1/11/24
Lana B — “mom” of most every friend group i’ve belonged to; “mom” for REAL. I’ll give you a second to pick your jaw up off the floor, run to your group chats, call Kris Jenner — whatever it is you need to do. I didn’t go through the archives from the past 365 days + create an album on my phone called “fake it” planning my recent posts to not have a “break the internet” moment. It was easier than you’d think — i’m not Kylie Jenner; no one thought to strategically cross check my nail color, hair length or notice my old iPhone in a mirror selfie instead of my current. swindling instagram is more fun than anything i’ve pulled to date.
May 20 — 10 minutes before i clock into work. 2 red lines. 1 plastic stick (well, 3 over the course of 24hrs. it’s called denial) oh, + ill be home alone for 48 hours. it’s definitely not the kind of news i’d dare tell my mother over the phone, so i sit alone in my house, pinching myself, looking at the tests every 5 minutes in attempt to grasp any sort of feeling that this was real. every thought against myself running through my mind. i’m too young, i won’t be good at this, what will people think? it was a time to learn to truly believe in the mantra “WHO CARES” + start living life for Alana, doing what sits well with MY soul — what i know to be True. + that truth is that i was made for this. that this was actually the answer to my prayers, just in a way i wasn’t anticipating. in a language i hadn’t yet learned. like always, God knew better than i did what i was asking for when i was crying out to Him, asking that the hole in my heart be healed. filled. snap me back into reality, im tired of going through the motions. + let me tell you, this did just that.
June 12 — i sit in the doctors office, watching a B&W screen, looking at what seems to be a pulsating blob. i hear my doctor describe to me that blob is in fact a tiny person starting its life inside of me. “gestational sac, yolk sac, heartbeat.” words i thought i’d only hear in anatomy class. confirmation from a medical professional + i still didn’t think this could be real. no shot. but i’ll admit that the happy tears my mom shed that day + the way she continued to hug me from the second i told her was real. so this must be too.
September 17 — it’s a GIRL! because one Alana isn’t enough for this lifetime. a carbon copy. i needed her. i see myself in the windows of her soul at 3 AM, when the world is asleep + it’s just the two of us. falling in love all over again, every. single. time. i’ll sleep again one day, but these moments are finite — everyday she’s the smallest she’ll ever be again, depending on me the most she ever will. i love being her peace, but what she doesn’t know is she’s equally as much, but probably more so, mine. + ask anyone, i was certain I was having a boy. but life made complete sense once i knew i was able to recreate the most precious love i’ve ever known — my mama’s. from the other end. i have a daughter.
1/11 — the number of new beginnings, abundance, protection + good fortune; accompanied by a new moon. i have lived 21 1/11’s + considered them merely the day after my birthday. who knew my 22nd one would change my soul for eternity. an empty wound in my heart, searching high + low to fill for years. nothing worked. not until 1:30 pm when i see my daughter through my tear filled eyes. when the world was laid on my chest after the hardest experience i’ve ever had, but i would do a million times over for a love like hers. not until my heart itself was eviscerated — worn now on the outside of my body, to be protected with every fiber of my being while flaunted as my most prized possession.
“open arms” by SZA puts her out along with the rest of “what love feels like”, a playlist on spotify by yours truly. house makes her eyes big followed by the cutest facial expressions you’ll ever see, + my hardest of both rap + dubstep doesn’t wake her on our car rides. i still swear that the oxytocin rush Zeds Dead gave me in my car jam session on 1/10 is what initiated the beginning of my labor later that day.
it all makes sense now, every moment of pain + emptiness i’ve endured in this life. every experience that’s shaped me into the woman i am today. every everything. her eye contact heals the depths of my being. she stares into my soul + i into hers; we both see home. + home is where the heart lies. i don’t just want to say that i’d die for you — i’d live for you. every day of this uncertain life, i want to live + be your constant.
my deepest dream come true — no longer a dream, i wake up to live it. twice through the night + every second of the day.
G.S.B. | 1/11/24
