I can still remember clearly the day she was born. The doctor made the decision to take her out early because her heart was under distress each time I had a contraction. I was not ready – I had some chicken already seasoned in the fridge to cook that night for dinner. “Forget about the chicken,” the doctor said. “Go straight to the hospital!”
I remember lying alone in the bed, whispering to Yazzy, “Well, here you come, baby, are you ready?”
I imagined her tiny, the size of a Barbie doll. How was I going to take care of such a small human? I was trembling – not sure if it was because I was scared, cold, or both. All the while, I was still thinking about the chicken in the fridge – if I did not cook it, it was going to rot in there.
To my surprise, my little flower was born ten times bigger than I thought, just under 5 pounds. She was wrinkly, with a full set of black hair on her head, skin falling off her bones, with hands and feet disproportionately more significant than the rest of her body. She was strong, too, with fully developed lungs and hands ready to slap you if she was displeased.
Now, at seventeen, she is still strong, an athlete, still short, and even more hard-headed and determined. She also has a boyfriend – something that I was not expecting.
For the little one’s birthday, her aunt and uncle took us to Pubbelly Sushi, and she ordered her favorite dishes – Japanese Fried Chicken, Butter Krab Rolls, Pork Belly Baos, and Miso Bread Pudding among other things.
May God bless all her little footsteps (she has small feet), and may she find happiness wherever her journey takes her.
Cover photo by Anna Verdina (Karnova)