 months for anything, the good, the bad, the laughing, the crying, it’s all part of a journey that I share with all other moms. Welcome to the club Lauren!
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