My Dearest Baby Boy,
Five years ago today, I remember sitting in that hospital bed.
It was cold and lonely, the weight of uncertainty heavy in the air.
Visiting hours hadn't started yet, and your dad and grandma weren't with us;
Rules, you know - always those Dutch rules.
I was wide awake, courtesy of the medication inducing labor. I gently caressed my small belly,
Listening to the rhythm of your heart on the monitor, hoping, praying you'd be okay.
Every contraction, your heart's tempo would dip, and my heart would leap in fear.
I was scared for both of us.
You see, I had spent a month in that hospital due to my high blood pressure.
But, what I mainly remember is just sitting there in the quiet, amidst the humming machines, my hands embracing my baby bump, and singing to you.
I spoke to you, whispering that everything would be okay.
That I would see you soon.
My body wasn't doing the best job of keeping you comfortable,
but I promised to always nourish your mind, body, and soul.
I vowed to never leave you; I just needed you to be strong a little while longer.
Hours passed, and the nurse came in to tell me that today was the day.
I was excited and scared, but I knew we'd get through it together as a team.
Your dad and grandma arrived just in time, and your dad's eyes were heavy with worry,
the burden of having us in the hospital weighing on his shoulders.
But like you, my little one, I reassured him: "Everything will be okay. We've got this."
I was still in labor, the contractions intensified by the medication.
You were so tiny that monitoring your heart rate became a challenge,
and the contractions weren't being registered properly.
I had to hold your father's hand and squeeze it so he could press the button on the fetal monitor.
You'd respond with a low heart rate.
In the midst of the pain, I marveled at us already functioning as a family,
holding each other up through the storm.
After a few hours, the obstetrician came in with his students,
declaring that an emergency c-section was necessary.
I won't lie; I was worried—for you, for me, for your dad.
We hadn't prepared for this.
Emergency C-section was NOT on my birth plan, and I didn't know what it meant for my body.
So many "what if" questions swirled in my mind.
"What if I don't make it?"
"What if you don't make it?"
"What if we don't make it?"
But in that moment, I had no choice but to have Faith.
Faith in God,
Faith in you,
Faith in me,
Faith in us,
Faith in the doctors and the process.
There was no turning back now. You had to come out, and this was the only way.
The next moments were a blur, with the anesthesiologist singing,
Bob Marley's "Every Little Thing is Gonna Be Alright," calming my nerves.
I felt like God was telling me to relax and everything will be alright. We got this!
I layed on the table, waiting for my lower half to go numb.
I remember feeling cold.
I closed my eye and prayed a silent prayer of protection.
When I opened them, your dad was there, holding my hand
Trying to be strong for the both of us but I could tell he was worried.
It almost looked like he aged 10 years in one day.
But there we were together, you barely born, fighting through life as a team.
At 12:13, you came into the world, so tiny, weighing only 1.88kg.
You barely cried, and they took you away to care for you.
I couldn't hold you, kiss your forehead, or welcome you to the world.
I was stuck, waiting for them to finish, for feeling to return to my legs,
Frustrated that I couldn't be by your side.
I once blamed myself for not being strong enough,
for not carrying you to full term,
for your small size,
for not having you naturally,
for not holding you right away.
But over time, I've learned to forgive myself,
to release the anger, and to give myself grace.
You see, even before you were born, you were already teaching me to love myself more.
Finally, they wheeled me to you, and as they placed you on my chest,
Everything else faded away.
You were here, my baby boy!
I vowed to protect you and love you, never letting you face hard times like these alone.
What I didn't know in that moment was the incredible person you would become.
You've been my teacher, my guide.
Teaching me to view the world differently, to speak a language of love that doesn't always need words. You've taught me patience, endurance, and strength I never knew I had.
You've shown me the true meaning of unconditional love.
In five years, you've taught me more about love and life than all my experiences on this earth.
You continue to teach and challenge me, but most importantly, you continue to love me as your Mama.
Though you may be too young to read this now, I hope that one day you will.
I want you to know how deeply I love you, how much you mean to me.
I'd fight for you, even lay down my life for you, but most importantly, I will live for you.
Happy Birthday, my sweet baby boy!
Here's to more years of joy, laughter, and adventures together.
With all my love,
Mommy 💕
Kommentare