Disclaimer: Scarecrow and Mrs. King is the proberty of Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Productions. This Story is the proberty of my own imangination and is for entertainment purposes only! I retain the right to the plot, not the characters! No Copyright infringement is intendend!
Thank you Lanie for your continuing beta support!
A/N: I would like to ask the readers not to spoil the end in the reviews. Thank you.
Through the eyes of a Mother
I have always wanted to be a mother, preferably of two or maybe three babies. Well, that was my dream of having a family of my own since I was a teenage girl. Now here I am. Still exhausted from giving birth to you I lay in one of those usually uncomfortable hospital beds of the labor and delivery unit, holding you, a tiny vulnerable sleeping bundle in my arms. We are alone for a moment. I gently caress your fine dark, almost black hair while humming a melody that my mother once used to hum when she had hold me in her arms. Your scent is intoxicating and your beauty almost takes my breath away. It's though still a miracle that I hold you in my arms today. The pregnancy had been all but easy and if I had taken the advice the doctor had given me when I was in the first trimester I wouldn't have been here now. Thank God I listened to my instincts. Sometimes I can be pretty stubborn you must know. Your daddy could tell your stories…but you shouldn't believe him everything. Men are used to be genetically predisposed to exaggerate and your daddy is no exception. Tell you what. He's just afraid of being outnumbered by now two stubborn women in his life that's all. Well, not exactly, you literally knocked him off of his feet. Your daddy fainted in the delivery room! Luckily he didn't get injured seriously but he will get a nice bump on the back of his head. The nurse couldn't catch him in time before he hit the floor. He'll survive it. He's a strong and tough guy, maybe sometimes a little mushy but that's fine by me.
Slowly the door opens and my husband pokes his head inside. I motion him to come in. He quietly closes the door and sneaks up to my bed.
Look, Daddy is here. But sshhh…don't tell him about our little secret.
My husband looks at me with one of his famous raised eyebrows as he carefully takes our daughter in his strong and warm arms. At the view of him holding our miracle in his arms I can't stop the tears of happiness from flowing down my cheeks. A nurse enters the room, bringing our daughter's name bracelet. After putting it carefully on,my tears starts to flow again as I read the name onit. Amanda, Jean West, *09-19-1950.