Monday, June 09, 2008

Preggo Eggo and other modern-day metaphors

So the last few months, my life has been like the movie Juno sans the cool soundtrack (but I don't think I would want Sonic Youth soundtracking my life because, honestly, their albums was just a bunch of noise). But the "witty" dialogue was there and so were the "characters." My mom went batshit crazy around the end of February and tried to convince my pregnant sister to go to Vietnam to have the baby so that no one in the community would know. When that fell through, she tried to convince me and my sister to rent a house for the two weeks before and after the due date. Basically, we were supposed to hide out. My dad went into overdrive paternal mode and built an additional wing to the house so that the construction would mask the disappointment. And by wing, I just mean another bedroom and joint bathroom. My youngest sister Winnie (the nonpregnant one) went into hyperdrive aunt mode and was ready to leap oceans for her new niece.

Five hours ago, my sister gave birth. And new life has appeared. My first words to the baby? "Holy shit, you're real." My next few words? "You are so small, and the world is so large but everything will be okay." My mom's reaction was a mix of cyncism and confusion: "What are you talking about? The baby isn't small, she's 8 pounds." And things will be okay, they always turn up fine in the end after the chaos, unexpected twists, and overbearing hills are passed.

Goodbye, frightful anticipation for what unknown outcome will appear and, hello, eager anxiety for all the great things that will arise.

Oh, and that girl is going to be a heartbreaker. She's only five or six hours old, but I can feel it in my bones already.

Holy crap, I'm an aunt.