My Sweet Miss,
It is all around me, in every place I go and everything I do. I was just driving home, and two beautiful songs came on the radio, back to back. As I listened closely to the lyrics on my favorite country station, back to the past I went. The first song was called I Loved Her First, by Heartland, and it was a dad singing to his new son-in-law at his daughter’s wedding. Throughout the song, he tells the man that, although he is now married to his daughter, he was the one who was there at the beginning, who was always her number one. He urges the young man to take care of her, and tells him how he fell in love with her the second she was born.
Miss, the day my girl was born was the happiest day of my life. My wedding was NOT the happiest day of my life, as the drama and the control were already beginning. I knew that I didn’t love him, and his mom and grandma were so unkind and unfriendly. The wedding was my mother’s show, and I was fine with that, even though the night before my wedding, my parents had had the biggest fight and said they were divorcing. My cousin, Gina, was up from Florida, and she and I had to leave my house because of how my parents were fighting over this guy, Armando, who was the new husband of one of my mother’s friends. Al felt he was a pompous ass, and Al never liked that. Maybe I didn’t feel well at my wedding because, unbeknownst to me, my little peanut was already growing inside of me.
Miss, I was in back labor all weekend with Marissa. I actually went into false labor on Friday night, and we were sent home with the promise that I would have the baby by the end of the weekend. Jay wouldn’t let me tell my parents or my sister that I was in labor. He didn’t want them worrying, or involved, and he just wanted the control. He wanted to send the message to them that he was in charge now. (My mother told me she sensed from my voice that I was having contractions).
I went into the hospital late Sunday night when the contractions were 5 minutes apart. I would go 4 minutes and then 4 minutes and then 3 minutes and then 6 minutes, but Jay wouldn’t let me call the doctor because that wasn’t a consistent 5 minutes apart. When we left for the hospital, I wanted to call Bobby and Al and Lisa, but Jay wouldn’t let me. So, when 4 centimeters refused to become 10, and when I was taken into the delivery room for my C-section, Jay still wouldn’t call them. He said he would let them know when the baby was born.
At 7:21 on a Monday morning, Marissa came into the world. I was so in love, and she was so beautiful. Life made sense finally. All of the mistakes I made all along were somehow validated because I had this bundle of joy and blessing and heart. I just wanted to see my mom though, because I needed to know that I was still somebody’s baby. The thing was though, because Jay wouldn’t call them earlier, my mom had left for school minutes before Marissa was born. So, he called my dad, who, in all of his excitement, heard 19 inches as 9 pounds, 10 ounces.
When Al finally got hold of my mother at school, 45 minutes later, Bobby nearly stroked out thinking that somebody my size had tried to deliver nearly a 10 pound baby. She, of course, got right back into her car, and she raced to New Jersey from Staten Island. I kept asking where she was, but, because she had such a long drive and because she didn’t find out until Marissa was an hour or so old because she was en route to Staten Island, I didn’t see my mom for hours. But, when she came into the room, I let out such a sob of relief and joy.
I loved her first, Miss. I loved her first.
Me