Remebering Jasmine

This is an interesting episode in Manon's life to say the least. My brother is friends with a neighbor who lives down the road. I don't approve much of the boy. His word choice, lifestyle choice, and choice of friends are all contary to what I believe. But he has an older sister who is a nurse and from what I know, a very nice young woman. During the winter, she ran into a situation where it was imperative for her to work a night shift as a nurse. She was in a tight spot because she had a three month old baby for whom no one could care for overnight. To make a long story short, I ended up watching the baby.

Her name was Jasmine, a name of which I heartly disapprove. She was very, very small for three months and everything about her smelled like cigarette smoke. I went to pick her up at her grandparents house, which was huge and lovely. I walked in and was overpowered by the stench of smoke and even more horrified when the grandfather of the baby didn't know what the baby's name was. The lady laying on the couch who could barely lift her head was able to tell me that it was Jasmine. They didn't ask who I was, or who my name was. I grew up in a house where life was precious. Children were to be especially cared for watched over. And here these people were, carelessly sending their tiny newborn grandaughter off with some stranger. I was almost in tears when I got home. Neither one looked at the car I was in, offered any sort of help, or showed any kind of care, affection, or concern for Jasmine.

Then of course I took her home to my mother who had washed her hands and was waiting for the baby. Everyone at home was so curious to see her and impatient to hold her. I tried to get her to sleep on her own. She wouldn't. I fed her, changed her, burped her, whatever, and she would settle down for about twenty minutes. Then she would cry. This happened until about four in the morning maybe. Then finally I let her sleep on my stomach, with her head on my heart. That is how she slept until six o'clock, which is when she was picked up. It was quite awful. I have never slept such a disturbed sleep before in my life. Of course, it was quite good for me too. Any anticipation I had had about having children vanished. And I learned that mothers are tired. Some are tired for years, if they have more than one child. And they are still expected to funtion normally in the real world. I imagine that would be next to impossible.