Mom
My mom and I share a special bond of nine months. I still remember the first time she saw me. The picture quality wasn't that great, nor was my pose. The ultrasound technician was probably trying to take candids but my mom didn't conceive no girl who don't slay.
Dad was with her the entire time, giving her support. When they realised I was old enough to hear them, Mom asked him to play some jams for me. Everyday, like routine, I would listen to the same tracks and learn about the world I was about to be born into. Three things stuck the most: My gang is Gucci, all my friends are dead, and I can only love partly because I must love my bed and my momma the most. I felt ready to be out in the world.
Mom was obsessed with a TV show throughout the pregnancy. It was about a family that got into a lot of pointless drama and her favourite character was a 20-year-old she thought might be pregnant as well. Her excitement about the possibility of becoming a parent the same time as that woman was palpable.
One time, while watching the show, she began discussing baby names with Dad. They both seemed adamant on giving me a unique name, but because of their indecisive nature, they kept going back and forth on names for an entire week. By the end of it, when one of the women of that family announced the name of their baby girl, my mom screamed for my dad. "I know what to name her: Uttara." My dad laughed out loud but his snickering died down when he soon realised how dead serious my mom was. "That's perfect, honey, at least boys will know she's hard to get and leave her alone."
Dad would sometimes ask my mom for some alone time with me so when she took a nap, Dad would take a seat next to her and bring out his phone. He would always start with a heavy sigh, saying, "I wish you could see all this." He would tell me about a great art form known as "memes". The first rule was to never pronounce it as "mimi" or "meymey", or else he'd disown me. He told me about all the old gems from his time and taught me the worst thing I can grow up to be is a normie. He also whispered to me that he had his suspicions about Mom being one, but I was never to mention it to her.
My mom wasn't as good at talking as my dad. She would often times end up having long awkward silences with me and apologise a hundred times for everything. Her jokes only made her laugh, and she'd sometimes start a sentence and forget where she was going with it. But I loved her to the moon and back.
When the nine months were finally over, I felt like I was already best friends with my parents. I wasn't scared of the next stage of my life but I was also sad about leaving this cosy uterus I've called home for so long. I couldn't hold it in anymore, and began crying the minute I got out.
Mayabee Arannya is a confused soul still searching for a purpose. Give her advice on life at facebook.com/mayabee.arannya
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