An open letter to my first "bundle of joy"
Poem By Amber Mueller
For you, my newborn bundle of joy.
Looking back I tend to romanticize the night of your conception. Admittedly though, in reality I took no notice of that magic moment, that spark of life. A few weeks passed before the thought of you even occurred to me. I thought briefly about my options, but deep down I knew you were worth all the sacrifices I'd have to make.
From the very beginning you were a handful. Everyday, within minutes of waking, I felt ill. "What have I gotten myself into? How am I going to do this alone?!" I began pouring over all the books, the classes, the different philosophies. I worried about you until the wee hours of the night, only to start the next day with the same tormenting questions and a sense of impending doom.
Then sooner or later something clicked. The closer to your due date, the more determined I became. Purpose mixed with instinct, I suppose. "This is who I am. This is what I was put on earth to do." I started the real planning. I worked on a budget. It took days but I eventually chose a name. And in what felt somehow like both an eternity and the blink of an eye, you were here. I had prepared the best I could but "my God, what a mess!"
As soon as you came into the world the doctors snatched you up. They took turns examining you, while I waited in constant fear that they would find something wrong. "Were you okay? Were you the right size and shape? Were you whole?" When they finally returned you to me I sighed in relief; you were no worse for wear, my beautiful creation. In that instant I dedicated my life to your success and well-being.
I have so many hopes and dreams for you. I can't wait to watch you grow and flourish. I want you to know that you have so much to give to this world and I am proud to call you mine, my newborn angel, my bundle of joy, my first NIH grant application.