Blue Butterfly

First test… positive.  Hmmm, no can’t be right.  I was so careful.  Ok, let’s take another… NEGATIVE!  See!  I told you Taina, you were being paranoid.  Break the tie?  Yeah, take another one… negative again.  Yeah, two out of three, I can’t be pregnant, no way. 

The next morning when I told my nurse friend what happened the day before, she swiftly educated me that a woman can get a false negative pregnancy test but never a false positive.  She insisted that we draw my blood for a more accurate test result.  (We both worked at the clinic, so we did that immediately.)  She comes back…  “Mama, you are five weeks pregnant.”  HOW!?  (As I pretend not to comprehend EXACTLY how babies are made.)  I’m in total shock.  I had just received my acceptance letter to Roosevelt University, had distanced myself further from my on/off super toxic relationship with the guy who would now be… my baby’s father.  My head was spinning.

I was sick ALL day for almost five to six months.  Nothing worked, NOTHING.  There was no saltine and ginger ale cure for this type of “morning” AKA all-day-long sickness.  And when I say sick, I MEAN sick!  I could not keep anything down for very long.  I was in the emergency room at least two times with severe dehydration due to vomiting.  All the while my mind reeling as to how my minimum wage job was going to cover my rent and a baby that would need formula, pampers, wipes, clothes…  I would stare at the ceiling of my bedroom and just ride the waves of nausea while brainstorming as to what my next move was going to be. 

It was a miserable, wobbly winter for me.  I was mean to just about everyone (even got into a fist fight at 7 months pregnant-yes, THAT mean.  In my defense, she grabbed me first and then I just snapped), felt ugly the entire pregnancy and the laziness was so real.  Taking a daily shower required so much energy of me in my depressed state, but I pushed myself to do it.  I moved twice during my pregnancy.  I recall being alone in my new place, my very quiet one-bedroom apartment realizing that this is the home my baby would arrive into.  It would be just us two.  The thought of that was harrowing.  There would be a little baby in the now empty crib pretty soon.  I had chosen Noah’s Ark as her crib theme.  Little elephants and giraffes…  Motherhood would surely be my “Noah” assignment.

The time has come, my water bag broke… SHOWTIIIIIME!!  I was ready, she was two weeks late and I was SO ready!  My head was in the game, I endured the pain of the inducing hormones they injected into me and the contractions were GIANTS I took on one by one.  I was motivated for maybe the first 10 hours and then the delirium kicked in.  My contractions would not stabilize and my cervix was refusing to cooperate in progressively opening.  It was like my body was in denial.  They give me my first epidural and I. Am. Golden.  Got a few hours of sleep and woke up declaring to my room full of family that I was having a baby THAT day!  Flash to what felt like an entire day later, I was still rocking and moaning in pain, falling asleep between contractions, hungry, weak and desperate for an end to this epic labor. 

The entire floor of nurses rushes into my room.  They shake her head, make me lay on my side and strap an oxygen mask on my face.  They kick everyone out of the room except for my parents and her dad.  They explain that the baby’s heart rate dropped and the doctor is going to have to perform a c-section.  I’m crying and confused.  What’s happening?  My sister and best friend stop in to see me before they take me into the operating room.  The tears and fear in their eyes made me cry harder.  They said they would be in the hospital’s chapel praying for me and my baby to get through this safely. 

I was wheeled into what felt like a meat freezer, the operating room where they asked me to be super still as they injected another epidural to prepare to cut into me.  I didn’t realize I would be wide awake during the c-section.  I had never broken a bone or even had stitches so the thought of being awake during my first surgery was terrifying to say the least.  I was sure I was about to die.  I could feel the pressure, the tugging and pulling.  And then…she was out!  I should be embarrassed to say this but instead of asking if she was ok, my first question was “who does she look like?”  hoping she didn’t resemble him too strongly.  (Ha!  I know, I’m awful.)  He said “she looks just like you.”  I sigh and then all of a sudden my body starts to convulse.  I was shaking so hard and the urge to vomit was STRONG.  My arms are strapped down, I couldn’t even cover my mouth or shift my body to the side, all I could do is move my head to the side and try not to panic.  The next thing I remember is the nurse asking me to lift up my hips to which my face replied with “are you kidding me right now!?”  The pain is excruciating.  I’m scared to clear my throat that the pressure in my abdomen give way and I burst my guts out everywhere.

But then… they bring me this chubby baby with a WIG of black hair and this fair white skin.  Snow White, I have my very own princess in the flesh!  Her eyes were wide open, her neck was moving around,  and then she found my voice and we locked eyes.  She’s MINE!  Mia.  Mi nena.  Mia!  From that moment, I knew everything I endured was worth it.  Every time I laid on the bathroom floor counting the tiles until my next eruption, all the fright-filled tears, all the sleepless nights, it wasn’t in vain.  She was here and she was perfection!  The weight of motherhood, this assignment would forever change me.  She would be my teacher of compassion, patience, unconditional love, perseverance, all of it.  Mia was so beautiful, she took my breath away every time I gazed at her.

It has been the most remarkable journey to raise Mia Camille.  I was never entirely alone.  God placed family and friends around me in the darkest moments of single motherhood.  Mia’s presence was the hope we all clung to when my Abuelita was diagnosed with leukemia.  The blessing of Mia’s birth was our saving grace.  Every milestone after her birth meant so much more, because we shared it with her light-filled spirit.  Life had a whole new meaning, goals existed with a drive I didn’t know I possessed.  I have raised three children in my lifetime and Mia is the one I can describe as my “easy” one.  There were definitely hard days but more good than bad, to this day, thank God.    

This month, Mia turns 19 years old!  It has been 19 years since my life has been awakened.  The relationships, decisions, goals-everything I tolerated for myself would NEVER fly again.  I had new, higher dreams the minute she arrived.  She has motivated me to be better, do better and learn constantly.  She forever changed me in all the greatest ways.  She is proof that there is deep blessing on the other side of brokenness.  That my willingness to say yes to motherhood, that obedience has shifted my life forever in all the best ways.

Mia is a dream come true.  She sings like a blue bird, so sweet and comforting.  Her heart is like no other.  She believes in the good of humans in a magnificently hopeful way.  She loves God and speaks life into myself and others.  Her laughter is full of soul!  She is destined for greatness!  Mia changed my world and I’m sure I’m not her last stop.  Her life has been MORE than a blessing.  Something unplanned that unraveled into a majestic catalyst that I very much needed.  She is my first born baby girl.  My mirror, my inspiration and a legacy of love that will forever mark this earth with her talent, love and beauty.  She is our blue butterfly. 

This piece is dedicated to my magnificent daughter, Mia!  Happy birthday Mia Camille!