Adam and I have been trying to conceive for about three years now. We have been married for eight. We tried everything from hospitals, fertility specialists to homeopathy. No one could really fault anything. It just was what it was. A married couple without any children for which there was no apparent reason. We accepted our fates and made peace with it. Things were looking up too. Adam got a huge raise and promotion, landing us across the country with no friends or family around. We were still happy, and were trying to making new friends and settling into a new routine when we found out it finally happened. I was pregnant. Our happiness knew no bounds but given my age, we were only cautiously optimistic about carrying her (it felt like a “her”) to full term.
The first trimester went the slowest as we waited for ever appointment regarding the baby’s progress with bated breath. Adam took up extra shifts at work to prepare for the baby’s arrival later in the year. For most days, it was just me at home, surrounded my people who I barely knew. Around month five was when I started having weird episodes of sleeplessness. At least they started out as insomnia. The doctors diagnosed it as pregnancy anxiety and asked me to practice meditation techniques before sleep. I had the most terrible time trying to focus on my breathing and not allowing my mind to stray. I resorted to endlessly scroll on my phone. I had subscribed to a bunch of maternity-related stuff on Instagram and kept looking at those cute kids, trying to imagine what my kid looked like. I think that was where it started going wrong. I read somewhere that your baby can hear you and recognize your voice and that is what I did. I spoke to her, day in and out, every night, for hours on end. I told her about her dad, about how my day went. I told her how the nosy Mrs. Nelson who lived next door was peeking through the hedges into our backyard when she thought I wasn’t looking. I even named my kid- Daisy. I told her how much her dad worked for us to have a good life. I also told her how it made me feel lonely to not have him by my side in this unknown town. I told her how precious she was and how much we needed her or rather, how much I needed her, and how she already was my best friend.
Do you know those apps which merge your partner’s and your features to predict what your kids would look like? It is kind of silly, but I tried it. She had Adam’s dimples but my green eyes. That is how I pictured her. My green-eyed, dimple-smiled Daisy; she was my savior. I swear she understood every word I said to her and replied with little baby kicks.
The first night it happened, I thought I was hallucinating. I was telling Daisy how crazy I was going before I started speaking to her. How the insomnia had crept its way up to the point where I was losing focus on my routine tasks. I was telling her how I started to look like a shell of my former self with dark under-eyes and sunken cheeks. About how Adam almost didn’t recognize me when he got back from his three-day work trip. I told Daisy she was my savior. She pulled me out of my desolate existence. I think Daisy liked hearing that because she laughed. I don’t mean a flutter in my belly; she laughed aloud. I heard her, loud and clear and what a sound it was, sweeter than a lullaby. That was the first day I heard her. She has spoken to me multiple times since, but in monosyllables. I told Adam about it. I don’t think he understood it fully; at the very least, he didn’t realize how important it was that I had Daisy keep me company for the long hours he leaves me to my own devices. He thought i was going crazy, talking to myself. Granted, he does what he does for us; but he should know by now that I have been so lonely and I am finally so glad for Daisy’s company.
If only he could listen in to our conversations, he would know how Daisy is the only thing keeping me from having a colossal mental breakdown. So that is what I planned. We had a pleasant home cooked meal that night and snuggled in to bed to watch re-runs of The Office. I put the TV on hold and told Adam how much he meant to me. I told him I wanted him to see how beautiful this is. I shushed him and signed him to listen in as I spoke to Daisy.
“Hi baby”, I whispered for my darling child to hear.
“Today is a happy day”, I told her- “Dada wants to say hi too”. I urged Adam to speak to her. Adam caressed my belly as he placed a soft kiss on it. “Hi baby”, he smiled, echoing my words. There was no sign of her. I guess she was sleeping. We shrugged it off, smiled at each other and got back to the show. But something didn’t feel right. Daisy always responded. Did she not recognize her dada? We retired to our room to go to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I tossed, turned and wriggled, finally accepting that sleep has eluded me tonight and went downstairs to get some water.
“Hi baby” I tried again.
“Hi mommy”, I heard it. Time stood still for a second as I processed what just happened. It wasn’t my Daisy’s voice. It was a man- a boy, rather. I could feel the chill running down my spine and you probably could count the hairs on my neck as it stood alive. Was I hallucinating?
“Mommy?”, “Why aren’t you saying anything?” the voice prodded.
“Who is this?” is all I could manage nervously, stumbling about my thoughts and words.
“It’s me, Daisy, silly”, he said, almost tauntingly.
How dare he take my daughter’s name? I asked him again- “Who are you? Don’t you dare use my daughter’s name”. Silence followed as I tried to helplessly look around trying to identify the source of the voice. It seemed like it came from everywhere around me, unlike my Daisy’s voice, which came from within me.
“But you are the one who named me, silly” he taunted again.
“I named my daughter that, the one inside of me right now. Not you”
“But I was inside you too, Mommy”, the voice informed me, casually. I started hyperventilating, trying to feel for daisy. Trying desperately for her to kick me once, to give me some sign that she is ok. A sense of dread set in as I ran up the stairs to wake Adam up. He woke up groggily, disoriented for a moment, but rushed to my side when he saw me breathing frantically.
“We have to go to the hospital”, I pleaded. He must have noticed the panic in my eyes for within five minutes we were already in the car on the way to the ER. I couldn’t feel her still. There wasn’t an intrusive thought that i couldn’t get out of my head as I laid on the ER bed, waiting to hear any news. Adam sat with me, holding my hand, trying to calm me down. I wish I could tell him it wasn’t working. I wish i could tell him what i heard without him thinking i was descending into some kind of gravid hysteria. It was a dull day, thankfully and the nurse got back to me with the reports.
“Fetal heart rate is normal. You can try scheduling your appointment for an ultrasound with your OBGyn office, but there is no emergency for now.”
Relief washed over me, but I was still trying to make sense of the voice. Sleep evaded me that night, and the nights after that. I no longer heard Daisy speak or giggle. I felt a kick here and there- I cherished those moments, but it never felt the same. I tried finding my baby girl. I tried fighting for her. I was her mama and only I knew that my little baby is in danger. Adam never understood what went wrong. I think he chalked it up to anxiety.
In the days which followed, I often tried to picture her; her dimples, her eyes. It never was her who ended up in my head. That boy- I can still hear his voice. He looked like he had something to say to me and I wasn’t having it. Some boy I don’t know has taken her place.
“You made me, mommy”, he kept insisting. I know what I made. This wasn’t it.
Months went on, and at this point all I wanted was to have this thing out of me. It no longer felt like my daisy. For all I know, I had a parasite within me, and I couldn’t wait for it to be expelled. Adam and I are more distant than ever. He grew more and more excited as the delivery date neared, while I started dreading the process.
The morning my water broke, there was momentary panic. Adam was home, so he was able to swiftly take our packed bags and drive us to the hospital. I was swept into our room and i waited for it to come out. Contraction after contraction- I labored. I willed myself to not shout. I did not want to give this thing the satisfaction of causing me pain. I clamped my lips shut and breathed rigorously. When the time came to push, I used all my energy and then I heard it cry.
This was not Daisy.
“Congratulations mama, it’s a boy”, she said.
The disappointment was immeasurable when I heard it cry.
Not my daisy.