The Birth of You (Happy Birthday to my son)
My dearest son, my star, the light in my darkness.
You're the only reason I am still standing here today. You're the reason I push myself every day.
Though they say to do it for myself, not for others, for me, I do it for you. It always will be for you.
Having you is the best thing that could ever happen in my life. I cannot believe how strong you are, how beautiful you are. Watching you grow makes me the happiest mother alive. You surprise me, one day at a time.
You came into my life in June 2021. I noticed my period was late again; it was 2 days late. Nothing new, but I felt I must check with a pregnancy test. The next morning, I woke up to find double blue lines. I immediately showed them to your Ayah. For a moment, excitement grew, followed by crippling fear. Anxiety set in. The truth is, I was scared of losing you, of losing this to another miscarriage, just like the two before you.
The journey of having you was not all easy. At 4-5 weeks old, I was already at the clinic trying to see you. Sadly, the sonographer couldn't see anything as you were just so tiny. She suggested it might be a false positive, which broke my heart a little, and asked me to come again in a few weeks.
Days later, I bled. But I knew it wasn't my normal period, so I went to another clinic. The doctor scanned and managed to find you; you were just about 5 weeks old. They could see the sac, but there wasn't anything in it, so the doctor too feared it might lead to another miscarriage. Regardless, the doctor injected me with progesterone and asked me to take Duphaston pills to strengthen my womb. A week later, there was another bleeding, larger in amount this time. But I wasn't in pain. I felt at ease when I told your Ayah I had made peace if this was another miscarriage. But there you were, on the screen at the clinic, about 6-7 weeks old, with a visible heartbeat. The doctor assured me that you were in perfect condition.
So, the truth is, you had been fighting since the moment you were conceived. So even at your weakest moment, remember you’ve been fighting to survive from the very beginning.
And so shall I, I will fight for you, I will stand by you, no matter what comes our way.
We had done much more after that. Coincidentally, we had made an appointment at a fertility clinic months prior, which came up when you were about 8-9 weeks old. The doctor was kind enough to provide progestogen injections every alternate day until you were 16 weeks old when we stopped the injections. I was so worried, but I am glad there has not been another episode of bleeding.
It was not an easy journey for me to have you. I battled morning sickness, became a light sleeper, and my nose had became super sensitive. Ironically, I had lost half of my sense of smell, but certain scents affected me. I remember when your Ayah accidentally burnt some bread; I was annoyed and stayed in the room while they aired out the smell. I could still smell it, even the following week. I had to think about what to eat, and anything that didn’t make me vomit was what I would choose. I became super fussy with food, sometimes ordering two or three meals, and other times, I didn’t want to eat at all. Now I understand why you are such a fussy eater! You were showing me your preferences even while you were still inside me.
Due to my a pre-existing illness, I had to see a specialist at HKL. I remember around week 20, when he scanned you and said you had some excess water in your brain. He explained the risks: that when you came into our lives, you might have a larger head or possibly be slow in learning. We did the NIPT test, which found no abnormalities. Week by week, appointment after appointment, you showed beautiful progress. However, you were stubborn and kept your face close to the placenta, making it difficult to get a 5D image of you. This stubborn of yours ultimately led to your early arrival.
You were supposed to be born on my birthday, March 16th—the best ultimate gift I could receive in my life. However, since you wanted to keep your face close to the placenta, at 37 weeks, the doctor declared you had to be born via C-section. I was sad that I couldn’t have you born on my birthday, but it was fine as long as you were healthy. I thought to myself, come what may.
The day came for me to admit myself to HKL. It was a Thursday, and the operation was scheduled for Friday. I forgot what injection it was, but it was for the C-section, and it was the most painful injection of my life. It stung so much that I couldn’t move. I had to lie down for a good 30 minutes before I could move again. Another round came in the morning before the surgery at 8 AM. Fasting the night before was hell for me, as I was always hungry and gassy while pregnant with you.
I remember so vividly, down to the smallest details. Waking up at 7 AM, having a bath, and enduring that painful injection again, all alone because it was during MCO 3.0. The coldness of the operating room, the smells, the music the doctor played, the spinal anesthesia injection, the loneliness I felt, the pain I didn’t feel when they cut me open, your cry, the tears, the stitching up, the shivers, and the wait for you to be in my arms as they took you to NICU for observation.
Finally, they brought you to me around 6 PM. You had a bit of milk beside your lips, and I took some photos of you. My first reaction was your eyes—you have my eyes, Chinese eyes, “sepet!” You were white as snow, just like me. I shared the photos with your Ayah and family. I tried to stand up to pick you up, but I was still very weak. But I pushed myself and held you in my hands. I started crying again because I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe you were here. I lay back on the bed with you in my arms.
My beautiful baby boy, you turned 3 years old yesterday. Time flies, but there’s more to come, I’m sure. My star, I need you to understand that I had to divorce your Ayah because he betrayed my trust with a secret he had kept for the past 20 years we had been together. Though we were married for 5 years, I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt broken, I felt betrayed, and I might never know the truth about whether he did what he claimed he didn’t do. But I know I had enough and ended my relationship with your Ayah. Please don’t blame yourself in any way; you did nothing wrong. You knew nothing and are too little to understand. However, the damage has been done. I hope your Ayah will never hurt you the way he hurt me or harm you in any way.
I want you to know that my life is dedicated to you. Everything I do is for you. My priority is to make you happy, healthy, and well. I will push you, but I will stop when you say you’ve had enough. I will give you your freedom, but know that I will set limits if I feel it’s the best option. I will let you experiment with things, but I’m sorry if I don’t allow you to do certain things if I find them dangerous. I will make sure I raise you right: to treat women well and to be kind to deserving people. I hope you won’t be as naïve as I was or as trusting towards others. Life is a journey, and here I am, telling you my journey. I am starting this chapter with you—a story among many others. I will share the details about what your Ayah and I went through, my life, my perspective, my thoughts, and my knowledge on why I had to end things with him. I hope that my life story can provide you with clarity so you can become the best version of yourself.
TLDR : Its my son's 3rd bday, and I'm writing a journal dedicating my life stories to him. This is the opening for the journal.
Also, drawings was a commission from u/Emergency-Middle-429
(fyi i dont have a jawline..yet)
Also thanks for reading