My baby's babies
There is only one person in the world who calls me annecim (Turkish
for mommy). This overgrown baby of mine is almost six feet tall and looks nothing
like me. She has long auburn hair and a Strauss nose, the
trademark of her family. I think
it was round the time of a night of drunkenness at Chez Baptiste I chaperoned
her home or the time I tucked her in when she was staying overnight at my place whilst commuting between Montreal and Sherbrooke that
Marianne started calling me annecim. Though I failed to phone her when she sent me her baby's very first x-ray and I arrived a little
too late for her wedding ceremony at the city hall...I make a perfectly imperfect
mother.
My baby lost her baby. We buried a tiny coffin holding Laeticia on August 8, 2011 at Cimetière Mont-Royal, on Marianne's birthday.
On July 29 I got a text message that said 'Bebek geliyor annecim!' (The baby's coming, mommy!) She was going into labor. "à l'Hôpital St-Luc. Je te tiens au courant. Luvvvvv uuuuu!" (At St-Luc Hospital. I'll keep you posted.) Then silence. Hours later came the news. There were complications. Hospital visit, waiting, tubes attached to a newborn... On August 3 I called Martin, her brother. I sat at the winding stairs of my balcony on that beautiful summer's day. I sobbed.
She'd named Laeticia with Patricia in mind. In our first Turkish lesson I'd asked Marianne the routine 'how many' question. -How many sisters do you have? -Two, now one but...
Yoann was born on June 8, 2013 to Marianne and Mahmut. Even though I was in Montreal around the time of his birth I didn't get to see him.
Two years since Laeticia died, two months since Yoann was born. It is Marianne's birthday. My baby, a mother of two, this is what I want to say to you:... because words disobey me and my mind goes pitch black when I think of the sadness inscribed at the curve of your mouth when you smile... I want to say to you that I love you, in a motherly way of course as I'm the designated annecim. I love you in humble admiration, I have watched you grow beyond any blockbuster sci-fi superhero transformation. I love your Strauss nose. I love your humanitarian efforts in... how shall I say, magical places like the Andes in Peru. I love you full stop. Full force. Head-on. Happy birthday, bebeğim.
On July 29 I got a text message that said 'Bebek geliyor annecim!' (The baby's coming, mommy!) She was going into labor. "à l'Hôpital St-Luc. Je te tiens au courant. Luvvvvv uuuuu!" (At St-Luc Hospital. I'll keep you posted.) Then silence. Hours later came the news. There were complications. Hospital visit, waiting, tubes attached to a newborn... On August 3 I called Martin, her brother. I sat at the winding stairs of my balcony on that beautiful summer's day. I sobbed.
She'd named Laeticia with Patricia in mind. In our first Turkish lesson I'd asked Marianne the routine 'how many' question. -How many sisters do you have? -Two, now one but...
Yoann was born on June 8, 2013 to Marianne and Mahmut. Even though I was in Montreal around the time of his birth I didn't get to see him.
Two years since Laeticia died, two months since Yoann was born. It is Marianne's birthday. My baby, a mother of two, this is what I want to say to you:... because words disobey me and my mind goes pitch black when I think of the sadness inscribed at the curve of your mouth when you smile... I want to say to you that I love you, in a motherly way of course as I'm the designated annecim. I love you in humble admiration, I have watched you grow beyond any blockbuster sci-fi superhero transformation. I love your Strauss nose. I love your humanitarian efforts in... how shall I say, magical places like the Andes in Peru. I love you full stop. Full force. Head-on. Happy birthday, bebeğim.
I am excited to read our past brief summary with your words, from a POV from my fellow citizen, a retroversion from a lady who loves us, who we love, Aysegul!
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