I thought they were rushing me out of the room, but instead, they are just rushing me across the room to a special table. They’re stitching her up since they had to cut her open to get me out. From what I can hear, she’s fine. I, however, am apparently a real mess. The tumor pressed on a side of my skull and half of my face appears smushed. They’ve called a specialist. They’re just cleaning me up, making me comfortable, they’re afraid to touch my head. Good grief.
As one of the nurses is gently wiping my eyes, I open my lids a little to peek out. Except for that first moment when I dared to look for “him,” my soul mate who is meeting me here, I’ve had my eyes closed. That little peep and the scream were enough for me. The voices were right, it’s really bright out here after being in the dark for so long.
“This isn’t right. No way.” I hear one of the nurses say.
“Why, what’s wrong?” someone one else asks. She’s gently wiping my face and I open my eyes a bit wider to look at her.
“She’s got lovely brown eyes, how unusual with her bright red hair!”
“Really? Brown eyes? Well, that’s not the only thing unusual thing about it!” someone chortles.
“What are you laughing about?’ someone else asks.
At that moment someone enters the room in a rush and is suddenly at my side. “Oh, hello Doctor,” one of the nurses says as she makes room for this rather giant of a man to get close to me. He begins to gently push on my head; he’s working all around where the tumor was. It doesn’t hurt, but it doesn’t feel good either. I don’t fuss; I know this is my fault in the first place, so I take my due. I hear my guardian angels whispering in the background; I guess he’s doing good work.
“What time was she born,” the Doctor working on me asks.”
“Oh shoot!” exclaims one of the nurses, “I forgot to write it down! We weren’t ready for a live birth! We thought the fetus was dead. “
“Why was that?” the Doctor asks.
“The tumor was blocking her pre-natal doctor from hearing the baby’s heartbeat. She’s been living at her Mother’s for 2 weeks waiting for the baby to arrive. She kept saying the due date was several weeks ago, but based on this little girl’s weight, she seems on target.” The nurse lowers her voice and whispers “We think she had an affair; there’s a good chance this baby’s right on time. That tumor confused things. In addition to messing up her precious little head!”
Finally, he stops and steps back to admire his handiwork. “There,” he says, “Good as new! I’ll be back tomorrow to check on her. Don’t show her to the Mother yet; let’s wait a few days, or at least until tomorrow. I’ll sign off when she’s ready.”
One of the nurses moves back in and starts wiping me off again, also admiring his work. “Yes, Doctor, she’s ok isn’t she? Lovely, just lovely. Great job, Doctor!.” And with that, he was off, as quickly as he had arrived.
Oh thank you, Heaven Above, I think to myself. What had I been thinking?! Well, no matter, I sure dodged that one though. I am very aware I had help. Lots of help.
Now it was just me and the two nurses. Everyone working on my mother and she, are gone. As they are working on me, cleaning and then dressing me in a little snuggly and wrapping me tight in a blanket, they whispered.
“What was that Dr. laughing about, saying that wasn’t the only unusual thing?” the one nurse asked.
“Oh,” glancing around, making sure they were alone, “I think he thinks the mom must have had an affair.”
“What makes him think that?!
“She has a photograph she carries of her and her husband; they both have blue eyes. Very blue, very light. Both of them.”
“But, this little girl has brown eyes. How is that possible.”
“Right, hence the Doctor’s remarks. The Mom must have had an affair; that’s the only way.”
All the while, I’ve been listening. I remember something about this from when I was still inside her. It’s all tangled up with the lies; all her lies about my due date and all that! Now I understand! I close my eyes and ask for my Angels to come. I immediately feel them with me.
“We’re here. How are you? What can we do for you?”
“What about what these nurses have talked about? What’s the deal with the brown eyes? I remember something, but not enough. I don’t understand.”
“It isn’t really important, except that eventually, it will become important to you. At that point, if your eyes are blue, you’ll lose your way. You’ll lose your confidence. You’ll abandon your mission, or at least there’s a risk. So, we had to make sure you had brown eyes, and your Mother blew that when she married your Dad.”
“But why is it important; why do I care?”
“One of the things that makes you ideal for your mission is you are incredibly smart, and inquisitive. You wonder about everything. It’s what makes it easy for you to grasp the true reality of reality, or perhaps better stated, lack of reality. You officially learn of the affair from your Mother when you are about nine, and then through your Biology class you learn that the stories she’s been telling you are true. Genetically, it’s not possible for your parents to have produced you. From the time you’re 13, you know that your Dad is not your dad. Years later, many years, at a rather critical time, you learn that blue eyes are a mutation; they are actually no color at all. If you dissect a brown eye, you find the color brown inside. If you dissect a blue eye, you find no color. What happens is at a critical time in the unfolding of the Grand Plan, of which you play a key role, you hear a scientific report about eye color, and what causes the differences in colors. Originally we all had brown eyes. Then someone had the idea of changing our design, and there were suddenly people with blue eyes. Sadly there was a time in recent history when people had a war over eye color. Your role is so key, you would not feel a part of the greater whole, even though you still would be. We are all one, all part of the same larger whole. Your eye color in the Grande Scheme of things, is meaningless. Like I said, this is all just for you, to help reassure you.”
“Won’t everyone know?”
“Won’t everyone know that my Dad’s not my dad? That my mother is a….is an adulteress? ”
“Well…….er…….ah……….yes, we suppose……some. Some will raise their eyebrows, but most won’t ever realize they are your parents.”
“Wait a minute! WHAT???? Why???? I KNEW I didn’t want this host, what a mess!”
“Oh calm down, you’re always so dramatic (you get that from your genitic father by the way)! Your parents are on the old side for having kids; your Mother is going to turn 40 in February, just 2 months from now. Most people are going to look at her and them, and think they’re your Grandparents, so don’t worry so much.”
“Others will know; my teachers, parents of my friends” I said pouting.
“Oh don’t worry so much! Who cares what other people think! You need to get that through your head, you know. You are on a mission, an assignment, a job to do. Just stay focused on that. Everything else will always work out. Just have faith. We’re always here, making sure.”
I take a deep breath down into my belly and exhale slowly. I know they’ve taken off, leaving me here alone to deal with my situation. It’s a lot to absorb and think about. It’s not really pertinent to the moment I guess unless of course my Dad is a smart man and knows his biology. Hmm, let’s see, what do I know about him again? Oh, that’s right, he’s an Engineer on the oil fields in Saudi Arabia. Gee, pretty good chance he’s going to know. Wonder how that’s going to go? She’s going to have some explaining to do…….Oh, well that might be fun!
“Well, time to take this little one down to the maternity ward.”
“Oh, wait! Shoot, shoot, shoot! I forgot this paperwork! What time was she born!?! What time is it now? How long has it been?”
“Just write this time.”
“But that’s not right; she’s been here for a while now…..has it been a half hour?”
“I don’t know, just pick a time! I want to go! It’s after 5pm, I’m out of here!”
“Ok, ok! Um….4:42, that’s what I’ll use! It might have been earlier than that, maybe 4:32pm maybe even 4:24pm; I’m just not sure. Has it been that long?”
“I don’t know! Write down 4:42pm! Good, now let’s go!”
I drift off to sleep as they carry me to the room where all the other babies are. What was all that about with the time of birth, I wondered. We arrive in a room full of babies. Wow, what a fussy lot this is……how am I ever going to rest and think in here!? Then it wasn’t an issue after all because I fell into a deep sleep.
Until Next Time Dear Reader,
❤ LAMP ❤
P.S. I welcome your comments and questions!