When I was growing up, I knew I wanted to get married someday and have children. Yeah, yeah, I wanted to act and sing and become a teacher, but the only thing I was sure that I was supposed to accomplish in life was marriage and motherhood. Because that was what was expected of females in my social strata. I had fed, played with, taught, bathed and dressed kids of my siblings, relatives and neighbors, so I thought I was ready to be a mother. That was ... until I became a mother.

January 28, 1984 changed me forever. I had stayed the night at Durden's Hospital, Colombo to get prepped for surgery. In the surgery room, I was nervous and the anesthesiologist was talking to me to keep me calm and as he injected me. He asked me what baby I wanted. I said, "as long as it is healthy and normal, I don't mind. But, I really would like to have a boy." The next thing I remember is hearing a baby crying and the doctor proclaiming, "It's a boy!" Still groggy, I said, "I knew God would give me a son."

An Heir is Born

When I woke up in the recovery room, I started yelling, "Michael, where's Michael, we have a son!" I kept repeating this as the attendant wheeled me all the way to my hospital room. A few hours later, a nurse brought in my newborn son and placed him next to me to feed. My baby instinctively knew how to suckle. Still weak from surgery, I slowly held him for a few minutes and saw the most beautiful human being I have ever seen. It was like looking into the eyes of an angel. And, the stunning realization of actually giving birth to this amazing person struck me with awe.

first Christmas - first train set

Don & his Teddy Bear "Ethee"

Soon, the visitors and flowers kept streaming in. And, I received the first toy for our son... a cute little teddy bear from Maya Vikrantha.
We had to name our son and I wanted a fancy name like Alain (after the handsome Alain Delon) but Michael thought people would call our son Elaine. I suggested Tarik - it sounded so exotic. Another resounding NO from Michael. After throwing out some other names, I gave up and Michael firmly decided that this new addition who would take center stage in our lives would be called "Don Michael Lloyd Walpola, Jr.," after his dad. The "Don" was a title/name that came down the generations and our son was the first one in the line of Don Willard Walpola.

After I went back home, the realization set in. I was a Mom! I had a living, breathing, human being to take care of even when I was tired. We tried a couple of maids, but they just didn't fit Michael's and my needs for taking care of our little heir. And, I decided to go back to work after two months. So, my sister Jean used to come in every morning and stay till evening with strict instructions on how to feed, burp, wash and change our baby. Everything was hyper-sterile and anyone who held him had to wash their hands right before they held him.

In early 1985, just as Don turned one, we left the sunny beaches of Sri Lanka and moved to the US. I was young and it seemed like an adventure. Little did I know that life was going to be so different and so challenging. Michael was going to college, I found a job and we both had to balance raising this one year-old. By the grace of God, I found friends and a great church. Without their moral support, I have no idea what life would have been.

first steps

Four years later, Don became a big brother, a role he embraced with delight and he's been a solid rock of support for Tara.

Motherhood: if you think my hands are full, you should see my heart

Over the years, I've seen similarities and differences between my children and traits inherited from both Michael and me.

Don graduated from UC Berkeley with an undergrad in Applied Math and went on to graduate with a Masters in Statistics - Artificial Intelligence, Machine Learning. Tara graduated from New York University with an undergrad in creative writing.They both have a great sense of humor and are exceptionally creative. What gives me the greatest satisfaction is that they are both centered and have a great value system.