Love is not words, it’s actions, and love isn’t feelings, it’s a decision.”--Steven Furtick.
Serwa's story part III: I found a friend and a helper. Our loyalty and love trump everything.
I was worried about Paris's divorce and how that would affect our fertility treatment. Then I reflected over it and caught myself projecting.
Paris was in better emotional health than I. Her parents appear to be still in love after four decades of marriage, and they assist her with everyday needs. She has a second home in OK and a third in N.Y. Her ex, Peter, is addicted to video games, but he is an active father and from a "stable" family.
Mine was the opposite and different. Jordan moved into my apartment when we were dating, and he was in training and had a low income. After his training, he made four times my income but chose not to pay his share of the household bills.
After we married, I continued to pay the mortgage for our two-bedroom apartment and other bills. Why? We were both from dysfunctional homes.
I do not blame him but me.
I lacked a sense of self and put up with a man like my father. My mom worked a lot to pay our bills, while my father worked harder to build mansions for his relatives in Africa.
Now, I am wiser. I learned many life lessons from my divorce--the change was good. I reflected on my life and investigated my family background-- working hard to drop unproductive family habits and enjoy the good ones. I chose not to blame Jordan or point fingers at my family. It started with me.
The first embryo transfer kicked in, and I won the lotto.
Paris traveled more to work for a few months, so hiding the pregnancy from her young children was easy. Her children were under seven, and she thought they did not need to know yet. However, our parents knew, and they were supportive.
At 31 weeks, Paris traveled to N.Y. She had an apartment in NYC and worked from home. At 38 weeks, she delivered my baby at Mount Sinai Hospital, and they handed her over to me. My friend looked at the baby and softly said, "She is yours, and I am her aunt." We cried and laughed.
I named my baby Love Paris Serwa'Kofi.
After a few days, Paris went back to OK. She was healthy and a miracle worker. I stayed in her apartment with my baby and mom for four weeks before returning to OK. My baby is a New Yorker. It cannot get better than that.
But two people caring for an infant was difficult. Parenting is not easy. And I second-guessed my decision to adopt a child.
My mom shared her experience raising three of us and reminded me that caring for an infant was for a short time. She added, "Raising a child without a disability lasts six years. By six, she knows how to eat, play, dress, and ask you questions." I envied her because she had it easier than some new mothers I know in the U.S.
I loved my baby but caring for an infant was more challenging than anything I have ever done.
Please be careful what you say to parents if you are not a parent or have never had a child sleeping under your roof for a few weeks.
It was easy to care for Paris' children occasionally, but different from when my baby lived with me. All the same, I took it one day at a time.
We breastfed the baby.
We went back home to OK. I was surprised that my mom didn't want to leave N.Y., but she had a plan. She applied for a job there and planned to move. Was she divorcing her husband? She has a choice and a well-sought-after professional skill in N.Y.- Nursing.
Love Paris Sewa'Kofi is a year old.
I had my baby, and everyone helped me raise my infant. And after a year, I am still thinking about how to thank my friend, her children, and her parents.
Everyone is grateful for what Paris did for me. My parents call her angel. Her parents are proud of the woman she is. My friend did what I didn't think anyone could have done. True love is doing for others what they can't do for themselves.
My life is fun with Paris on my side. We love, Love Paris Serwa'Kofi.
Dear Readers,
Thank you for reading my story.
Love is your action. It is what we do to ourselves and others. I learned from Paris that I could be creative in ways to help others. Paris thought out of the box and allowed me to have a child.
Her time and spirit are what I cannot explain. But hope is real; love is real. I am here to tell you that true love exists in us and others; keep hope alive.
The theater of friendship, our ultimate secrets, love, and loyalty for one another trump everything. Not even our emptiness or failed marriages could stop us--true love.
Happy friendship,
Serwa.
From the author
Any relationship needs a lot of work and sacrifice by all involved to be meaningful. What do you think? How is your friendship?
Remember, this story is a work of fiction, and I hope we learn something from each character.
I invite you to come back next week for a new story. I appreciate you.
Serwa's story is fiction and was first published on another website. I appreciate you joining the conversation. Share your view below. Thank you.
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