“January My imagination cannot do justice to

“January 4th, I knew you were going to exist.
September 1st you arrived. The story of everything that happened in
the middle of those dates is both exciting and extremely dull at the same time.
Some days, I would just lay in bed, daydream about your face, wondering what
color your eyes would be. Brown like mine, or blue like your daddy’s? I
wondered at the shape of your face, the color of your complexion, and what kind
of personality you would have. Would you be out-going, smiling at everyone?
Alternatively, would you be shy and reserved, speaking only when spoken to? I
mentally imagined every single detail about you. Now that I have met you, now
that you are in my arms, I see that everything I imagined about you was wrong.
My imagination cannot do justice to your beautiful creamy coffee skin, or deep
soulful chocolate brown eyes. Never did I imagine the soft silken golden-brown
hair that would grace your crown. Never did I imagine someone so small could be
so perfect. My heart is not enough to fit all the wondrous emotions you bring
out in me. I love you, Geneivive Maylin. My world, my heart, and my soul all
wrapped up in one tiny dynamite stick that is you.” – Letter to My Daughter,
Sept. 1 2016

The day I found out I was pregnant
is the best and worst day in my life. I had a job, boyfriend, and a great life.
Those two pink lines changed everything. The boyfriend became fiancé, the job
no longer existed due to several high-risk complications, and my great life
just became that much better. An excitement entered my soul, and so did the
greatest fear I have ever felt. What if the baby didn’t make it? What if there
was something seriously wrong? What if I couldn’t be a good mom? So many
questions bounced around in my head at lightning speed, each one more
concerning than the last. I sat in that cold, Coca-Cola themed bathroom, each
breathe coming faster and faster until I was in a full-on panic attack. Twenty
minutes later, I was finally calm enough to go tell my boyfriend, Tony.

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His reaction was almost comical and
priceless. I held up the test and said, “Tony, you’re stuck with me for 18
years at least! Two pink lines!” His face frozen, he just sat there. Looking
closely, you could see the gears turning in his head and finally, realization
sparked in his eyes. They grew wider than a dinner plate, and he levitated off
the bed and practically flew to where I was standing in the doorway. He placed
his hands on my stomach and said “Hi, baby, I’m your daddy! I am so glad you
are going to be here soon, I can’t wait to meet you!” I was shocked, to say the
least.

I had been expecting him to act
like every other man you hear about, denial and anger. Instead, he was… Happy?
I was taken aback, not comprehending that not only was I going to be a mother,
but that I would not have to do it alone. His next actions confirmed that I
would have a partner in raising my baby. Dropping to one knee, he grabbed my
hand, kissed my palm and spoke, “I’m not even giving you the chance to say no,
you’re going to marry me. Nevertheless, I promise you this, as long as I am
alive, I will never leave your side. No matter what happens, I will always do
my best to work things out with you, and make the baby’s and your happiness my
main priority. I will do everything in my power to make you happy and take care
of you.”

Right as he finished speaking, my
mom and grandmother pulled up in the driveway, and we both ran outside to tell
them the good news. My mom’s reaction was to instantly start bawling. I was
confused until I heard her mumbling under her breathe, “Thank you Lord! Now get
my baby through this safely and let me meet my grandchild!” Grandma instantly
smiled, excited about being a great-grandmother. I was little shell-shocked, so
to speak, so Tony led me back inside and put me in bed. Little did I know that
day would be the beginning of a long, bumpy journey to bring my beautiful
daughter into this wacky, crazy, wonderfully horrific world.

 

After a few months, at my 19 weeks
check-up, we learned we were having a baby girl. Tony wanted me to pick out the
name. He felt that if it were up to him, it would be a generic, extremely
popular name. I preferred something unique, that no one else had. Therefore, we
came up with Geneivive. Old fashioned, and extremely unique and beautiful.

Six month after we found out we
were expecting, we got married. Even though we had many difficulties, it was
perfect. A small family-only ceremony and a “staycation” for a honeymoon. Here
we were, newly married, baby on the way, ready to live the American Dream. Or
so I thought. My health during the pregnancy made everything scary. As a
diabetic, I was on multiple medications to keep my body as healthy as possible
to deliver a healthy, happy bouncing baby girl.

Things straightened out for a
while. We developed a routine of boring doctors’ appointments that always
introduced new restrictions, and waiting for Tony to get off work so we could
relax together. Most of my time was spent shopping and getting everything ready
for our new arrival. He would consistently lay in bed every night, and just rub
on my stomach, feeling the baby move, which she did quite a bit! I blew up like
a balloon and had many, many emotional breakdowns.

There was a point where I did not think I could
do it, be a wife and mother. Too many new things, too many changes for someone
who relied on routine before. For weeks I silently contemplated other options.
I stayed emotional, always with watered eyes.