************************************************************************** This author's e-mail address has changed to: damienma@netroenterprises.com ************************************************************************** From: Jori Date: Wed, 16 Sep 1998 04:40:22 GMT Subject: NEW: Sons and Mothers: "I Made This" Title: Sons and Mothers: "I Made This" Author: Jori Category: Vignette Spoilers: none Summary: Teena Mulder's POV on her son and the changes a single child can bring to the world Rating: PG Archive: Yes, sure, whatever. Disclaimer: They belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. I am just using them to amuse myself for an evening. *************************************************** I often wonder who here understands how we can change the world. One single act can give rise to the end of the world or the creation of a better one. Do parents realize this before their children are born? It is so easy. Sperm meets egg. An unheard, unseen, unfelt shift in the universe takes place. So fundamentally simple, yet it is the richest and most complex act in all humanity. In a flash, everything you are, everything you could be, was created. The world was changed with that one tiny act of two cells joining and dividing. Two becomes one and one becomes billions. Simple biology that can be the catalyst to change life as we know it. Did I consider these things when I was pregnant with you or did these thoughts come much later? Do parents ever think that this might be the person who grows up to kill millions, or to save millions from some dreaded disease? I suppose the thought crossed my mind way back then. I knew you first. I had the gift only mothers can have. I felt your first kick. I felt your first hiccups. You were mine first. You were mine alone. We were two persons in one. I also knew the delicious joy of anticipation that comes with expecting the first child, before one knows what they are truly getting involved in. What you would look like was determined before I even knew of you. Male. Brown hair. Hazel eyes. All decided by some complex code that we still don't fully comprehend. But was every aspect of you created in that instant? Your IQ, your dry humor, your loyalty? Did that little baby looking up at me as he suckled on his bottle really already possess those characteristics? I don't know the answers. All I know is I changed the world by creating you. And I believe it was for the better. Do you believe that, too? You were such a beautiful baby. You were my baby. You still are. I remember that little scrunched up face and those all-knowing eyes when I first saw you. "I made this?" was all I could think. I had help, of course. You were such an unexpected joy to me. Do you even know that? From the moment I first saw you, I wanted everything for you. I wanted so much for your world to be bright and joyous. I wanted you to grow up, find love and have babies of your own. I wanted to raise someone's husband and someone's father. I still hope that day comes. I was so proud I had a boy. So proud to have given your father a son. He didn't want children. That's not to say he didn't love you. He did. He just knew what the future could hold for you better than I did. I had expected that you would be William Mulder, Jr., but the name Fox came out of somewhere. I know you don't like your name now, but do you remember how you used to like to hear it roll off the tongues of those pre-teen girls always hanging around? I can still hear them. "See you later, Fox," they would say, with voices not sounding old enough to be saying by son's name in such a way. Those glossy girls of summer who would one day want more than I cared to imagine. You were a happy child. That is before the darkness descended upon this family. You were so bright. I remember someone trying to go over the alphabet with you when you were three. You were so terribly disappointed that someone would even suggest you didn't know your ABCs. Of course, we had trouble with colors, but we figured that out soon enough. I also remember my boiling anger as I told you that any three year old who could recognize and name all the presidents could figure out how to use the potty. You informed me you didn't have time to use it. And then you smiled that smile of yours. It always got me. Even through that ever-present pacifier. Your father's work always took him away from us. I think he preferred it that way. I was happy at home with you. Do you remember those years? Do you remember our summers? We would explore the water's edge for hours, splashing in and out all day. You would be a sun-kissed brown by the end of the first week. Your hair would be sun-bleached to light brown by the end of summer. We would have early suppers of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup and you would wonder if Daddy would be home that night. Then we would read books and play games. Sometimes we would turn off all the lights and chase each other with flashlights. Then I'd have to convince you that there weren't any creatures living beneath the bathtub drain and that monsters never lurked under beds. You would always end up in bed with me, so I guess I wasn't very convincing. Little did I know you'd chase those monsters for the rest of your life. You grew up so fast from that baby boy wearing a sun suit and carrying a pail while running down the shore. Soon you were my boy playing team sports and riding around on his bike for hours and spouting facts from books I didn't even know existed. A blink of an eye. It all goes so fast. You had your tag-along little sister. You never seemed to mind too much, even when she would purposefully try to drive you crazy. I remember the hours you spent under some makeshift bed sheet fort teaching her to read. She loved you so much. She was gone too soon. Never blame yourself for this, for it is something that can't be changed. The already shaky foundation our family was built on was shattered into thousands of razor sharp pieces. I'm afraid you took the brunt of it. What should have been the glorious days of your teen aged years turned into something else. They weren't as bad as they could have been, but I know they could have been better. So much sadness was carried by so few people. Then you were gone, too. You were grown and no longer needed me or your family. You ran as far away as you could go. England. An ocean away. Someone who once resided under my heart now resided an ocean away. I would look over that water's edge where we once played and cry for you. I would scream to the heavens, begging for another chance to make it all right. Second chances rarely come in this world, especially with children. Now you come back to me, but only for answers I cannot give. All I can assure you of is my love for you. It will never end. You try to change the world, to make it into what you think will be a better place. Who is to say what better is. I set off this spark that wants the world to see the light. All I can do now is sit back and say "I made this." The End Author's notes: I'm sorry if I changed the Mama Mulder relationship a little. I think I was going on universal feelings a mother has for her son. Mine is only two, so I don't yet know how he is going to change the world. I hope it is for the better, though. And I surely know he has changed mine everyday. E-Mail: Damienma@bellsouth.net All feedback is greatly appreciated. Be nice, though, or I'll send my toddler to your house.