Letter to An Angel

Angel Time

When you were born I called you my little angel. Your Dad called you his little angel too.

We had no idea what we were having, so when the doctor held you up and grinned as he said, “Meet your little girl” your dad and I instantly fell in love with you. We fell in love with a small, sticky, little bundle that we didn’t even know yet; all we knew was that you were the rest of us, the family we’d always dreamed we’d someday become.

The moment I found out I was pregnant with you I immediately felt like a real grown up. I felt different, somehow more important, and special in a strange way. Suddenly, I wasn’t just me, I was us. From the moment I knew I was pregnant I knew that everything I was, everything I did, and everything I ate or drank was going to become part of you. It was exciting, scary and terrifying all at the same time. Some days it felt very real, like my body was no longer my own, other days it felt like a dream.

Your strong sense of independence was apparent from the moment I became pregnant. Really, I am not making this up. Before I even knew I was pregnant you made your tiny presence known. Actually, it is funny now, 21 years later, but at the time I was mad. Really, really mad-at your dad.

Ok, here is how it went. We’d been married a year, had just bought our first house, a 900 square foot brick 1940’s bungalow for the staggering price of $42,000. We couldn’t imagine ever being able to pay it off, but it was home. About this time I came to your dad and suggested we start “tying” to have a baby. Scared at first, he seemed hesitant. Yes, we were married, yes, we were both college graduates, yes we both had jobs, and yes we owned a house but…. We were all of 23 years old, for all intents and purposes we were broke and we were clueless as to what being parents involved. We were in love and I guess we thought that was all we needed. He finally agreed.

Anyway, flash forward and wham bam thank you ma’am  after assuring your dad it would take at least 6 months to get pregnant after being on the pill I defied all odds and apparently got pregnant the month I went off the pill. I should have bought a lottery ticket.

Not knowing I was actually pregnant, I found myself in bed one night, trying to cuddle up to my husband but being plagued with a strange and unexpected case of the burps. Yes, the burps. For the first and only time in my life I could not stop burping, belching, whatever you want to call it, it was not normal, it was not lady like and I could not stop. I tried a drink of water, I tried a Tums, but nothing worked. Finally, very disgusted with me, my young husband rolled over away from me and said the fateful words “why don’t you go fix yourself!”

“What? What did you say?’ I replied, my voice getting higher by the minute.

“Go fix yourself!” he muttered to the wall.

“Well, I never!” I thought to myself.

“How could he say something like that to me?” raced through my mind. Completely irate I threw back the covers and flew out of bed, marching purposely toward the extra bedroom. I tossed a blanket and pillow on the floor and flopped down, my feelings seriously hurt.

“How could he say that to me?” I whined to myself.

Now, it is important to note that although we did technically did have an extra bedroom we could not afford an actual extra bed. I found myself lying on the floor, burping and mad.

“I am sure he will quickly realize how mean he was when he said that and he will come in and apologize to me, “ I logically thought. Guess what? I was wrong. He managed to sleep, warm and comfortable and very sound in our waterbed while I burped and belched the night away on the floor of our extra bedroom. This was our first real “disagreement” of our young marriage.

In an attempt at full disclosure I must add a note about his side of the story.  He claims, whenever I tell this story, that I was not just belching and burping, I was belching and burping in his face. Now that is his side of the story.  I claim complete innocence in that.  But anyway the rest of the story….

The next morning my young husband gave me a hug and asked me if I was feeling better. I went and bought a pregnancy kit at Wal-Mart. Guess what? I was pregnant. Now it all made sense, no wonder I could not stop belching, burping or whatever you want to call it.

When I told Dan he smiled, laughed and gave me a big hug. Hormonal and all, I celebrated too. I forgot all about how mad I was last night.

Even barely pregnant you made me burp, you made me belch, and you made your presence very well known. Soon you had me suffering from morning sickness, which could have been called all day sickness. Later, you and I fought over whom was the boss as you pushed your long legs deep up into my ribs or on my sciatic nerves.

I laugh, because I actually prayed for your long legs. Can you believe that? I know you know that I have very short legs, in fact, I am only 5 feet tall, so when I found out I was pregnant I prayed every day for a healthy baby but I did add that if she was a girl I hoped it would be God’s will that she also had long legs. Guess what? You had very long legs and they did not fit very well in my 5-foot frame so for moths we argued and fussed. You usually won.

The morning you were born I was so amazed at the beautiful baby girl with the long legs that your Dad and I had somehow managed to create.

When you were still tiny it was apparent that I had no clue what I was doing as a mother, but I loved you with all my heart and soul.

I learned much about motherhood and babies during those first 12 months. I learned that a large part of motherhood was on the job training, I learned that you could tell a lot about the personality of a baby very early on if you just can interpret the signs correctly and I learned what it was to love someone else with my whole heart and soul.

I became a mother. One of the greatest gifts of my life.

So my friend, I ask you “what’s next on your list?”

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