To you, yet another, who has stolen my heart…

My dear little ray of light,
I have to begin with an apology, that you are not receiving a beautiful heartwarming poem from your mother at your discovery. Something has happened to my muse; I am still searching for her or more like waiting patiently for her until she deems me worthy of a visit. I promise you, if I can make such a rash gamble, that when she does arrive, yours will be the first poem I will craft.

This time around life is a bit more hectic. I feel like I am running around, and only during small intervals of silence, do I feel your presence, a mere feather caressing my womb at times, a strong heartbeat at others. I love you no less, despite my exhaustion. A glowing feeling of awe still overwhelms me when I think of how miraculous this unfolding is.

Something as powerful as love, shared between two unlikely people, moves mountains with the creation of such a beautiful breath of life; it dissolves hardened hearts to tears. Oh, I haven’t beheld your gorgeous gaze, but just the thought of handling another little baby, the miracle of tiny hands and edible feet, the shock of seeing life tumble out of my body, this helpless yet amazing and powerful body of mine, can’t be put into words.

I love you already, as one loves a secret shadow, the glow of one’s heart, a part of their own blood stream. I love you with that vulnerable abandon that only a mother knows how. Yet you still remain without a face or a name (or perhaps multiple names as I am trying to choose the best one to befit the special blessing that you are.)

Sufyan will probably warn you, that I am one of those tyrannical mothers around. We don’t own a Television set, which means you will have to learn (as he did) to make do with your imagination, books and toys. I brush his teeth every time he eats a cookie or is force-fed candy by well meaning relatives all the while telling him about the detrimental effects of sugar on his teeth and body. You will learn to love fruits, grapes, mangoes and bananas as special “sweet” treats. And I insist, despite my family’s collective gasp of horror, to have you (as I had him) in a cozy birthing center, away from the bustling schedule and industry of hospitals, with maternal midwifes who will try to coax you out in the most serene and natural of ways. But don’t worry, it seems to have done Sufyan no harm and I am sure you won’t know any different either.

It’s like your big brother knows of your impending arrival already. I have tried to explain to him half heartedly that “mommy will bring a baby home.” But it’s like he understands it at a much deeper level. He has been very clingy to his baba, and is already creating a distance between us (which breaks my heart a million times over.) He woke up a couple of times recently and cried “baby” refusing my comforting for his baba again. And sadly still, I see him as such a baby himself that I feel like I am being “mean” to him by bringing another one so soon. Such is the quandary of motherhood, nothing you do is right and everything is game for guilt.

I am nervous and anxious of course, of the balancing a growing demanding toddler with a precious new bundle of joy; of being a good mother; of wanting the best for both of you and figuring out what that exactly means.

Writing this makes me already miss you. I pray you will be a healthy, righteous, beautiful baby; that you are protected and nurtured and loved into fulfilling your every potential (amin.) August seems so close (in a terrifying way) yet so far (in an anxious impatient way.)

I love you baby.

Love,
your mommy-to-be