21/04/2026
April 21, 2026
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My mommy picked April 21 long before I was ready, like it was a date she circled in her head and refused to let go.
“April 21,” she’d say, smiling to herself. “That’s when you’re coming out.”
I imagine her counting the days, talking to me when no one else could hear. Maybe she’d rest her hand on her belly and whisper it like a plan we both agreed on. Not rushed, not late.
Just right. April 21.
When the time got close, I wonder if she got a little stubborn about it.😁
If the doctors mentioned another date, did she shake her head? “No, I think the baby knows,” she might have said. “We’re waiting.”
There’s something quiet and powerful in that idea. That before I ever saw the world, someone was already hoping for me in a very specific way. Not just that I’d be born, but when. Like she was trying to meet me at a certain moment, as if that day would mean something for both of us.
And maybe it does.
Maybe every April 21 carries a bit of that story.
Not just a birthday, but a reminder that before I had a voice, someone was already choosing, already wishing, already making space for me to arrive.
Welcome to the world, baby girl!😘
