My mother's idea of natural childbirth was giving birth without makeup. She was hyper-positive - the world is a wonderful place, rainbows and unicorns. If you said anything contrary to her, you were basically exiled.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
As a child, my mother had instilled in me a feeling of being born for a purpose.
I was born two months early, and everyone had given up on me. But my mother insisted on my life.
My mother hated foundation; she hated having a mask on her face - and she pushed me to build my own vision and concept of beauty for women.
To be a mother is a magical experience. The whole body is transformed by this.
My natural mother died one month after I was born, apparently due to giving birth at an advanced age.
Becoming a mother was the single defining event of my life. It felt like the whole world shifted.
My mother persevered through much adversity because she possessed faith in God, self-respect, and an awareness of history; most especially, she was astute in Africa's significant contribution to world history. Sister Betty refused to live her life as a victim.
When 1970s feminism hit the United States, women demanded the right to natural childbirth and to have their husband or another support person in the delivery room. My mother gave birth to me during this time.
Instead of joyfully looking forward to my birth, my mother began systematically preparing for her own death. She was fatalistic.
My mother giving birth to me was just like Lady Sybil giving birth, except that there wasn't such a tragic ending.