May 10, 2002
On your birthday 17 years ago, in a month of May, I felt exhilarated that my daughter whom I yearned for finally was to be born although three weeks too early.
I was scared of the pain, scared of a bad outcome. What if I couldn’t push you out. What if the pain meds didn’t work. What if I had to go through another Csection and not see your new life unfold naturally.
You answered these questions, I didn’t have to ask for very long. You wanted to arrive, my Mother’s Day delight, all tangled up in our umbilical cord. Even from your beginnings, you were elusive to me. I didn’t see you until I woke up from deep sleep as full anesthesia is what you required, to have my uterus cut open, so a tangled up you could be freed.
17 years have passed from that miraculous day, yet I feel tangled still. I am tangled in a way that I don’t know where I end and you begin, twisted in cords and trying hard to untangle.
I pray that we, together, arrive to a place where we are untangled enough to lead healthy and happy lives, and that love for each other pulsates simultaneously but separately through our arteries and veins!
