I love you too by: Natacha Saint-Lo
I love you too
By: Natacha Saint-Lo
“Ever since that little bump had started to appear under Moms shirt, we haven’t been staying at home a whole lot. I didn’t really question the change in setting, because Mom always seemed to make the right decisions.
That morning I woke up a little earlier than usual. After squirming around and waiting for my muscles to awake, I heard Mom talking to someone. I couldn’t really make out the voice, but I think it was Grandma, only because Mom was drinking her famous home made hot chocolate that had a hypnotizing aroma. There seemed to be a lot of love and compassion in the room.
My innate curiosity pushed me to listen in on the conversation. I unfortunately couldn’t get into the right location to eavesdrop properly, so their voices were slightly muffled.
“So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know…I just don’t know. I feel lost.”
I never heard Mom speak in such a worrisome voice. She always spoke to me in the most reassuring tone, and never failed make me feel like everything was going to be okay.
“He left me…he left us. I know we’ve been arguing a lot lately, but never would I have imagined this. Not him. Not to us.”
My heart stopped. Although I couldn’t hear the words clearly, the message certainly didn’t lack in clarity. Daddy left us. The one man I trusted was gone. But why? Had i done anything to drive him away?
“I really don’t know what to do, or to feel. But you know what? I know exactly what not to do.”
I needed to gather myself to keep listening in on the conversation. But I was too far and poorly angled. I slowly moved in closer, got into a little ball so they wouldn’t notice I was there.
“Well, it’s not going to be easy. I feel like my world is crumbling. The man I love, my partner, my joy, has chosen another path - a path that does not include us. The pain in my chest is unbearable and the weight on my shoulders is huge. To say that I’m devastated is a mere understatement.”
She paused. Sighed. And looked down. My heart started to race - I got caught listening to something I was probably not suppose to be listening to.
“”It’s okay Love.”" she said, as she put her soft hand on me. Her touch was was more inspiring than those of an angel.
At this point, I felt she was talking to me, although her eyes travelled between her mug and Grandma. She continued speaking.
“But it’s not about me. I am that person who has a task, a job, a duty to make sure her own has everything needed. Right?
Wrong.
Said like that, I sound like an employee. An employee is obliged to perform in order to get a specific result. But I am a mother, my obligations are part of my will.
You know, it’s true what they say : the smallest things in life bring the greatest joy. This mans’ actions and choices are completely washed away by the simple existence of my little one.
My mind is filled with all the opportunities I can and will give her. It’s filled with infinite thoughts on how brilliant she is, and how much she will learn. How she will make a difference in this world - as she already made one in mine.
My heart beats for her. It beats to the rhythm of her growth and beauty. It will beat hard for the hurtles she will face and even harder for her accomplishments.
Simply said, my soul is overwhelmed by the warmth that this little one brings into my life.
So. I will give her all that is of me. I will support, love and raise her up above and beyond anyone’s expectations - even hers.
I love her.
I just love her.
Like I said, Mom always knew how to make me feel valued and important. When she makes promises, I believe. Daddy may have left us, but Mom is already more than I could ever wish for.
My eyelids may still be sealed shut, my fingernails smaller than rice grains and my days mainly consisting of swimming - but I promise to be the best that I can be when the world is ready to greet me.
I could feel she was done expressing herself with words as her pause grew longer and longer.
Even if I do not have the ability to speak yet, somehow I know she heard me whisper
“I love you too mommy…”
See the rest of the Pregnancy and Children Short Stories
William Y.
