Dear Baby,
Ever since we learned of your existence, I have been looking for a time to sit down and write down all of my thoughts. With the semester finally over, it seems the first chance I’ve had is on the flight from Doha to Denpasar while your father is sleeping next to me and I’m waiting for lunch.
First you should know that you are very much wanted. We weren’t sure that we wanted kids. The possibility was there but your father and I took a long time to find each other and I think we were unsure of our abilities to raise a child and unwilling to lose the precious alone time that we finally gained. We had had a rough before and now we wanted to really enjoy the present. But after two years of being with each other, we’ve only grown more bonded with each other and we want to join ourselves in a way that was only possible with a child. You are a little bit of me and a little bit of him and we are dying to see what that looks like. The announcement of your existence has already brought so much joy, I just keep crossing my fingers that the pregnancy continues to go well.
You are already such a good baby. You’ve given no trouble in the womb and are growing as expected. Already you have experienced so many things, I wonder what that says about your future. Early on, before I was even fully three months, we got the sad news that Uncle Bram passed away. He was sick and a fraction of the man I knew so well. That man had a mischievous smile as he got ready to prod dad and create some argument, it was the same smile that widened as he began to wine down low during every single dance party where he and dad took over the floor. He was the one who I heard playing Denise Plummer, who wore those awful 90s style stone-washed shorts and sleeveless dad shirts as he followed us around Kennedy Space Center with a video camera. When Varun, mom, Warren, and I went to see him last year (or was it earlier this year?), he was fragile and so thin. He couldn’t dance like he used to, but he still had control over his music and was ready to argue with dad at any moment. I’m glad he is not suffering any more. When life is no longer joyous, what is life?
When we went to his funeral, Varun wondered at whether the inauspiciousness was something that we should expose you to. Some people have pretty strong beliefs that babies in the womb should only be exposed to particular things but I was actually pretty pleased that one of the first things outside of our home that you took part in was this funeral. I can’t think of a more profound way to begin your journey here on earth than a preview of the end. Life is so glorious and miserable at times that we lose sense of, or are in denial of, death. But turning away or ignoring the one reality we know for sure to be true can only bring suffering. A deep awareness of the death, a reminder of the limited time we have here, can hopefully lead us to thinking about and creating a meaningful life. And that’s what I want for you baby. A life full of meaning – In whatever way that you deem. A joyous life, full of laughter and love. A life in which you find yourself overflowing with compassion, generosity, and gentleness.
And I can’t think of a better person to teach you that your father. If I have done anything right in this life, it is choosing Varun to be your father. I don’t have a single worry about the kind of dad he will be and my heart expands when I think about him holding you. He is the most thoughtful, generous, kind person I know. He is so very, very good, in the deepest meaning of the word. I’ve lost track of the number of times I have already cried on this flight to Bali just thinking about how wonderful he is. He has given me the greatest of gift so far by not even hesitating when mom expressed a desire to come on this trip. Because of him, I’ve been able to give mom (and Aunty Mayleen) a once in a lifetime experience and watch them delight in it like little kids at Disney. It has brought me the greatest pleasure and I am so, so thankful for him. The greatest gift I can give you is him as your father and I thrilled by the prospect of a mini version of him walking around the house. I have many worries about whether I will be a good mother and fears about raising a child, but I’m able to put them all aside because I have him by my side and because I know that he is the one half of you.
Well baby, in the short four months that you have been around, you have already attended a funeral, visited England and toured your father’s alma mater, gone to Denver to attend an intense and emotional session of the Intersectional Hindu Seminar, driven to Florida to pay a visit to Prem, and now you are on your way to Bali and India. As mom says, your foot hot. Perhaps this means a future of traveling for you, but one thing for sure, your life will be an adventure. May you continue to be surrounded by friends and family and people who inspire and challenge you.
I love you,
Mom (eeee!!! First time I’ve used that word to refer to myself!)