How do you prepare to bring a child into this world – a child you have been dreaming about your entire life – when you don’t know how long he may get to stay? How do you prepare your heart, knowing his heart didn’t form correctly, knowing he will have to endure more tubes, more surgeries, more medicine in his first weeks of life, than you have ever experienced in your 31 years?
How do you live inside all of the excitement – what will he look like? whose temperament will he most closely emulate? – while simultaneously living inside all of the worry – how will his health be upon birth? did his arteries form close to how they were supposed to? will he be a fighter?
How do you wrap your mind around the fact that in ten days (or sooner), the process of birthing this little being will begin? As a first time mom, a lot of firsts will start happening. As a heart mom – a heart mom – an identity I never even considered – so many more firsts and challenges are coming my way.
I love this little boy so much, and I am scared for him – for us – for me. In my brightest moments, I feel calm and prepared. I feel like we’ve got this, and we will make it through whatever life throws at us. But mornings like today – when I wake up just after 4 a.m. and am just awake for the day – I sit here and wonder if I’m strong enough for all of this. I wonder if we can survive every possible scenario. I anticipate just how much this little man is going to change our lives, no matter what.
This song – The Fighter by Gym Class Heroes – has just been speaking to me lately. This baby better have the fight in him – his dad and I will fight for him – his Papa Joe and Nana J will fight for him – so many of you are fighting for him.
“Every time you fall it’s only making your chin strong
And I’ll be in your corner like Mick, baby, ’til the end
Or when you hear a song from that big lady
Until the referee rings the bell
Until both your eyes start to swell
Until the crowd goes home
What we gonna do ya’ll?
Give em hell, turn their heads
Gonna live life ’til we’re dead.
Give me scars, give me pain
Then they’ll say to me, say to me, say to me
There goes the fighter, there goes the fighter
Here comes the fighter
That’s what they’ll say to me, say to me, say to me,
This one’s a fighter”
Give em hell, Jalebi. That’s my battle cry for you. I will always give em hell for you – please be a fighter.