Treasured

2010 – pain shot through my breasts. It was a feeling I had never witnessed. And all of this was while I was out of town for a journalism seminar. Was I having multiple heart attacks? What was going on?

Turns out I was pregnant. My due date was January 18, 2011.

As the days inched closer to my daughter’s impending birth I continued to wonder about the little wonder growing inside of me. I have to admit, when I found out I was having a girl I was somewhat disappointed. Not disappointed in the sense of anger, I just had it in my head my first kid would be a boy – who in turn would look out for his little sister.

But as it turns out I couldn’t be more happy that I had my daughter first. She is such a natural at nurturing and caring for others. The moment I found out my grandmother died it was just me and the kids. At just two years old, Kura immediately sensed something was wrong and it was Kura who wiped my tears.

If her little brother cries – Kura is there – sometimes faster than me. The moment she opens her eyes in the morning, she goes over to her brother's bed to check on him.

 

 In just her three years on this Earth she has taught me so much about life and myself. I should have known what joy she would bring to my life. While most people complain about pregnancy – carrying Kura was easier than I ever imagined.

Morning sickness didn’t last long and I cannot remember a single complication. Labor was easy, too.  (Yes, I still had an epidural, my mama ain’t raise no fool)

I was admitted in the hospital at about 8 a.m. and by 5:30 p.m., just a day after my projected due date -- one of my greatest treasures was in this world.  In fact, the name Kura means treasure house in Japanese. (I bet you thought her name was made up)

And as I think back over these last three years -- my life has changed so much. My life now revolves around my kids. Friday is usually “hair day” – which consists of me fighting Kura to sit still and her telling me “that hurts!” or “stop ma-ma!” I don’t remember what I did on the regular before I met my baby girl.

And as we prepare to celebrate her birthday – I think of the many more birthdays to come. Soon she won’t think I’m the best thing ever. Soon she won't watch me in the mirror as I get ready and try to imitate every move I make. One day when I come home from work she won’t run to the door to the door to greet me. But until that happens I will treasure every moment with her.

Happy Birthday mommy’s baby!

 

 

For My Firstborn

I'm sure every parent thinks their kids is super cool, sweet and the cutest thing walking.

But I have the proof to back up my beliefs.   : )

Today marks a miraculous milestone for me; the birth of my baby girl two years ago.

If most people actually sat down and thought about the miracle that is pregnancy, they'd see why children are such gifts.

My daughter is one of the best things that could ever happen to me.

From the first kicks to the first kiss, I loved her. When she was in the womb, genderless and nameless, I knew I loved her and would protect her until the death of me.

I can finally relate to my own mother and the many things I've heard her say. All the things I wasn't allowed to do were forbidden out of pure love for me.

Now I'm the one saying it's bedtime or "no" to candy.

I simply want the best for mine. I was determined not to have a baby at a young age (though some may argue 20s is too young) because I knew I wouldn't be able to meet all her needs.

Armed with a college degree and my first job out of college, I was prepared to give this little girl all the world has to offer.

And now two years later, I still feel the same way. I'm amazed at this love I have. It's a love like no other.

I didn't cry at any of my graduations.

But I did cry when I first held my baby girl in my arms.

After 9 hours of labor and a half hour of pushing, this gift was finally mine.

I vowed to give my baby the best which is why I strive to be the best.

My daughter will reap the benefits of my hard work.

That's my gift to her.

Happy Birthday, baby girl.

Every Man Needs an Heir. Or Heiress?

Just like I suspected it’s a GIRL.
I guess you can say my motherly instincts have already started kicking in. (just joking)
Nontheless there it was clear as day on the ultrasound screen that my boyfriend would not be getting the little male cub he had envisioned he’d have. He’d instead have to settle for Nala. And then I sadly thought of how there would be no football games or catch outside or wrestling in the living room. Daddy would have to opt for princess pageants, tea parties and ballet class.
That made me worry.
Doesn’t every man want a little man of their own? Since the beginning of time, a male heir has been important. History shows that. King Henry VIII of England had his wife Anne Boleyn executed after she failed to give him a male heir to take over the thrown. There’s always an abundance of chinese girls availalbe for adoption since the country have a one child per family policy, and boys of course are desired more. Now there’s also the option of babies by design, and I’m quite sure boys are number one on the couple’s list. But I could be wrong.
It still made me think and after thinking about it, it all came back to “everything happens for a reason,” which I do strongly believe in.
Taking proper care of one woman is hard enough. We see that on the regular. Men not being faithful to the women in their lives, trying to take on more women, when all along he can’t maintain the one he has. There’s also the man that has one woman but doesn’t respect her or love her. So if one woman is difficult, two women must be a monstrosity of a task. And yet God has entrusted him to take on this task. God has trusted him to not only take proper care of me, but more importantly take proper care of his daughter, who will need him more than I ever will.
So maybe an heir isn’t all that important. Besides he’s been blessed with an heiress to raise.

A New Me

It's been months since I've updated my blog and that's because life sort of got in the way. Working 40 hours a week as a reporter, can be tiring. (I can't imagine working more hours like most reporters normally do) My weekends are usually spent, laying around the house, doing absolutely nothing constructive.

But come very soon even that will change. I'm embarking on a journey many women before me, and many women after me will embark on.... The journey to motherhood. That's right. I'm pregnant. Surprised? Yeah, so was I when two pink lines showed up on the home pregnancy test I'd taken.

I thought the test was wrong; wasn't sure if I wanted it to be or not. And now 22 weeks later, here I am with a very pregnant belly occasionally feeling little thumps from a very busy baby.

A million thoughts, questions, scenarios run through my mind on a regular basis. Before ever really feeling any movement I often wondered if something really was inside of me or was every tests in that box defective. Now that I feel him/her moving, I try to imagine what he/she is doing, how he/she is moving and why. Not knowing the gender of my baby isn't the only big question racing through my mind. Like most parents-to-be, I wonder if my baby will look like me and act like me or more like his/her daddy. I imagine conservations we'll have when my baby is all grown up. I probably imagine and think about everything possible!

But there is probably one thing that baffles me the most, how is it possible to love someone so much despite ever meeting them?