Happy Writing Marathon #41 | If you could give advice to your 10-years-younger self

This is my first time participating in Ken Honda's Happy Writing Marathon! I'd like to share an episode about my son, who is now a teenager and doesn't talk to me much.

The land of dreams is harsh for a pregnant woman

Ten years ago, I was pregnant with my second child. I was going on maternity leave a little early. I was free from work and could spend time with my beloved son. My planner was filled with fun plans like swimming and summer festivals. I wanted to make lots of memories.

The first event was Disney! I got tickets through my company's benefits.

However, although I was excited at first, the land of dreams is harsh for a pregnant woman. Getting down to sit on the rides was surprisingly difficult. My stomach kept tightening. But I was still technically in my stable period. I endured it because I wanted to see my son's smile.

Even after I got home and lay down, the tightening didn't stop. This is bad.

I went to the hospital while my son was at nursery school.

I was told I had threatened premature labor.

"You are at risk of premature labor. You need to be hospitalized." When the doctor said this, I interrupted and said, "Can I please have bed rest at home?" I was immediately refused.

Tears came as I prepared for hospitalization. I had always made my son feel lonely because I was busy with work. I couldn't even go to the nursery school's Bon dance festival because of work handovers. I wanted to spend so much time with just the two of us before he became a big brother.

The frustration of putting my daughter in my womb at risk. The guilt of causing trouble for those around me. A mix of many feelings, I just kept blaming myself.

For starters, would my son be able to sleep without me? I didn't want to leave that spoiled boy all alone.

I was worried he would cry.

In the evening, my husband and son came to the hospital. "I'm sorry. Mommy has to be hospitalized." I was worried he might cry. My son looked straight at me and said, "It's okay. I'm here for you. Don't worry." He said that and gently kissed the back of my hand. He was as strong and reliable as a prince.

He had grown up so much before I knew it.

But you know, I saw it. As we said goodbye and the elevator doors were closing, I saw him tighten his mouth.

Ah. He was holding back his tears. My prince was trying to be strong to protect someone precious to him.

The targeted dessert plate

During my hospitalization, he came to visit every day after nursery school. He would tell me about what happened that day, finish off the dessert plate from my hospital dinner, and then go home.

Even on holidays, you would come over at lunchtime, polish off the dessert plate, read picture books together, practice hiragana, and take naps in my bed.

Seeing the insect cage full of cicada shells you brought as a souvenir made me feel that summer had truly arrived.

We couldn't go to the pool or the summer festival, but it was a peaceful time filled with many smiles. Though, I really wanted to eat that dessert plate.

Some time after that, I was able to safely give birth to my daughter.

What I want to tell my 10-years-younger self

To my 10-years-younger self.

Perhaps you don't need special experiences to create memories with your son. Just ordinary, everyday life—days where Mom is by his side—is far more important.

Because to that child, his treasures might just be a healthy mom and some cicada shells.

And don't put too much faith in the story that if Mickey Mouse rubs your belly at Meet Mickey, you'll have an easy delivery. It's easy to have a threatened miscarriage with your second child. Never forget that you are always the one responsible for managing your own health.

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