Dear My Future Baby…

First of all,

I want you to call me Mamoy or Mocil (stands for Momi keCil). Because I want you to call your daddy Papoy (yes, like the minions’ language on Despicable movie).

I was 24 when I marry your daddy and we were dating since around 10 years ago,

I was a young girl and till now still do and I just want to have fun with your daddy.

I said I want us to have many-many-many holidays when he said let’s have and raised a kid soon.

I’m an egocentric bastard. The person I listen to most is my own self. So I suck those fucking  birth control pills since before my wedding day. Thinking that yes, I want a baby, but maybe in 6 months or a year later.

But than your stupid mommy-to-be realize that your (and your sisters and brothers) presence does not mean that me and your daddy could no longer having our honeymoon romance anymore. Your presence means that we are honoured by Allah to have and raise you. Your presence means that there will be more joy in our life, more love in our life, and more fortune in our days.

So your stupid mommy-to-be stopped taking those pills and start to pray. Wishing Allah does not granted my yesterday’s wishes and instead grant today’s one, while me and your daddy start our conceiving program.

I know that some women will need extra effort to could get pregnant, but I never thought that I would be one of them. On our 5th month of marriage, I heard the worst news I ever had. I have those little-annoying-myomas and some obstruction on my right ovary.

Worst news ever. For me. Am I ever gonna meet you someday?

But hey, this is us. Your parent-to-be are a couple of bubbly fighter. We’re not gonna surrender. We’ll try our best. We’ll eat and drink whatever it needs to have you around us. We’ll never stop wishing and praying. We’ll work harder to overcome anything that may come.

So, here we are. On our 6th month of marriage. Keep praying and wishing and swallowing thousands pills. I wish and I know we’ll meet someday. We love the idea of you and we love you even before we met you.

Please come soon.

Longing for your presence,

Mamoy.

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