He was to be born in February, the twenty-first to be exact. His baby shower was to be a Valentine's Day themed gathering, complete with heart shaped cupcakes and little red felt crowns for everyone to wear atop their heads. There would be a kissing booth where everyone could smooch my belly for the camera. The next week, my sister Emmy would arrive in NYC. We would wander the city, cook ridiculous amounts of food, and prepare the house for the baby together. She would be present at his birth- a beautiful second home water birth where Gaby catches the baby. Biet would witness her brother being born and welcome him with kisses. And the month of love would come to a close with our family of four snuggling in the bed.
Apparently the universe has other plans.
On the day of my shower (a shower I had excitedly planned for months), New York City was struck with a hurricane of monstrous proportions. We were all advised to stay indoors, and hence baby boy's shower was cancelled. With only 13 days left until my due date, we decided it was too late to reschedule, so my decorations and baking plans were quietly shut away into a cupboard. I had been looking forward to reconnecting with old friends and to celebrating this baby with the same gusto that we had celebrated Biet before her birth, but instead the city was blanketed in snow and the weekend passed uneventfully.
My due date neared, and my sister arrived. As soon as she was settled in, I knew in my heart that I was surrounded with love and support, and I wanted more than anything to have the baby right then. I imagined my sister taking care of me for the week afterward- cooking food, walking the dog, and loving on the squished newborn face night and day- and it seemed perfect. I told myself that it was time to have the baby. The first night that she was here, I began having contractions. They quickly went from 10 minutes apart to 3 minutes apart, and came on so strongly that I had to sit. Gaby and I awoke my sister, telling her that this was it. Gaby was just about to call the midwife, but something felt off to me. The contractions were very real, but they didn't feel right. It's hard to pinpoint exactly what the odd feeling was. I told Gaby not to call, and went to lay down on the bed. Everything completely stopped. I kept holding my belly and wishing for another contraction, but none came. I was so certain that the time had come, but I guess this boy was simply not ready.
There were no more contractions that night, and none the next day. As the days began to pass I was sure that labor was just around the corner. But my due date came and went, and the days continued to slip away. Then came the sickness. Just after my due date, I noticed that Biet had a runny nose, my poor baby. The runny nose turned into a full blown cold, which spread to me, which turned into multiple days of lethargy and coughing and general miserableness. We stayed in bed, my sister took care of us, and all of our fun NYC plans were put on hold. My body showed zero signs of an impending labor, and then it was suddenly time for Emmy to fly back home to her own babies. And so this morning, at 41 weeks pregnant, I hugged and kissed her farewell.
And now it is March. And we wait. I struggle not to be disappointed, because I know that this birth will be absolutely beautiful. It will be perfect, and just as it's meant to be. It truly doesn't matter if this boy is born in February or March, or whether or not he has an audience upon his arrival, or whether he is showered with love before or after his birth. And I keep reminding myself that this is a lesson in letting go. He will come when he is ready, and that is all that matters. He will be healthy, and I will be strong, and I must let go of all other plans and preconceptions and visions of what this time of my life is supposed to look like. Biet and I are still recovering from our cold, and I keep telling myself that this amazing boy of mine is simply giving us time to be rested and healthy before he graces us.
So as these days pass by slowly, I am trying my best to let go of everything except a deep love for my family. But my oh my am I eager to see this this little boy's face and to hear his tiny voice and to meet him on his much anticipated birthday.
