I remember when I gave birth to my youngest child back in 1999. I knew that hers was my last pregnancy, having decided early on to undergo tubal ligation. Ultrasound showed her to be a baby girl, healthy and kicking madly especially towards the last trimester.
I also knew that she is going to be a very special baby and that life will not be easy for her as she grows up. This is because I have already decided that sooner or later, her father and I are going to have to make a decision about our marriage.
It was later than what I thought but sooner than what my children would have liked. Barely old enough to know anything, when she was 3 years old, the inevitable happened: my husband and I decided to separate. Or rather, I decided to push the issue.
My darling Alessandra grew up without a father in the house. My ex-hubby’s visits are sporadic, twice a year at best – Christmas and summer vacations. She would always ask why this and why that and why can’t things be this and that way. Eventually, the questions tapered and only very occasionally would she ask about the whys and whens of our abnormal family life.
As they say, children are more resilient and forgiving than adults. long before I can honestly and completely say that I have moved on, my children have taken life in stride and seemed to be growing up normal and not weighed down with the separation. They look at their dad without resentment but with acceptance of all his shortcomings.
Although much more sensitive than her two siblings, Alessa is a well-rounded , outspoken (not afraid of voicing out her emotions even if this makes her lose face sometimes), hyperactive and a sweet beautiful girl.
Wasn’t there a saying that says to save the good things for last? Alessandra may be my last child but she is definitely not the least.