I remember the day you were born. You didn’t come home that day and I remember wondering why they couldn’t “release” you. I remember Mama telling me on the telephone, however, that I could go to see you at the hospital the next day.
I remember the first time I saw you. The nurse wheeled your bassinet up to the viewing window and you “greeted” me by shooting a stream of pee at the glass. Hahaha.
I remember that when I went to visit Mama in her hospital room, I told her what you did and she laughed too. Then I asked when you could go home. Mama explained that you had to stay in the hospital for a little longer because you needed to “bake” in the special crib they had at the hospital. (Apparently, you and Mama had a mild case of RH incompatibility; thus, when you were born, you were slightly jaundiced. This meant you needed to stay in an incubator for light treatment and whatnot till you were okay. I only figured out all this when I was pregnant with Carlo and reading all these pregnancy books.)
In the next few days, I remember nagging our parents daily about whether that day was the day you’d get to go home. Back then, it seemed like forever; but in reality, it was only a week.
I remember that when they finally brought you home, I couldn’t sit and stay inside the house. I wanted to be waiting outside. If they had let me, I probably would’ve been waiting out by the street. Instead to keep me occupied, I remember that they made me wash the cars. I remember telling them the cars were already clean but they kept insisting that they were dirty and I just had to keep scrubbing. I guess I must have been annoying them with all my questions.
I remember the car pulling up to the gate and Mama getting out with you in her arms. I remember her telling me to change clothes (I was pretty wet from washing the cars) and to make sure I washed my hands. I remember running to my room to get changed and rushing to the bathroom to clean up as quickly as I could.
I remember getting to hold you. (Thankfully you didn’t pee!) And I remember the rush of love and joy I felt when your tiny hand gripped my finger.
The day they brought you home? That day was a Saturday, exactly a day before my 7th birthday. I’ll never forget it. You were the best birthday gift ever.
You still are. I’m so so sooooooo blessed to have you in my life. I love you.
Happy Happy Birthday, ChoCho.