Drink 4 More Pills After 12 Hours

To my first child,


First and foremost, I would like to apologise in advance since I know that I can’t have you just yet.

I bet you’d be beautiful. I know that you are.

But this is not when I’ll have you.

You are not supposed to be the child who was conceived inside your father’s hotel room in the city. You’re not supposed to be the child who was conceived after 5 minutes of mindless intercourse on a Wednesday evening– with the black and white noise of FOX tv drowning all of the gasps I let out. You are not supposed to be conceived with your father telling me “let’s not get emotional” as we bite off dark chocolate in the dimly lit room illuminated by the screen of his phone streaming  walkthroughs of the different video games he’d like to buy. You are not to be conceived with me exiting the hotel in silence so as not to wake your father up.

This is not how you’ll be brought to this world.

You are worth so much more than to be the child of a premature romance budding between 2 people who swore never to fall in love with each other.

Let your mother fix this first.

Let me learn how to quiet my anxieties. Let me heal from my ghosts so that I’d be ready to love and let go when need be. Let me spend more time getting to know this man who’s so imperfect and yet I feel perfect when he’s around. Let me teach him about compassion, forgiveness and trust as I teach myself respect and patience and courage. Let me form the constellations of the world at the back of my hands first, so that when I hold you someday, you’d have the universe enveloping every inch of your body through my fingertips.

You will be the child of happiness and love.

This is not how you’ll form through me– it would be unfair.

It would be unfair to you, to me and to this man who could someday be your father.

Let your mother take it from here first.

This is not how you’ll enter the world.

Give me time and when we’re all ready, we’d have you.

And you would have us.



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