One Sweet Morning 


When you were still inside my tummy, I did not think much of you. If I were to assess myself, I would say I was still 10/10 selfish during those days. I would eat well for you but I would walk for myself (because I wanted an easy delivery). I would talk to you but only for a little bit. I would pray for your overall well-being but nothing further detailed than that. As you got bigger and more prominent inside of me, it started to hit me that maybe I would lose that 10/10 selfishness. I thought, hey maybe my selfishness would be lowered to 8/10. As you kicked and moved around, it became 7/10 of selfishness. I started to think about you more and less of myself. I looked for baby socks, bibs, and some small stuff that would probably be useful for you.

But my selfishness had dropped more when we got a scare that you might have a blood abnormality – I have been a carrier of this blood anomaly. There was a recessive blood trait that had not affected me but could affect you in a bad way.

I had sleepless nights praying that you be spared of whatever this abnormality is. Your dad had to be tested to be sure you won’t have it. Waiting for the result was the worst. I almost can’t function properly googling everything about the “disease” and the what-could-have’s. This was when my selfishness dropped to a low 3/10. You know how in movies Mommy will be like, “let me be sick instead of my child?” I was like that. I would take that disease if I could.

Fortunately, results turned out fine. You were to be okay. I did not have to take anything for you. I returned to my normal selfish ways being 4/10. I would buy clothes for myself. I would plan trips for your dad and myself without really acknowledging that you were there. I was happy being “free”. But when you got so big and showed yourself, I moved, as if I knew I had to get ready for you. I bought you your crib, stroller, blankets, hats, and everything I read that you needed. I was closing in to 2/10.

It was 2/10 because I had this selfish thought that I just wanted you out of my body so I can work on fitting into my skinny jeans again. I was slowly hating my bloated face, my can’t breathe state when I walk my usual pace to catch the train, and every rounder part of my body. I want you gone inside of me. I was still selfish.

And in all honesty, this selfishness was not exactly gone when you were born. I still had the selfishness of thinking how to get my old body back, to wear my hair down when going out (need it up to feed you), and to wear nicer clothes (and not the nursing friendly tops).
You know son when all these feelings were finally gone and the selfishness score dropped to 0/10?   The first morning when you woke up without crying and you smiled at me as if to say good morning. I thought you actually knew who I was. The smile was not some random smile related to gas anymore like the first few months. The smile meant something and was an assigned emotion. I remember picking you up from your crib to our bed. Your dad was still sleeping but I was already awake. You opened your eyes. You recognized that I was not just your source of food. You knew I was family. I have never seen someone’s eyes lit up with so much joy and admiration as if I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Despite my morning face, my morning breath, my disheveled hair, you looked at me and you smiled and you made me feel I am prettier than Kate Middleton and Princess Diana combined. Your dad never made me feel that way, but you did – with one big smile eyes wide open in that one winter morning at 6AM.  

From then, I accepted that my life would never be normal again, the way I knew what normal was. And I was okay with life not being normal if it means with you in it, Elon.

And if this life was a movie I would tell you, “I would always take a bullet for you” and risk my character being cut off from a happy ending. At least I was lucky enough to get casted in your movie and have my name on the closing credits.

I love you, Elon.

Always proud to be your mom,


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