Let’s be real: the thought of having an unattractive baby did not fit into my Grand Birthing Plan. I was convinced that my child would be stunning—after all, mixed heritage kids tend to be exceptionally beautiful. If you don’t believe me, just think of two names: Zoe Saldana and Jason Momoa. That genetic blend cooking in my belly? Pure magic. I imagined my little wonder arriving in designer threads, perhaps even rocking a red carpet look.
The first hint that reality might differ from my expectations came right after I gave one last push (shouting “Oh, come on!” at my husband) and the nurse’s first words were, “Whoa.” I held my breath, anticipating, “Look at this gorgeous baby!” I waited eagerly for them to place my bundle of joy on my chest for some quality admiration time.
Instead, the nurse hurried my baby over to the weighing station and whispered urgently to the doctor, “I thought you said this baby was full term?”
So there I was, lying there wide open. Then the nurse exclaimed, “Awww. She has a Mongolian spot on her bottom… wow, that’s a big one.”
Excuse me! I’m still here, and where’s my celebratory drink? My husband, curious, wandered over. Suddenly, I heard his hearty laughter. “Wow, this little one could’ve used more time in there,” he chuckled.
Seriously, where’s my drink? And could someone hand me my baby? “The Apgar score looks good,” the head nurse chimed in cheerfully.
My mother, eager to join the fun, asked, “What’s a Mongolian spot anyway?” Giggling, she called my dad, “Ron, the baby has your belly!”
My father, who had been hovering outside the room, cautiously entered. He didn’t laugh. “Is it because she came out so fast?” he whispered, looking concerned.
“Like a bobsledder on a fast track!” my husband joked. Meanwhile, the doctor was still busy between my legs, waiting for the remnants of labor to be dealt with. Frustrated, I snapped, “Can I please have my champagne and my baby, already?”
Eventually, they obliged. Thank goodness I insisted on a drink because, wow, that baby was not winning any beauty contests. But then I looked into her big eyes and that adorable little face, and honestly, it wasn’t too bad—until she decided to make a mess all over my chest.
Welcome to the world, my not-so-perfect baby. I promise to love you unconditionally.
For more insights on pregnancy and parenting, check out this post on Cervical Insemination. And if you’re considering starting your own family, you might want to explore Make a Mom, which offers top-notch at-home insemination kits. For useful information on fertility, visit Mount Sinai.
In summary, while my baby may not have been the picture-perfect infant I envisioned, the love I felt was instant and overwhelming. Embracing the imperfections is just part of the beautiful journey of parenthood.
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