A Letter to my Ex-wife for Mother's Day.

 Dear C,

  Its Mother’s Day tomorrow and I just wanted to say thank you; thank you for our boys. 

  I don’t know exactly what happened between us to make the love of man and wife die, and at this point it doesn't matter anymore.  But, I wanted you to know that I am grateful for the time we did have and I am incredibly grateful for the mother you are and have been to our sons.  Through high times and low times, just by looking into their faces, I can see that they have been very loved by you. 

  I still remember when D arrived.  We were living in that tiny but beautiful apartment in Mira Mesa and he couldn't decide if he was going to come or not.  You were having Braxton Hicks contractions for 2 ½ weeks before he finally decided to make his debut.  I remember being so unsure of anything.  And I still remember the faces of the nurses in the triage ward at the hospital that we came to know so well with so many "false alarm" visits.  I remember hearing D cry for the first time...  I knew beforehand that I loved him, but it was the moment that I heard him cry for the first time that I knew I would do whatever it took in this world to keep him safe.  I remember cooing at him gently and shhhing him and having the nurse tell me that this was wrong -- that they wanted him to cry.  I knew that we would do anything at all to make him know and not just believe that he was and is loved. 

  I remember the look of sheer joy mixed evenly with exhaustion that you wore when you held D for the first time.  There we were, two kids really, now with a kid of our own and not a clue in the world…  Do you remember putting together the crib?  Or that infernal car seat?  Maybe I was too tired to think straight; maybe I was too overwhelmed with “new father syndrome.”  I remember being so frustrated with that stupid car seat and not being able to get the straps to adjust for that little boy. 

  Do you remember that wicker bassinet that we got to go on the king bed between us so that we didn’t have to keep getting up to get D during the night?  Do you remember that time when I had been working such long hours and was soooo tired that I reached over to pick up the baby when he was ready to nurse, not realizing that you had already picked him up and ended up picking up just the blanket?  I remember that snap moment of horror and realization right after I had plunked the bunch of blankets down on my chest and began patting them when I thought I had lost the baby.  Well, sure it’s funny now.

  Even with the colic and the lack of sleep and the frustration of not knowing what we were doing…  Even when “tag teaming” wasn’t working to keep our sanity and we thought our heads would explode, I still knew that we loved that boy and that we always would.  So, thank you. 

  And, look!  It got easier.  E was a breeze, wasn’t he?  We learned from the experience with D how to handle E’s delivery, and it was a cinch… comparatively speaking.  Do you remember right after E was born when D wanted to hold him right away?  You never were much for emotion, but it looked like you were moved close to tears for that moment.  You know, I still remember the day I came home from work and D came running to greet me with a little white, peed-on stick in his hand…  I bet you still have that pregnancy test.  I remember the look on your face of impish delight at your clever “reveal” of our next boy.  And thank you for your understanding and reassurance at the range of emotions that surged in that moment which ranged from sheer joy to utter terror (terror at the thought of repeating the lessons already learned from a hormonal wife, Couvaud Syndrome and a colicky baby). 

  I still remember you coming to retrieve me from work while you were in labor with J.  You were smiling!  Smiling… while in labor!  You were smiling when we checked into the hospital.  You looked like you were checking into a resort.  “Yes, I’ll take the epidural, the chicken marsala for dinner and I’d like turndown service at 6:00 after my tennis lesson.”  Then again, third time’s the charm, I suppose.  The epidural was in before any difficult pain started.  We watched Look Who’s Talking that afternoon right after you got the epi, do you remember?  I think it was that movie that made you decide to stop speaking “baby talk” to the boys.  Do you remember the look on Dr. G’s face when you went from 7 cm to 10 after one contraction?  It was two pushes and Dr. G was saying, “Whoa!  Hold it right there… I have the head.  Just wait a second, now.” 

  You are a good mother.  I want you to know that I know that…

  It doesn’t matter what happened between us or why.  I will always be grateful to you for our three boys and the love that they receive from you.  I will always be grateful for the men they will be, because of you. 

Thank you for our boys.  Happy Mother’s Day.