On November 10, 2003 at six thirty six am, my mother, Mrs. Fannie Ware Reynolds Paris, lay in a small hospital bed, cradled in my arms. The last tears she would ever shed glistened wetly upon her adored face. She was still and silent with a smile just barely touching the lips that would never again smile at me or kiss my forehead or scold me or praise me. Although her body was still warm to the touch, she wasn't with me. Mommy didn't live here anymore.
Like an orphan lost, I picked up the phone and called my Dion. "No, no, no, no, nononononononononononononno!" I moaned. I don't know what he said or if he said anything, but I do remember hanging up, and falling on the floor and hugging myself and rocking back and forth and crying out to God. I remember wondering what I was to do next. I remember a nurse. I remember my Aunt Kathy trying to get me to cry because I wouldn't go home. I remember Carl showing up at home and my Tanya and Chucky and Amy and Frankie and Matt and Moms and Pops and Uncle Brad. Dear God, I remember Uncle Brad and Aunt Kathy. My rocks. But I don't remember anything else from that moment on.
I don't remember how the kids got to school or what they ate, or if they went to the doctor's. I don't remember if I worked, or even my Dion's kisses. I don't remember Aaron's birthday or how, exactly Kee Kee and Ky Ky moved in next door. I am missing from my memory every single thing from November 19, 2003 until November of 2004. I have impressions of faces, I remember friends and family. I remember screams and shouts and my bedroom. I remember feeling safe and secure in my bedroom. To my best recollection, I believe I was under the impression that I'd died with my mother and needed to be reborn into a whole person. Separate and unique unto her self.
Months and months later, I was at the Hyden house picking up the children from one family function or another when Verna, my mother in law said something horrible to me. "Mary, you need to get your nose from out of that book and interact with your children! So you lost your mother? I lost mine. In fact I resent that you had your mother for so long. Mine died when she was only fifty. Your's lived til she was 83! What is wrong with you?"
I don't remember what happened before that day, but I remember every single thing from the second that horrid sentence left that woman's mouth. I started to FEEL again, and with feeling came grief so powerful, for the only time in my life, I thought God had abandoned me and thought it might be better all around if I ended it all.
One particular night, I am ashamed to say, I had it all planned out. I would wait until Dion went to sleep, walk downstairs, grab a handful of dad's pain pills and Judy Garland myself. Dion started to fall asleep and I started to think about my daddy dying, my sister dying and my mommy dying. I started to feel how it felt to be an orphan again. I started to feel my kids confusion that I didn't love them enough to stick it out. I started to feel like, maybe offing myself wasn't such a good idea after all.
So for the twentieth time that night, I prayed for God to forgive me, to make me whole again and for me to be able to love unconditionally again. I fell asleep still praying and dreamed.
I dreamt my daddy and my mommy and my sissy were huddled around a pink bassinet. In the bassinet was a small beam of light. They took turns kissing the beam of light and talking to it and cooing at it. As I approached, my daddy recognized me first and motioned me closer. Then my sister, then mommy. Someone was whispering in my ear, "this is your heart. This is your love. This is yours."
Daddy embraced me, and it felt so real, so solid. He still smelled like his aftershave. He said in his booming voice, "If you go to bed at night and she doesn't smile, you didn't do your job."
Sissy embraced me, smelling like that citrus perfume we'd purchased in Orlando back in the nineties, "If you don't give her to Jesus, Guppy Lips, you didn't do your job."
Mommy embraced me hardest, full of White Linen. "MaryAnn. I bent you to steel. I raised you to anger. I guided you to rage. You are who you are DESPITE it all and I love you. If you do to her what I did to you, you didn't do your job."
I woke up and looked at the clock. Only about fifteen minutes since I'd started praying and yet I felt so much better! I felt relief, I felt purposeful. I felt ALIVE.
All of a sudden, I felt confused and those healing feelings disappeared. "God, they said I couldn't have anymore babies. So what did that dream mean?"
