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660words
My mother, have clocked a record-breaking five-minute delivery, became the hospital's hottest topic.
Expectant mothers flocked to see her, hoping to catch some of her "easy labor" luck.
My mother held me proudly.
"Honestly, I don't know what happened. I barely pushed—she practically delivered herself."
"You mean the baby just... slipped out? That's incredible! She must be incredibly so clever!"
"Clever? Wasn’t she the one who untangled herself from the cord earlier?"
So, following my mother, Chloe Summers, I became the darling of the maternity ward.
Expectant mothers came by every day, bringing toys, lifting me up to press against their bellies, begging me to“pass some smarts” to their unborn sons and daughters.
Pass on wisdom? Not happening.
But I made sure to greet every visitor with wide eyes and a gummy smile.
Grinding in the womb was limited one thing— after birth the real work began.
Looks, personality, charm – it all needed cultivating from day one.
"This baby has the sweetest temperament! Smiling at everyone, like a little cherub!"
"Absolutely! TShe's definitely an angel baby. You're so lucky, Chloe. Unlike your neighbor in the next bed..."
I was nearly asleep, but my ears perked up instantly.
The neighbor? That had to be Luna Sterling's mother.
It was strange.
Luna's mother and mine were wheeled into delivery rooms at the same time.
Two days later, I was already opening my eyes and smiling at people, yet they still hadn't returned. Even a difficult labor shouldn't take that long.
My mother, tuned into my love for gossip since the womb, seemed to read my unspoken question.
"You mean Mrs. Sterling? What happened? Trouble with the delivery?"
"Big trouble! Just like you initially – cord wrapped, breech position. Heard she hemorrhaged badly, struggled for a full day and night—still in ICU."
"That's awful! Why didn't they do a C-section?"
"She refused! Insisted a natural birth makes smarter babies. Wouldn't even take an epidural—went completely natural!"
My mother went pale, clutching me tighter, patting her chest in relief.
"Good girl, thank you for not putting Mommy through that."
Three days after my birth, my mother—luggage in one hand and me in the other—transferred to the hospital's affiliated postpartum recovery center.
There, my discipline reached a whole new levels.
7 AM, feeding, exercise (kicking, stretching), vocal practice.
10 AM, feeding, listening to classical piano, napping.
12 PM, feeding, listening to BBC World Service, more napping...
Strict physique management.
Well-rounded development, intellect, physique, character, arts.
Two weeks passed.
I thought I wouldn't see Luna again until we were three or four, but Luna's mother somehow ended up sharing a suite with us again!
And this time, she wasn't alone. Alongside her came family and in-laws—including the formidable Matriarch Sterling was present.
Seeing that familiar, stern yet gentle face, I knew speaking this early was unwise, but couldn't help myself.
I blurted out my first word—
"Grammy!"
That single word plunged the buzzing room into stunned silence.
Everyone turned to stare at me.
"Did... did that sound come from this baby?"
"Impossible! She's barely two weeks old! No baby talks that early!"
"Well, there are only two babies here. That was clearly a tiny voice. If not her, then... the other one? Word is, that baby can barely suckle—needs tube feeding. No way she could shout that loud!"
Luna's mother stared at me, her face a mix of shock, suspicion, and burning envy.
I glanced at the wilted-looking Luna in her arms and instantly dismissed her.
I turned back to Matriarch Sterling, squeezing my chubby cheeks into a smile.
"Gram—my—!"
If the first "Grammy" was a fluke, the second one shattered Matriarch Sterling's composure.
"That child... is she calling me Grammy?"
"Oh, sweetheart... Come to Grammy... Goodness, those little hands, those big eyes... Why, she looks just like I did as a baby! Beautiful!"
