Category: Guess Who’s Expecting? I AM!!!!

Holding her for the first time

May 24, 2012.  I knew she was coming home today.  She was being delivered by UPS.  They usually come early, so imagine my disappointment when I went home for lunch and she wasn’t there.  I called to track her progress in travel.  To my dismay, no information.  As the day got later, i had given up on seeing her.  When I returned to my residence after six, I was pleased to see a yellow and brown paper attached to my door, but was slightly disappointed because I was certain that the note said, “Will try again tomorrow”.  Under normal circumstances I would have cursed at what it said.  “Package is on the deck”.  Times are hard, people steal.  If my package wasn’t there, trouble was coming.  I looked, and like a baby bird place delicately, there she was.  Covered in brown with my name on her.  I opened her and held her in my arms.  From the moment I saw her, I loved her. 

Now that I had seen her, it was time to celebrate.  I went to run two miles with Black Girls Run and then dinner with a friend.  She cooked baked chicken, twice baked potatoes, green beans and rolls.  We toasted my new arrival and her new job with a few glasses of sweet red wine.

Time to push

Words alone can’t describe how I feel right now.  I know the work and time I’ve put into creating her just as I’d like her to be.  But there’s something magical about the first glance.  She looks good to me….inside and out.  And I can’t wait to hold her in my arms.  I can’t wait for you to see her, to hold her.  This journey has been long.  From the introduction that I was expecting, to morning sickness, to false labor, to being eight centimeters dilated.  I’ve enjoyed every moment and I’ve enjoyed sharing these moments with you.  I’ll just say I can’t wait to introduce her to everyone.

8 centimeters dilated….she’s almost here

The time is drawing near.  My “baby” girl will be here in no time.  Generally, I like to think that my birthday is a national holiday and at the very minimum, a week long celebration.  this year, i guess I won’t mind sharing MY time with this bundle of joy.  In fact, nothing would make me happier. 

This morning, I awoke to an email with an edited draft of my next book.  I really do love her already, even though I’ve not yet seen her.  I’ve dreamed of her arrival.  I’ve dreamed of holding her.  And finally, she really is almost here.  I know that showers are normally given pre-baby.  But I’ve never done what everyone else does.  Stay tuned for an invite to the party.

Going into labor

I didn’t close my eyes until after 2 o’clock this morning because my mind was racing.  I knew that as the darkness turned to day it would be time to “induce” labor.  I had hoped to get some rest and sleep in.  Unfortunately, my body and mind had other plans.  I opened my eyes at the same time my alarm usually chimes.  I just laid in the same spot for thirty minutes trying to mentally prepare myself for the tasks ahead of me.  My journey would be taken alone and I knew noone would see me, but I still wanted to look nice.  I showered, brushed my teeth, combed my hair and put on a pair of cute black jeans, a purple top and purple heels.  As I transitioned to labor and delivery, I needed some mood music.  I logged on to Pandora and swayed to the tunes of Jill Scott, Angie Stone, Anthony Hamilton and Dana Owens. 

I expect this labor to last four to nine weeks.  I’ll keep you posted.  At 3:03 pm, I pushed the button.  “The Other Side of Joy” has been submitted.

What’s in a name?

It’s almost for “her” to enter the world.  I have everything I need for a smooth birthing.  Well, almost everything.  I need a name.  Most parents begin to think of names soon after they learn they’re expecting.  They think of boy and girl names until they find out the gender of the child.  I’ve known all along that I was “having” a girl.  The name had to be feminine and represent who I see her to be.  As I typed the words, I had a paper that I’d jot names on.  If I came up with something during the day, I’d add it when I came home.  And now, it’s time I choose a name.  I’m still torn between a few.

If you’d like to voice your opinion, please leave a comment here or on my Facebook page.!/apriljoybowden

Getting my groove on…

I received the first edit of the first “draft” of the first track on the CD.  When I pushed play, I was more excited than the very first time I heard the playback.  There’s something about pushing “PLAY” on media player and hearing my voice that sends chills up my spine.  Those chills continued when I burned the track to play in my car.  I pushed “PLAY” and as the music started I was stopped at a traffic light.  My windows were down and the volume was up.  I was getting my groove on at that traffic light and looking forward to the day I pull up to a light on someone who has the windows down and the volume up and I realize that what they have on “PLAY” is me.

