I choose the ‘mumma’ you made me.

So recently I was scanning through your past year’s picture. And it is then I realized how you are all grown up. It doesn’t seem very long ago I googled a million pages because you had just swallowed a teeny weeny piece of a kiwi(yes people I am that crazy!) or the time when I refused to take you to this pediatrician because she didn’t smile at you, the time when I cried because you had just puked out milk.(In my defense I knew nothing about spitting up then) or when I almost tore off your daddy’s shirt  for I thought he had not effectively conveyed to my gynecologist the extreme (labor)pain I was in. That all seems a hazy memory now(literally!)

It would be two years now, two years of having you in my life. A few days back I woke up from a dream and I got all restless and just couldn’t go back to sleep for an hour. Nightmare? Not exactly! I dreamt of getting pregnant  and going into labor again. That is how scared I am of having another baby. No I am not scared of the labor pain or the responsibility that would come with it (okay that too, who am I kidding?) but I fear that I might not have an easy and wonderful kid like you. YOU my child have been a pleasure to have right from the time I conceived you.

I have heard people talk about how their baby had fought all odds and been born and therefore is a miracle baby. But I have always thought that in such cases the parents are the real heroes who have a rock solid strength to have an unfailing hope. I on the other hand, am not. And boy you understood that. And I knew you understood that from the time I saw your heart(or rather tiny you beating). I cried. And I cried every month when I saw you on screen. You have never given me a reason to worry, You had been a one push child. Yes one push and you were out and you still maintain your easygoing ways.

The haircut tells the story of your undemanding ways!

The haircut tells the story of your undemanding ways!

Even today, I feel guilty for that one moment and I know I owe you an explanation. For 32 weeks we were told that we were to have a baby girl. We weaved our life around pink. pink booties, pink mittens and pink dreams. And then just like that the Sonographer said

“He is doing fine!”

“you mean she!” I giggled still not suspecting anything but just an error of Pronoun.

” No, I mean the baby is a He, you know right?”

And just like that entered scrotum in our pinky dreams.

I cried for the unfairness of all, for the cute pink rompers I bought, for the songs i made keeping in mind a pretty little girl, for the name I had decide on. But let me put it this way, I did NOT cry because I was having you, I was crying because I was not having what I thought I would. But I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, because the moment i held you, I knew I had not wanted anyone or anything more than you. You were the one I always dreamt of. You always were my dream, they just took a little detour.

The moment I had you I knew my life changed from that moment on.

Yes.

I miss watching back to back episodes of my favorite sitcoms.

Image

I miss my days of clutches,

mcmbag14

If you know what I mean!

I miss my beauty sleep. Actually I miss any kind of sleep. Its getting much better now but there was a time I had started to resemble a zombie.

I miss trying and fitting into XS.

O XS when will you stop making me look like

O XS when will you stop making me look like belly dancer gone wrong.

But then what would i be without you?

A crazy lady with toned belly watching back to back episodes of a random show.

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