Letter 6

Dear Miss Peapod,

I have now been writing to you for a week and have discovered it's extremely therapeutic for me.  When I first found out the seed had been planted and you would be an early Christmas present for me, never did I stop to think of the consequences of that gift.  I did not think it would be difficult to have someone else care for you during the day.  When the morning dawned that I watched your father cart you out the door so that I was left to return to the job, I felt an overwhelming feeling of shame and regret because I not only chose to continue my career but because someone else was being charged to raise you.  I felt once again that you were being ripped from my core, but this time, there was no epidural, no pain reliever.  I mean, after all, your journeys with Stephanie far out-weigh the amount of time we are left to journey together. Writing to you eases that pain for me.  Nothing can replace the time we lose together every day, hence the reason I still cry and wonder if I made the right decision in returning to work.  Yet, I know I am doing my best to provide the best and most stable life for you.  You, my good-natured peapod, come first. I am charged with providing you the best shelter, the best nutrients, and the best education available.  To provide, I must be like the Ant in the old fable and continue to work without ceasing. 

Truly missing you peapod,

Mommy