For three days I mourned what I couldn't have and just as I was starting to contemplate ending it again, something in me bucked up and said, "Read the bible." I flipped around for a bit and read about Sara and Abraham. I read around some more and read about "Ask and ye shall receive." and then when it was time to lay in my bed again, I turned to Dion and said, "I am going to die. I am going to kill myself. If you want me to live, give me life. Give me new purpose. Give me a baby." to which he answered, "We're broke. You don't want a baby. The doctor said you couldn't have anymore. Give it up." So I replied, "Well, let's practice making one and put it in God's hands."
One month to the day, I missed my period.
This was not uncommon to me. I've been known to miss an entire year of periods. That's where Aaron came from. Dion pointed this out to me on day one of my missed period. But in my heart of hearts, I knew. I stopped smoking immediately and cold turkey with no side effects. I put myself on a healthy diet and started taking long walks to stay healthy and as low risk as possible. Dion made me wait two weeks before I saw the doctor. But I knew. I knew her name, her face and that she was going to be a her. I knew her and I loved her.
After the doctor confirmed what I already knew, I was elated. For ten months, I had no symptoms, unfortunately I was high risk and okay with that because I was in love. I gave her everything before she was born. Clothes, bassinets, love. I played classical music and gospel to my belly. I ate well and talked to her and sang to her. I loved her.
Exactly six years ago at 2:36pm my miracle baby was born. She was ten pounds, eight ounces of wriggling love. I carefully picked her name the way I did in order to remember what was told to me in that long ago dream. My Lara Laughs. Lara-Alice Vernae Paris-Hyden: L.A.V.P.H. Go ahead, try and pronounce it.
For six years, I have poured understanding, generosity, love, guidance, spirit, independence, creativity, God, family, honor, patience, acceptance and happiness into her. For six years I have sent my baby to bed having made her smile some kind of way that day with a light heart, for six years she has been God's and for six years I have watched my Princess Yaya, grow from an infant never far from my heart, to toddler that loved to pick flowers and stopped for every rubber band she saw on the street so that they wouldn't feel alone. I've watched her grow into a little fashionista, a loving big sister, a person with such a pure soul that I cry whenever I think of how wonderful she is.
No, Lara didn't save me, God saved me for Lara. One day world, the woman that is in my charming, sweet, adoring, adorable, God Kissed child will knock your socks off.
Happy birthday my sweet Princess, God's third personal gift package sent directly to my heart. Mommy loves you from now until forever!
Like an orphan lost, I picked up the phone and called my Dion. "No, no, no, no, nononononononononononononno!" I moaned. I don't know what he said or if he said anything, but I do remember hanging up, and falling on the floor and hugging myself and rocking back and forth and crying out to God. I remember wondering what I was to do next. I remember a nurse. I remember my Aunt Kathy trying to get me to cry because I wouldn't go home. I remember Carl showing up at home and my Tanya and Chucky and Amy and Frankie and Matt and Moms and Pops and Uncle Brad. Dear God, I remember Uncle Brad and Aunt Kathy. My rocks. But I don't remember anything else from that moment on.
I don't remember how the kids got to school or what they ate, or if they went to the doctor's. I don't remember if I worked, or even my Dion's kisses. I don't remember Aaron's birthday or how, exactly Kee Kee and Ky Ky moved in next door. I am missing from my memory every single thing from November 19, 2003 until November of 2004. I have impressions of faces, I remember friends and family. I remember screams and shouts and my bedroom. I remember feeling safe and secure in my bedroom. To my best recollection, I believe I was under the impression that I'd died with my mother and needed to be reborn into a whole person. Separate and unique unto her self.
Months and months later, I was at the Hyden house picking up the children from one family function or another when Verna, my mother in law said something horrible to me. "Mary, you need to get your nose from out of that book and interact with your children! So you lost your mother? I lost mine. In fact I resent that you had your mother for so long. Mine died when she was only fifty. Your's lived til she was 83! What is wrong with you?"
I don't remember what happened before that day, but I remember every single thing from the second that horrid sentence left that woman's mouth. I started to FEEL again, and with feeling came grief so powerful, for the only time in my life, I thought God had abandoned me and thought it might be better all around if I ended it all.
