Dear Little Monkey,
Tonight, I am angry.
It's 2AM. You woke about 45 mins ago and were absolutely certain I hadn't fed you in days. I peeled myself out of my oh-so-comfortable bed. I left the warm arms of the love of my life, gathered you up and came to a cold living room to nurse. (After we made a pit stop at the changing table because you had wet through your diaper, onesie and swaddle blanket.) As you satisfied your tiny tummy hot tears began forming behind my eyes. My head aches and my stomach is tight.
Tonight, I am angry.
Hormones. They might have something to do with it, but I kind of doubt it. I've felt these tears before. Long before you were even an idea in your father and I's mind. They are tears that come when something is wrong. An ache in my forehead and pit of my stomach that tells me something is very unfair, but also that there isn't much I can do about it.
Tonight, I am angry.
You are finished now. Easily you relaxed the tight pinch of your jaw and began breathing deeper, more steadily. You are sound asleep while I sit here trying to control my shallow gasps without waking you. My emotions are raw and I'm wide awake again as is often the norm after your cries at 1 in the morning.
Tonight, I am angry.
Your sweet tiny arm is extended over my chest. I slide a finger under your hand. In your sleep you grip my pinky and I bring your precious fingers up to my lips. I press a lingering kiss on your knuckles and sigh as one of those tears falls to you wrist.
Tonight, I am angry.
Tonight, I am sad.
I am not angry with you. As much as I thought I would hate these interruptions to my sleep I actually find them beautiful. Sometimes when we're here at 2, 3, or 4 in the morning I stare at your handsome face and wonder if I'll ever even need sleep again. I might would rather trace your cheeks with my fingertips, cup your little feet in my hand and stroke your toes with my thumb. (I wonder sometimes at all the places these beautiful little feet will travel.)
Yes. Tonight I am angry, but certainly not with you.
I am angry that I live in a world where you were not protected just 6 months ago. Up until January 11th, 2015 I could have ended your life with absolutely no consequences from the governing body of the county we live in. The government that is supposedly founded on the idea that "all men are created equal." The same one that says it believes that all men are, "endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, (and) among these are Life..." You, my precious son, were not afforded that right for the first 5 months of your life and that makes me angry.
You won't remember it firsthand, but you were born during a huge debate over what equality and those unalienable Rights should look like in our country. That phrase has been waved about in the last couple of months over and over again. However, on January 11th, even though you had a heart that had been beating for around 120 days, you were not considered equal with other men who were older than you. I could have paid someone to stop your heartbeat that day, or any before it, and I would not have had to answer to anyone.
Now, little monkey, I want you to know, that was never something I ever, EVER considered, but unfortunately, not everyone feels the same way. On January 11th, there were babies who were not wanted for one reason or another and on that day (and every day before and after) there were little ones just like you who's hearts were stopped on purpose. They were not allowed their Right to Life, and that is what makes me both angry and sad.
I am sad for all those little lives that have not been allowed to continue. I am sad for all the mommies who feel like they have no choices, no options, but to stop little beating hearts. I am sad for all the lies that are told that ultimately keep little mouths shut forever. I look at you and think back to a day when you had only been being formed for 6 weeks. Your daddy and I held our breath and choked back tears as the doctors tried
To See A Heart Beat and performed various other test to see if you were alive. Then there it was, your tiny beating heart appeared as a pulsing smudge on a screen! I am sad that the world is so messed up that it looks at tiny hearts, arms and legs and simultaneously call them not a human but also fit for research about humans.
Your mommy and daddy are going to do some things in your lifetime to help fix this wrong. It's going to be a topic you'll hear about from us. You'll hear us praying about it. You'll hear us talking about it. You'll see us doing things to try to protect little ones just like you, who can't speak for themselves. It's probably going to make your life different, but don't worry about that little monkey, just snuggle close here with me.
Tonight, I am angry.
Tonight, I am sad.
Tonight I have a clearer understanding of my feelings toward this injustice.
And, tonight I am thankful that your sweet little body is asleep here in my arms.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
UPDATE:
Because I am Angry
