Dear Unborn Child,
I hope you get to read these words one day.
I’m not addressing you as “daughter” or “son” because it doesn’t matter, my love for your unborn souls has led me to where I am today.
Where am I? I’m pulling an all-nighter to end something that I should’ve ended a very long time ago.
Before we start chatting, I genuinely hope you get to read this in good health.
Health is wealth, they say, and I’ve been wasting my wealth to satisfy the entire world but myself. I’ve allowed my soul to eat itself from the all the fear I put myself through …
I’m pulling this all-nighter so I could summon up all the courage I have to face my sponsors and let them know I no longer want to continue on the Medical route.
I don’t want to be a Doctor. I don’t want to study anymore.
I’ve been studying to make my parents – especially my father – happy. When I failed at doing so, I came up with the Medicine Lie.
I’ve been tearing my soul apart trying to force myself to study for more than 10 years.
I. Don’t. Want. To. Study.
I digress again, dear child.
This post shouldn’t be about me – it’s about you.
When your mother first informed me that she was pregnant, I didn’t believe her. Not that she would ever lie about such a topic. No. I just didn’t want feel excited about nothing.
So I bought 10 different Home Pregnancy Tests. I had to make sure.
Sure enough, they all tested positive.
I still couldn’t (didn’t want to) believe it. So, your mother went back to Kuwait, went to the hospital, took a photo of the test results, and sent it to me.
HCG levels were high. Positive.
Still, I didn’t want to believe. But the following weeks began to prove it even more.
Your mother became nauseous. She suddenly hated pizza! Imagine that, she hated the food we were eating just a few weeks before her pregnancy.
Not only she hated pizza, she really hated it. The word “pizza” was enough to make her nauseous.
Your mom loved you even before she knew whether or not you were a girl or a boy.
Fast forward to a few hours ago, I just got back from visiting her in Kuwait.
I could feel you move inside her tummy.
My Unborn Child.
Still 7 months inside your mother’s womb, you gave me the courage to finally quit this battle I’ve been forcing myself to fight since God knows when.
I sure don’t want you to be exposed to the same toxic Jordanian air I’ve been struggling to cope with.
Hence my firm decision to quit Jordan altogether and stop forcing myself to go down the Medical route.
Your mother is a Doctor, and so is your Aunty.
I have so much to talk to you about.
I hope you’re born healthy and remain healthy all your life.
Don’t repeat my mistakes.
I feared my father; I hope you don’t fear me.
I feared my sponsors; I hope you never need any.
I think this is enough for our first conversation.
I can’t wait to feel what fathers feel when they hold their children.
I can’t wait to hold you in my arms and hear your cry – a healthy baby born into a world even her own father doesn’t understand.
This is the first letter to my Unborn Child.
Thank you for giving me the courage to finally stand up for myself and say to the world “Sorry, but I can’t make you happy. I’m sorry if I’ve let you down, but as Eminem perfectly put it:”Time for me to just stand up, and travel new land/ Time for me to just take matters into my own hands”
No matter what happens, keep in mind I will always love you no matter what.
And fuck the degree – you’re worth more than what a piece of paper says you are.
Categories: Letters 2 my Unborn Child