There are few things in life as exciting as the birth of a child, and few things that can change a couple’s life as surely and swiftly as that child. A new bouncing baby boy brings great joy, and great…
Published November 15, 2007 by
Your father is so kind, so gentle. As I write this you're snuggled in his arms waiting for King Kong or Godzilla to come on the video screen. These nights are perfect.
If I go downstairs I might feel hassled. It's a mess. I cleaned several times today and it's still a mess. It's my job to do most of the cleaning up. That's because I'm home-so I can be with you when you need me. It's taken me a few years to get used to doing the household stuff and to realize that your father does a host of things he doesn't want to do at his job.
My parents-your grandparents-encouraged me to get married. They said they just didn't want me to be alone. I didn't know what they meant. I had them, good friends, lots of interests. I was full, and though I hoped I would have somebody to love in my life, I didn't really know, or care, how much better things could be.
My daddy died before your father and I got married. We got lots of beautiful wedding gifts, but the best part about it all was that we were together and in love.
Your father asked for permission to marry me when my daddy was so sick he could barely speak. He nodded yes and my mom was so happy she hugged me. Then my daddy died and your father and I got married. My mom went a little crazy. She seemed very angry with me. I think it was because suddenly everything had changed. Now I was married and she wasn't. She married again and I felt Daddy's presence around me a lot, so everything was fine.
We found out we were going to have a baby. I was happy but scared because I didn't know if there would be enough love and time for all three of us. The love was no problem. The time was. We needed time as a family, as a couple, and each of us (except you) needed to be alone. It took about a year to figure out how to juggle all of this. We still don't always find the time we need.
When you were born, I was happier than I'd ever been. You were everything then that you are now sweet, alert, inquisitive, and funny (and we'd only just met). One week later my mom was in a coma and we knew she'd die soon. She was old and had lived a pretty good life, but I felt as if I was no longer standing on the ground.
I became terribly worried about your safety. It was hard for me to trust anybody, even your father, to take care of you. I was so shaken it took me a long time to see how good he was with you. The love between your father and me continues to grow. He tries to help me fulfill my dreams. I try to help him with his. He can get me to laugh when I'm crying.
You, my big three-and-a-half-year-old, told me yesterday you want to marry me. Of course, this desire is natural at your age, but I'll let it mean, too, that you know how deeply satisfying being married is.
I love you.