I have never been one to talk about my feelings especially when they involve sadness. I’m all for the hugs, but spoken words just seem to get in the way of my emotion. Recently, life has thrown my family a bit of an unfair curveball that has left the three of us having to deal with a lot of pain and confusion. Unable to talk about my pain, I have decided to take a leap of faith and put it out there in writing. A recent blog posting by XENOGIRL called A letter from my future self (A great read if you are so inclined.) gave me the inspiration to write this post. So…
We saw your heartbeat the other day. I remember being engulfed in a warm rush of excitement as I sat listening to the rhythmic sound of you. There you were, alive and well in your mother’s womb. I squeezed your mother’s leg, looked into her eyes and smiled. You were real. The doctor pointed to a second sac and informed us that you were originally a twin. Like me, I thought, you must have been the stronger of the two. The doctor then printed out an ultrasound picture and handed it to me. I stroked the glossy image and felt the blood rush back to my head as I touched you for the first time. You never have to fear, my baby – you were loved.
We left the doctor’s office and headed straight for the temple. Mommy wanted to say a prayer for you. I followed her lead as we lit sweetly scented incense, bowed and asked the Gods for nothing more than your health and happiness. We threw small packs of spirit money into a small pagoda outside the temple and briefly watched the flames engulf our offerings. Your mother pressed her hands together in a final prayer and we drove straight to your A-ma’s house eager to surprise your sister. You never have to fear, my baby – you were in our prayers.
More than anything, Siaya had wanted a baby brother or sister. You were hidden in the smoke of every birthday candle she ever blew out and in the twinkle of every star she wished upon. You can imagine then the squeals of delight, excitement and happiness that poured out of her and filled the house when she found out about you. You never have to fear, my baby – you were wanted.
Although, your mommy and I didn’t really start preparing for your arrival, your sis went on a rampage. She removed her old baby books from her bookshelf and began wrapping them as presents for you. (A small pile still sits untouched underneath the bar.) We had to convince her that wrapping a present a day for seven months might not be a prudent thing to do considering the size of our apartment. We negotiated to a gift a week. You never have to fear, my baby – you were in our thoughts.
You must have heard our voices as we read you stories. You must have felt our love as we kissed every day. You must have understood our excitement as we began telling people of our news. You must have sensed our impatience as we waited for seven months to come and go. You never have to fear, my baby – you were ours.
Until the doctor showed us you were gone. You had to have felt our hearts break in unison as we looked upon the dark screen. The same screen that was pulsating with life only a few weeks before. You had to have heard the sorrow erupting from your sister as I held her tightly in my arms trying desperately to ease her pain. You must feel the vacancy and ache that you have left in our hearts. And you must see the tears I am shedding as I write you this. You never have to fear, my baby – you are and forever will be ours.
Siaya always thought our baby would be a boy. And so track 17, Father to Son, by Phil Collins is in memory of…
Father to Son youtube link