Personal Narrative: A Mother's Nothing?

Growing up in a household full of girls with a single mother, I learned how to be strong and independent. My mother was never really the type of mother to be affectionate, she had more of a tough love point of view. I was always expected to get the best grades I could possibly have along with being focused and determined to go to college which most of my family did not do. My mother taught me how to always be respectful and have good manners especially when it came to other adults. From the age of 5, I was doing chores in the house, and setting goals for my future.

What does it mean to be a parent? Being a parent means putting the well-being of your family and baby's safety first at all times, and making sure that no one will harm them. In addition, it means to love unconditionally and helping your kids grow to become respectful members of society. They will also be someone who will make the best possible choices in life and are willing to come to you whenever they need help because they look up to you as their strength and guidance. But, the one thing I don’t understand is why so many parents are killing their babies at the first stage of life, just because they are not ready to become parents. Because I believe if a couple is not ready or is willing to put a baby’s life above their own, they should

“We were led into an examining room, where a nurse instructed my mother to remove her shirt and put on a cotton smock with strings that dangled at her sides. When my mother had done so, she climbed onto a padded table with white paper stretched over it. Each time she moved, the room was on fire with the paper ripping and crinkling beneath her. I could see her naked back, the small curve of flesh beneath her waist. She was not going to die. Her naked back seemed proof of that. I was staring at it when the real doctor came into the room and said my mother would be lucky if she lived a year. He explained that they would not attempt to cure her, that she was incurable. There was nothing that could have been done, he told us. Finding it so late was common, when it came to lung cancer,” (Strayed, 11).

The day I almost died was the day my child came into this world. She came bursting into this world four weeks earlier than expected and it all started a week earlier. A simple checkup that resulted into an ultrasound, labor, and finally the moment I almost died.

I hopped out of our camper trailer with sheer excitement and in a hurried voice shouted to my parents that I was going to try out my new scooter. My mom yelled back from across the campsite that I was not going anywhere without my helmet. Following my unsuccessful attempt at protesting her advice, she proceeded to inform me that if I did not put the helmet on she would bring the scooter back to the store where she had bought it. I could not let my mother repossess the scooter that I just received, so I scurried off to find my helmet.

As I sit down waiting for my mother, I look around the room that I am in seeing the light brown carpet contrasted with the orange-red wall, as well as our white lab who lay snoring loudly in front of me. My mother finally sits down on the couch, and collects herself together so that she could listen to whatever I had to say. Angela Olberding, a loving mom to three children has always been very cheerful and kind to anyone that she encounters, even though most of her life she has not been given back that kindness. She works as a special Ed teacher in an elementary school for the Queen Creek district, teaching math, reading, and writing for children with disabilities. She wants to get an administrative job, and has applied, but for now she happily waits and teaches her students. I have no idea how she can balance out her workload, as well as be a wonderful mother to my siblings and me.

There have been many situations which have shaped my character, but the one situation that is the basis of myself is my mother. When I was two years old, my mother was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis or MS. MS is a disease that disables the central nervous system and thus disrupts the flow of information to the brain, which then goes out to the body. In every diagnosed person, the symptoms are different and so is the severity.

My mom, Alicel, was ten when she first moved to the United States. She is the youngest of nine siblings, most of which already lived in America. Alicel always visited her older siblings a couple times a year with a visa, which gave her six months to stay in the u.s legally. By the time she was 15 she was fluent in English and already familiar with American customs. She had been visiting America for 11 years before moving there permanently at the age of 21.

It was a good story, but that night I was scared shitless that he might die and his collapse made me think how my parents might feel if I died.

There was light flashing. Screaming and wailing mothers. There was running and panic. It seemed that everywhere I went with her, there was always an aura of fear. It wasn’t her fault. What she was told was the safest place was usually the safest to get to. It was one refugee camp to the next. Each place was the same. Nothing more than crumbling walls and linoleum floor. If you were lucky or paid more, you were given a bed raised off the floor with some blankets. We were only lucky once. I got to sleep in the bed. But we were only there for 3 months. It was a horrible three months. I couldn’t dream and she says I would say “ I’m falling. I’m taking my time on my ride.” The place was bombed. We left the day before because the food supply was

In 2001, when I first became a mother, I had no idea what I was doing. I just prayed that I wouldn't break her! She was so tiny (2.8) and quite frankly I was terrified! But I LOVED that tiny little baby girl so much and knew that I didn't only have to be a mom but I had to fight for her. Sickness was not going to defeat us!

It really is a shame that I didn't get to know her better when I was younger, but I am glad I do know her pretty well now.

Before I even had a chance, I started off as a statistic. My mother at the very young age of just

One day in the year of 2017 I've cut because I felt that I wasn't getting loved by my family and that no one would listen to me when I wanted to say things. I’ve cut and I tried to hide it from everyone but one day my mom asked me to get her juice, so I got up and I gave it to her, but she saw my arm and she said “what is that” I was quite and walked away. My mom loved me so much that she told my step dad and we went to get lunch with my sister. We were sitting in the car waiting for my dad's truck to be fixed and he said “so why are you doing that stuff.” I started crying and I told them all my feelings and why I was cutting, suddenly my mom starts to cry and my dad was talking to me still, am watching my mom cry when I started to realize

One of the most precious, exciting moment in a woman’s life is giving birth to a healthy baby. Throughout the pregnancy, women have different needs that include loving support, comfort, and facts about what is to be expected. This is essentially a labor doula’s job, to offer emotional maintenance and information to not just the mother, but to the family as well if needed. For many, being a doula is a second job taken up by women who have in interest the best outcomes for birth (Hartocollis). For this reason, the majority of them in the field have a passion for their work, but still one must research for the right match in personality and price. Often times the price can be negotiable as well, especially if it is the doula’s just getting into the position. They do not speak for the mother or give bias views to influence a decision, they are simply around to make a safe, pleasant birth (Perez). To push their views upon a woman is forbidden in the practice and they must make sure that she is as aware as possible. A doula should definitely be considered by an expecting mother, numerous studies have shown how doulas can be extremely beneficial to the family and the infant; they are the perfect additional hand.