I mentioned my daughter.
Born of me and a woman named Cindy, she came out of her mom's womb and...
She hated every minute of it!
She cried bloody murder! This was not something she wanted... She was crying before she went through the birth cannal. If I could have taken away from the doctor I would have becasue shew was not looking very happy!
Even before she was out of the birth canal...she began to cry. Her first cry. I remember that cry. It had a destinctive rhythm to it. It was a rhythm that was so familiar. Did I cry like that? No. It's her cry... but, it's so familiar...
Then, I knew exactly what was going on. I either allowed myself or it was something so natural that I would know that cry forever. And her cry... even when she was much older had this distinctive rhythm. Wow! It suddenly dawned on me that that cry would be known for the rest of my life! She could be an adult and cryng and I would know that cry! Even out of a hundred crying babies I would be able to locate her... find her...
I started thinking? Wait a minute? Isn't this something that mothers find? It needed no answer. I knew my baby daughter's cry. Something special was happening to me... and I could feel in my bones that this was completely and utterly right!
She basicall thrown on Mom... to smell her... VIcky's voice exploding in anger frustration, fear... and all I could feel was... That's my daughter! If any of you hurt her in anyway...I will kill you!!
As I was thinking that, she was taken to the nurses who put her on a stainless steel platform with a giat heat light to get her warm. The first thing I thought was when I worked at a fast food place... and maybe I should never worked there becasue she looked like a basket of fries... to be dealed up to the next customer... as she was crying as loud as should could!
"Vicky is not a giant batch fries to be salted and given to the next hungry mouth that comes by. That's my daughter, your divying up!"
She was placed on this stainless steel thing with the heat lamp and they washed her and put junk in her eyes... "And, that cry was saying Daddy get me out of here!"
It took all of my restraint to keep from killing each nurse one by one and all the interesting torture devices... like taking them one by one, tying their hair and pulling up off the ground agony... and that merciful thing I could think of!
Then... the blood test! No! No! Not sticky thing? Look for the vain with needle and draw blood not that... OUCH! Have you ever had to stick your fingers with one of those things to get a drop of blood? (OK. Diabetics look at that type of thing and see that like as nothing more than pushing a button on a stereo to get their favorite song... but, in the knee of Victoria? The rack for all the nurses... stowly torturing them... confessions... who cares... who cares...torture
She was screaming! I knew the scream... no parent had to interpret it! "I don't like this!"
Then after first torturous bath... (no wonder I alway am hesitant to go in a hot water bath at first,) she was wrapped in blankits. She seemed to like that... but her face was, That's nice...But I hate this... And then the moment came!
You have to understand that her Mom was exhausted. Just a short few moments on top of her and she was wisked away... a hard pregnancy... but, they told me how to hold her and I held her so she could see me.
Silence. Absolute silence.
I looked down upon my little baby girl. Just not any baby, but, you see I wished for a girl. I never saw one grow up. My sister who moved out when I was 5... gone. My best a dependable friend, a girl, who never lived with me, though she like an adopted sister. A little girl to actually see grow up. See her explore the world, start talking as she walked and would keep talking a running... never stopping... a girl to run around the house pretending I was a monster. A girl who I could actually try my best...
[ Continued ]