Two Pink Lines
May 1, 2013Dear darling baby,
Hi…! You don’t know me yet, so it might sound a little weird to you but you live inside me right now. It will be many weeks before we start talking to each other. Actually I will be the one doing the talking; you, for your part would mainly convey your regards through kicks, and call womb service in the middle of the night to place your food order (I’ve read enough Umbert the Unborn to know what’s coming my way, baby). You might be smaller than an apple seed now, but one day you will be kicking and crying and pooping and burping all over me, and heaven knows, I will love you even more than I love you today, which is saying a lot since I never knew an apple seed could evoke such love in me.
You don’t really need to know how you came to be inside me, baby. I will patiently wait for you to come and ask me the dreaded question someday when you are old enough, but today is not that day. So for now let’s just rewind to a few days back when I found myself in the bathroom in the morning, gazing at two pink lines growing increasingly blurred thanks to my teary eyes, and then running to show your Daddy that you had made your presence known to us. I wept like a baby while Daddy held me in his arms, I was so happy. There you have it: you started as a pink line in my life. The most beautiful pink line ever, if I may say so. And to think I was so terrified of taking the test that would make me see that line, that I was shivering when I finally took it!
So then we went to a doctor to confirm that you were, indeed, in our lives, and I waited an agonizing twelve hours in which I realized just how much I wanted you to be. And Daddy? Daddy said he hadn’t felt this restless since our wedding day! Come evening I went out, with like, a thousand instructions from your Daddy about not to wear high heels and not to take the stairs (psst, between you and me, Daddy can be quite paranoid, you’ll get to know when you meet him). When Daddy saw me he asked me what was wrong because I looked so worried. You see, this big part of me already knew you are in my life, and yet, until the doctor said something, nothing was confirmed. And I was a bundle of nerves somehow putting one foot ahead of the other and making myself move, trying to find solace in all the online research I had done the whole day.
We reached the clinic and the cold lady there told us the result was out and kept shuffling a sheaf of papers trying to find my report. Can you imagine how I felt at that moment? Oh but how can you, my baby apple seed? I must have forgotten to breathe when the lady finally told us that it was a confirmation. And then I saw it on paper! It was then that I started grinning like an idiot, and Daddy started saying Thanks to me over and over again. In that moment, baby, your Mommy was the happiest woman on earth, barring none.
We have a long way to go, you and I, and this amazing journey has just begun. Right now, I love how it is just you and me, in our own tiny world, until the time comes for you to show your cherubic face to Daddy and the rest of the world (I already dread having to deal with Daddy’s impatience until then). But yeah, we are going to have a great time, especially since these good people in Fried Eye have let me write to you every two weeks! So keep growing, my apple seed. Mommy loves you the most.
Kisses,
Mom on Tenterhooks.
About the Author Mom on Tenterhooks :
We welcome your comments at letters@friedeye.com