A Letter to My Little Baby

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A Letter to My Little Baby

Dear little baby,

Your journey started on a day that we didn’t have any protection left at home. I remember your daddy saying, “We’ll do it without the condom this time.” Well, now you know it was him who made the decision. (Somehow he remembers it differently.) Anyhow, at the time I didn’t think anything happened; we even went to Vegas for a few days and got very drunk. But after a few weeks, something was so different with me. My boobs were huge and I was peeing all the time. I even found myself sitting on the toilet one day and asking “Why do I have to pee so often? Am I sick?” The possibility of pregnancy was like a big light bulb switching on right in front of my eyes. I did a stick test and saw the two lines; I thought “What the hell?” Was it possible? This was like a miracle of nature and it felt so magical. There are no words to describe it, actually. I did want to tell someone desperately, but decided to postpone the news for your daddy until he came home in the evening. I called my gynecologist’s office and the lady there told me to get prenatal vitamins and get my blood tested for pregnancy hormones. It was too early for an ultrasound. I went to Barnes & Noble and bought a book on pregnancy. I also did another stick test just to make sure. In the evening there was the jingling of keys at the door, it was your daddy. I asked him to close his eyes and I put the stick with my urine on it into his hand. He looked at it; his eyes said he didn’t know what he was looking at. After a few seconds the same big bulb turned on in his eyes. We hugged …

I did get my blood tested every other day and finally we went in for our first ultrasound. I guess we were expecting too much. There was no identifiable form of human body on the screen, just a tiny heartbeat. Spreading the news to the extended family was a tough decision. I had always dreamed of being pregnant by the time I turned thirty so that I would be focused on the prospect of a baby and wouldn’t realize my twenties were over. (Not that I am obsessed with my youth or looking young, per se.) I still wanted to wait to give my parents the news until I turned thirty. Somehow, being thirty when you are having a baby sounded more mature. Apparently, we seek love and support from our parents no matter how old we are. I told my sister, though, actually I couldn’t even tell her, but I made her guess (I was still feeling uneasy saying the words “I’m pregnant”). On my 30th birthday there was an email from my dad. It read: “Thirty years ago today at a hospital corridor I heard a baby scream and that scream made me the happiest man on earth.” So I wrote back, “Daddy, I hope you’ll be as happy when you hear another scream seven months from now.” He replied with one word “OOOLLLEEEYYY.”

In a few weeks we went in for a second ultrasound, which was actually a genetic test. There we saw you. We saw you; you had arms, legs, a brain, everything. We even saw the sole of your right foot which was so cute. It felt so good knowing that you will most likely be a healthy normal kid. That was the only thing on my mind up to that point: you having an easy healthy life and being happy at school and with your relationships and being able to enjoy life.

Well, the pregnancy process is not always painted in pink. As my pregnancy advanced, lethargy was sinking in, due to a hormonal imbalance. I used to lie on the couch for hours day after day, watching TV if not sleeping. Even going to the bathroom was like torture. Thank God, I wasn’t working at the time. Due to the economic recession, the company I worked for had lost all its clients and therefore I had lost my job. We did get support from the government which helped save money for you. Besides, your daddy was working and so we were doing fine.

I did not have nausea or vomiting as they usually associate with pregnant women. I did not gain too much weight; the few pounds I gained mostly went to you, although I was hooked on chocolate and all the other sweets.

Our gynecologist still cannot tell if you are a boy or a girl, he says you are a very shy kid; you don’t want to show your gender. Right now, I am six months pregnant and still counting …