A little sister is on the way too

I’ve always known that should I decide to have a little one that it would really have to be at least a little two.  Growing up with siblings that got on my nerves, I’ve always been more grateful to have someone to bug me than to be solo.  It was never fun being blamed for things I didn’t do, but I grew to appreciate how life would come full circle when it was time to do the blaming.

Pushing out this second “baby” is going to be more difficult than her sibling.  I’ll have to keep my mind and body in perfect harmony to handle being the single parent to two babies so close together in age.

I found out nine days ago that I have a new respect for parents who “birth” children similar to my other child.  I took my first trip to a new birthing room.  This room was a lot smaller than my other room, it was soundproof and my other “birthing coach” never left my side.  This room was cool and noisy, yet somehow also very serene.  As the music played in the background, I was instructed to listen for a minute, feel the beat and begin”pushing” whenever I was ready.  With the headphones attached and a microphone three inches away from my mouth, with my scratchy, getting over a cold voice, I spoke sweetly about my first love.  The feeling I had when I heard my own voice over the music and through the speakers was beyond amazing.  I had recorded the first demo track for baby number 2… poetry CD.

I pray that she also  enters the world before fall 2012.  This process won’t be easy, but she’s so worth it to me.  I plan to do whatever I need to do to see her here safely.

False Labor

Oh my goodness!  I feel like I’m going to pop.  My heart is racing.  My stomach is queasy.  And today, more than before I am anxiously awaiting her arrival.  I can’t sit still.  I’m pacing back and forth.  I’m sending text messages to my birthing coach because I want to scream and desire a hand to squeeze.  My text is returned and I’m told I have to wait twenty minutes before my call is returned.  Urghhhh!!!!   I know I still have a way to go before it’s really time.  But I am so excited that THE FIRST DRAFT IS COMPLETE!!!!  She is coming.  And perhaps sooner than I expected.

The “Birthing” Room

It’s always interesting to me to meet couples who have been together for a few years and hear the stories about the early years.  I like to know how they met, where they met, if the proposal was romantic, etc, etc.  There’s something about love that always puts a smile on my face.  And then there’s something about watching someone be so passionate about another (when it goes both ways), be so passionate about a craft and be so passionate about things in life that bring so much joy.

Ever wonder where “babies” come from?  Are you curious what inspired your favorite song writer to jot down lyrics that climbed the charts?  Have you ever wondered where the idea of “The Cosby Show”, “The Young & The Restless” or “The Amazing Race” came from.  Where were the writers, the clothing designers, the painters and the architects when they first envisioned their “child”?  Did they nurthure their ideas in a car, in front of a computer, in a college dorm room?

I pictured my “baby” in elementary school.  I always enjoyed poetry and kept journals/diaries from a very early age.  I can remember my mom finding a diary and reading it.  I felt so violated that she would actually read MY diary.  Not only did she read it, she confronted me about its contents.  For a long time, I decided I didn’t want to write anything else on paper.  I would keep my thoughts in my head.  But the joy I received from writing wouldn’t allow me to just give it up.  My passion and my desire couldn’t keep the words from falling onto the pages.  Instead, I found a better hiding place for my diary and I kept on writing!!!  I wrote on the front porch.  I wrote in my tent (blankets draped over the bunk bed) with a flashlight to illuminate the pages.  I wrote on the school bus.  I wrote in class when I was supposed to be paying attention.  I wrote on napkins at restaurants.  I JUST WROTE.

Today, I still use some of those places.  But today my “birthing room” is lit dimly by multi colored dragonfly lights that flicker in the background.  It’s fragrant with the aroma of Morning Dew or Pink Sands.  It’s mellow with the soothing sounds of smooth R&B or a majestic thunder storm.  Birthing classes last 45-120 minutes.  A white wine, moscato or sweet red is usually enjoyed during class.  And like lots of expecting mothers, I’m taking notes along the way so I won’t forget my journey into “motherhood”.

I can’t wait to share this “baby” with my friends, family and the literary world.


As I’ve gotten older and spend most of my day punching a clock, it seems that most of my extracurricular activities happen after the sun goes down. I’ve noticed that these activities include writing.  When I’m off during the day and free to write, somehow; it always seems strange to me.  My lamps and candles are replaced by natural sunlight.  I f I choose the radio, the late night slow jams are replaced by more upbeat music.  And the sounds of the quiet evening are replaced with foot and car traffic, conversation and the hustle and bustle of the day.  As much as I enjoy the natural sunlight, I must say that perhaps for me and for my writing; the night time is the right time.  I guess that means on most days I’ll keep doing my thing when the sun goes down.  Not feeling the morning sickness!