A Brand New Year

My heart was broken after the death of Ashley, my beautiful little girl, my dream. Because of the black void in my life, I was consumed by thoughts of having another child. I have read that when a person has a limb amputated they are still able to feel it. I could feel the way she felt in my arms, her smell and her serenely, beautiful face. I physically ached for her. Unbeknownst to my new husband, Ashley’s father, I tried to conceive another baby. It was an all consuming desire to have a new dream, a new baby, a new sense of completeness.

Within two years I discovered that I would finally have the child I so desired. I loved the feeling of life growing inside of me. On December 31, 1986, I went into the hospital for a scheduled Cesarean. As I lay anesthitized, I dreamed that when I awoke I would be holding Ashley in my arms, as if the last 2 ½ years had never happened. When the effects of the anesthesia wore off, the knowledge that Ashley was gone forever was overwhelming. Thankfully, however, the doctor told me that I had given birth to a little girl, Megan. I had a brand new little girl for a brand new year. My celebration of life, laughter and love.

Miss Megan was the most beautiful baby I had ever laid eyes on. As was customary, she had only a small of amount of hair, pale blonde, but her head was perfect (the shapes of heads in our family was always worrisome to my family). Megan’s eyes were the brightest, most sparkling blue. Nurses would comment on this, naming her “Bright Eyes.” She loved to be held, spoken to and rocked for hours on end. She was also perfectly content to lay in her crib and studying her surroundings.

As she grew older, she was imaginative, audacious, zealous. She had a habit of testing her limits and mine. She was, above all, loving and affectionate. My mom has always said that you didn’t visit with Megan, you wore her. That has always been my favorite trait of hers. She, along with her younger brother, filled the void in my life. She completes me.

Now my Miss Megan has a daughter of her own, Little Layla. I only pray that they never have to survive the ordeals that her feminine ancestors had been afflicted. I hope that they may lead a happy life, filled with laughter and love.