My First Day
My mum wanted me! She had decided to keep me. She endured the next few months of mental agony. The doctors' words kept ringing in her ears...
are you sure you want to keep this baby you're too weak to bear this to full term are you sure you want to go through this the baby might not survive you are too weak to risk another miscarriage is it worth it the baby might be born with birth defects it's not going to be easy to bring up a child with birth defects it's going to be a burden you are already struggling financially you wouldn't want another financial liability are you sure your husband and children will accept a baby with birth defects are you sure you can accept the baby think even if the baby were to survive till full term it may not strong enough to survive its first year are you sure you want to go through this are you sure you want this baby are you sure are you sure are you sure don't say we didn't warn you why don't you consider again are you sure are you sure...
Seven months later...
Mum and Dad had just returned from the mall. They had bought me some baby stuff. Mum said I was going to need those things when I came along. They had only just entered the house when I started to make my presence felt. Having had more than 5 babies prior to this, Mum knew it was time to go to the hospital.
After Mum was admitted to hospital, Dad made his way home to look after my siblings.
The next morning, Dad got the news. He made his way to the hospital. He was excited. He was going to meet me for the first time. He found the ward, spotted my mum on a bed, went over to ask her, "How are you? Where's our baby?"
"There, over there," Mum said, pointing to the bubble-like contraption which had a lamp affixed to it.
Hesitantly, Dad walked over over to the machine.
"Eek! What's that?!"
What do you mean "WHAT'S that?"
It's me! Me!
Surely you had meant to ask, "WHO'S that?"
Well, Dad, aren't you going to pick me up? Aren't you going to give me a hug? You don't seem to know what to do. Go on, pick me up. Don't just stand there and stare! Dad! I'm here!
See, the nurse is showing you how you can pick me up. You only need one hand to do that, Dad. Come on! The nurse is waiting for you to stretch out your hand. Come on, STRETCH OUT YOUR HAND to receive me from her!
Dad! It's ok...I won't crumble even if you held me in your palm. I know I look fragile, but I'm really quite strong. You'll see...I'm going to survive! Look... I fit nicely into the nurse's palm. See, I'm palm-sized. You hear the nurse? I'm not heavy...I'm just 3 pounds, 9 ounces. I'm lighter than a durian.
Go on, Dad, pick me up! Hold me, hug me...I know I'm all shrunken and wrinkled...not a very pretty sight...but please, Dad, just give me a hug. Dad? Dad? Where are you going, Dad? Aren't you going to hold me in your arms for a while...No? Not even for a while, Dad? Dad? Dad!
He needed time to learn to accept me.
My second 'taste' of rejection.
are you sure you want to keep this baby you're too weak to bear this to full term are you sure you want to go through this the baby might not survive you are too weak to risk another miscarriage is it worth it the baby might be born with birth defects it's not going to be easy to bring up a child with birth defects it's going to be a burden you are already struggling financially you wouldn't want another financial liability are you sure your husband and children will accept a baby with birth defects are you sure you can accept the baby think even if the baby were to survive till full term it may not strong enough to survive its first year are you sure you want to go through this are you sure you want this baby are you sure are you sure are you sure don't say we didn't warn you why don't you consider again are you sure are you sure...
Seven months later...
Mum and Dad had just returned from the mall. They had bought me some baby stuff. Mum said I was going to need those things when I came along. They had only just entered the house when I started to make my presence felt. Having had more than 5 babies prior to this, Mum knew it was time to go to the hospital.
After Mum was admitted to hospital, Dad made his way home to look after my siblings.
The next morning, Dad got the news. He made his way to the hospital. He was excited. He was going to meet me for the first time. He found the ward, spotted my mum on a bed, went over to ask her, "How are you? Where's our baby?"
"There, over there," Mum said, pointing to the bubble-like contraption which had a lamp affixed to it.
Hesitantly, Dad walked over over to the machine.
"Eek! What's that?!"
What do you mean "WHAT'S that?"
It's me! Me!
Surely you had meant to ask, "WHO'S that?"
Well, Dad, aren't you going to pick me up? Aren't you going to give me a hug? You don't seem to know what to do. Go on, pick me up. Don't just stand there and stare! Dad! I'm here!
See, the nurse is showing you how you can pick me up. You only need one hand to do that, Dad. Come on! The nurse is waiting for you to stretch out your hand. Come on, STRETCH OUT YOUR HAND to receive me from her!
Dad! It's ok...I won't crumble even if you held me in your palm. I know I look fragile, but I'm really quite strong. You'll see...I'm going to survive! Look... I fit nicely into the nurse's palm. See, I'm palm-sized. You hear the nurse? I'm not heavy...I'm just 3 pounds, 9 ounces. I'm lighter than a durian.
Go on, Dad, pick me up! Hold me, hug me...I know I'm all shrunken and wrinkled...not a very pretty sight...but please, Dad, just give me a hug. Dad? Dad? Where are you going, Dad? Aren't you going to hold me in your arms for a while...No? Not even for a while, Dad? Dad? Dad!
He needed time to learn to accept me.
My second 'taste' of rejection.
posted by Me at 3/29/2005 11:26:00 AM
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