Conference moira::parenting_v3

1035.0. "Serious/thoughtful quotes, letters, poems" by TLE::RANDALL () Thu Jul 18 1991 12:14

    I'm entering this note on behalf of a parenting member who wishes
    to remain anonymous at this time.  
    
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I would like to share the following letter with parenting noters.
My wife wrote this on the occasion of our child's 1st birthday. 
I'm sharing it with her permission.  
                                     
The letter stems in part from the specific circumstances surrounding 
our child's birth.  Our child was born about 10 weeks prematurely and 
weighed less that 2.5 lbs.  Both baby and mother, who suffered eclampsia, 
were initially quite ill.  While the letter reflects these very
personal experiences, it also reflects, I believe, fears and hopes shared 
by many new parents.
         
PS:  Mother and baby have thrived.  At age one, our baby is now 21 lbs.

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Dear baby,

It seems like so long ago and only yesterday that you were born.  What a 
time it was.  So much fear and hope and terror and joy and fear.
How scared I was that you would die.  How scared I was that you would be
marred in some way.  How scared I was that I would die.  How scared I was
that I could not go through each day and each day and each day until you
came home.  How scared I was that you would not be okay once you came home.

Those endless days of visiting you in the hospital.  Waiting to see you.  
Waiting for you to grow.  Waiting for you to come home.  The hard hot 
endless days of the summer that was not of 1990.  The days of taxis to the
hospital and sleeping on couches and strange beds in other people's houses
and pumping in that awful heat and having to sterilize [the pumping equipment]
by boiling in that awful heat and Bill's shuttle** and not seeing Daddy for 
days and not ever sleeping right and not being able to call [the hospital] in
the morning and asking your dad to call and finding out things were all
right after all.

The days of the transfer to [a community hospital] and the nurses [there] who 
were just okay and the realizing that we needed you home.  And the coming home
and the fear so piercing that something could happen to the tiny you and we
were on our own with you.  And the days and nights of [your] crying and [me] 
never getting enough sleep and being unable to sleep during the day and so glad
to have you home and having your dad bring you to me in the middle of night and
[he] saying, "here's mommy, she'll give you milk."

And still you grew and grew up and gave us exciting moments of smiles and 
coos and laughs and holding things and picking things up and holding 
yourself up and sitting up and rolling over and moving and babbling and
telling me what you wanted and competence and control and active 
exploration.
 
And now you are one years old.  And friends and love ones and dear people
came to celebrate us [at a joint birthday party for mother and baby] and 
love us and be happy for us and share happiness and sing to us and have the 
happy time that we wanted at the beginning and that we have now with you.

Your dad is okay and your mom is okay and you are okay.  Really more than 
okay, and happy and healthy and vital and growing and caring and loving and
being together in a really family way.  We have tremendous love and caring
and being together, and I love you so and am so grateful you and your 
father are in my life.

The contrast is hard sometimes. To be so happy with you and surrounded by 
love and the normal fears of parenthood and growing together of parents 
and baby and family. To resume a life not like the one before you were 
born and not exactly like we had planned and the uncertainties that
surely every parent must feel.  And to contrast that with the despair and
hopelessness and helplessness that I felt what seems such a short and 
such a long time ago.  The contrast is hard and the memories are hard and
I call all my strength to feel it and live with it and grow with it.

And you are in our lives for good.  And you are goodness.

I love you.

Your mom.

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** Bill's shuttle = a suburban limo service that my wife used sometimes
	to get to the city hospital where our child was cared for.
	Because of her caesarean and post-surgery problems, my wife 
	couldn't drive for six weeks following our child's birth.

			TO MY GROWN-UP-CHILD

		My hands were busy through the day,
		I didn't have much time to play
		The little games you asked me to.
		I didn't have much time for you,
		I'd wash your clothes, I'd serve and cook
		But when you'd bring your picture book
		And ask me please to share your play
		I'd say:"A little later in the day."
		I'd tuck you in all safe at nite
		And hear your prayers, turn out the lite.
		Then Tip-Toe softly to the door....
		I'd wish I'd stayed a little more.
		For life is short, the years rush past...
		A little child grows up so fast.
		They are no longer at your side.
		Their precious secrets to confide.
		The picture books are put away.
		There are no longer games to play....
		No good-night kiss, no prayers to hear..
		That all belongs to yesteryear.
		My hands, once busy, now are still....
		The days long and hard to fill..
		I wish i could go back and do
		The little things you asked me to!!!!!

    

    
    
    I was reading the Enquirer this morning and this is about the only
    thing in the magazine that has ever had any truth to it!
    
    
    A thought for the Christmas Holiday and the future:
    
    
                            For A Child
    
    With love, patience and effort, we can make a tree become something
    beautiful we can fully enjoy at Christmas.
    
    With love, patience and effort, we can make a child become something
    beautiful we can fully enjoy for a lifetime.
    
    
    How true....
    
    
    Merry christmas to all!
    Sandy:-)