Hello, my world!

Letters to my daughter [Part 1/n]

March 20, 2026
Charlotte Cafe (Opposite NYU Langone Hospital)
New York City

I must start with a confession. The exact moment at which you were conceived, my mind was elsewhere. Your mother and I had agreed we wanted to try having kids, and it was she who was keeping track of fertility cycles. I had been in Vegas for about a month already, playing the World Series of Poker, and your mother had come to visit me. I was staying at the Aria. WSOP is an incredibly draining experience, and my mind was already on the next tournament when your ma asked me to perform the act. Therefore, I was not fully present when you were conceived. Please feel free to bring this up when we have arguments.

We got the news that your ma is pregnant after I got back from Vegas. Your mother was happy, cautiously happy. I didn’t know how to feel. Telling family felt nice, I guess. The visits to the clinic started soon after. Like all important decisions your ma and I make, we spent exactly two minutes deciding the clinic. As a result, we ended up commuting from Jersey City to various parts of Manhattan for about twenty times during the pregnancy. This was fun initially, but got harder as the snow came on and you became bigger.

Around November, your mother got diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes (nothing serious, but she had to bid farewell to that jar of Nutella). This is when she started to display the incredible toughness and strength of character I have known in her since I met her back in college. This was also the time she was working a new job, but she managed everything with signature aplomb. It was our first winter on the East Coast, but to be honest we loved it.

And December rolled into January, bringing with it fresh snow. A couple of snowstorms later, we found ourselves in the middle of February. My sister and brother-in-law and their two sons visited us from Pittsburgh, providing us a nice change from the routine of appointments and an insight into what was to come. Niam was two and a half then, and Kavi just 6 months old.

We were asked to check into NYU Langone Hospital on March 16 at 10 am, and your ma was induced by 11 am. For the next 40 hours, she slowly dilated to the required 10 cm, and began to push at 1 am on March 18. She pushed and she pushed, twice during every contraction cycle, each cycle lasting 3-4 minutes. She pushed and she pushed, but you didn’t budge an inch. Finally at 4 am the doctor said you had decided not to come down the traditional way, and we were going to have to cut your ma open.

An hour later, she was in the operation theater, and I beside her, with 15 other people doing things we didn’t understand. An emergency C-section was performed, by this time your ma’s face had turned white as a ghost, and all she was saying was coming out as a whisper, “I want water, please.” But it was against the protocol to give her water then, so she was kept thirsty. I remember thinking no baby can be worth the pain your ma was in, and yet your ma was enduring it with a mere grimace. And that, my child, is why you must always take care of her before anyone else in the world.

At 6 am, they put you in my arms, and you were the most wonderfully beautiful helpless thing I had ever held. I looked into your eyes, and promised myself I will be present for you – always.

And this is how you came to be. Hello, my world!