Looking into my baby's eyes I saw God. I saw her gaze, the gaze newborn babies have moments after they are born… the strong steady glazed over stare… that seems not to focus on anything nevertheless absorbing everything. She looked at me and her gaze pierced me to my soul. I put my hand to my mouth, gasped, "How is it that I became your mom? You are the older soul…teach me to be your Mother."
Chelsea was born 10 pounds and 300 years old, or maybe older.
Chelsea started calling me Mommy when she was four years old, before that she called me, "Corey." She called me Corey probably because when she said, "Maman," I didn't recognize the word as Mother in French. A child knows how to get their Mother's attention.
One of my tenderest memories of Chelsea was when Sacha was born and I had ovarian cancer. French Husband had moments earlier left for work, he told me he was leaving but instead of getting up I had fallen back to sleep. Only for a moment… but when you have a baby and a two and a half year old a moment can be a lifetime. I woke up with a start, knew I had overslept, shook my head and tried to focus. Chelsea (2 1/2) was sitting inside of Sacha's crib (four months old). She had a bottle in one hand and a diaper in the other. She whispered to me, "Sleep little Corey, it is okay. I am taking care of Sacha."
Happy Twentieth Birthday Chelsea Baby (As I call her now and never thought of her as before.)
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