One particular night, I am ashamed to say, I had it all planned out. I would wait until Dion went to sleep, walk downstairs, grab a handful of dad's pain pills and Judy Garland myself. Dion started to fall asleep and I started to think about my daddy dying, my sister dying and my mommy dying. I started to feel how it felt to be an orphan again. I started to feel my kids confusion that I didn't love them enough to stick it out. I started to feel like, maybe offing myself wasn't such a good idea after all.
So for the twentieth time that night, I prayed for God to forgive me, to make me whole again and for me to be able to love unconditionally again. I fell asleep still praying and dreamed.
I dreamt my daddy and my mommy and my sissy were huddled around a pink bassinet. In the bassinet was a small beam of light. They took turns kissing the beam of light and talking to it and cooing at it. As I approached, my daddy recognized me first and motioned me closer. Then my sister, then mommy. Someone was whispering in my ear, "this is your heart. This is your love. This is yours."
Daddy embraced me, and it felt so real, so solid. He still smelled like his aftershave. He said in his booming voice, "If you go to bed at night and she doesn't smile, you didn't do your job."
Sissy embraced me, smelling like that citrus perfume we'd purchased in Orlando back in the nineties, "If you don't give her to Jesus, Guppy Lips, you didn't do your job."
Mommy embraced me hardest, full of White Linen. "MaryAnn. I bent you to steel. I raised you to anger. I guided you to rage. You are who you are DESPITE it all and I love you. If you do to her what I did to you, you didn't do your job."
I woke up and looked at the clock. Only about fifteen minutes since I'd started praying and yet I felt so much better! I felt relief, I felt purposeful. I felt ALIVE.
All of a sudden, I felt confused and those healing feelings disappeared. "God, they said I couldn't have anymore babies. So what did that dream mean?"
For three days I mourned what I couldn't have and just as I was starting to contemplate ending it again, something in me bucked up and said, "Read the bible." I flipped around for a bit and read about Sara and Abraham. I read around some more and read about "Ask and ye shall receive." and then when it was time to lay in my bed again, I turned to Dion and said, "I am going to die. I am going to kill myself. If you want me to live, give me life. Give me new purpose. Give me a baby." to which he answered, "We're broke. You don't want a baby. The doctor said you couldn't have anymore. Give it up." So I replied, "Well, let's practice making one and put it in God's hands."
One month to the day, I missed my period.
This was not uncommon to me. I've been known to miss an entire year of periods. That's where Aaron came from. Dion pointed this out to me on day one of my missed period. But in my heart of hearts, I knew. I stopped smoking immediately and cold turkey with no side effects. I put myself on a healthy diet and started taking long walks to stay healthy and as low risk as possible. Dion made me wait two weeks before I saw the doctor. But I knew. I knew her name, her face and that she was going to be a her. I knew her and I loved her.
After the doctor confirmed what I already knew, I was elated. For ten months, I had no symptoms, unfortunately I was high risk and okay with that because I was in love. I gave her everything before she was born. Clothes, bassinets, love. I played classical music and gospel to my belly. I ate well and talked to her and sang to her. I loved her.
Exactly six years ago at 2:36pm my miracle baby was born. She was ten pounds, eight ounces of wriggling love. I carefully picked her name the way I did in order to remember what was told to me in that long ago dream. My Lara Laughs. Lara-Alice Vernae Paris-Hyden: L.A.V.P.H. Go ahead, try and pronounce it.
For six years, I have poured understanding, generosity, love, guidance, spirit, independence, creativity, God, family, honor, patience, acceptance and happiness into her. For six years I have sent my baby to bed having made her smile some kind of way that day with a light heart, for six years she has been God's and for six years I have watched my Princess Yaya, grow from an infant never far from my heart, to toddler that loved to pick flowers and stopped for every rubber band she saw on the street so that they wouldn't feel alone. I've watched her grow into a little fashionista, a loving big sister, a person with such a pure soul that I cry whenever I think of how wonderful she is.
No, Lara didn't save me, God saved me for Lara. One day world, the woman that is in my charming, sweet, adoring, adorable, God Kissed child will knock your socks off.
Happy birthday my sweet Princess, God's third personal gift package sent directly to my heart. Mommy loves you from now until forever!
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