Me (24 page)

Read Me Online

Authors: Ricky Martin

BOOK: Me
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But now I needed to find another, and quickly, because until that point we were referring to the baby as “Baby B” (as they labeled them on the sonograms). Still, it was not as difficult as choosing the first one. I closed my eyes and visualized a brave and fearless child. For this reason, I called him Valentino, because he is like a warrior: Valentino the valiant one.
Time has never moved more slowly in my head than during those next six months. They seemed eternal. Naturally, when a woman is pregnant with twins there is always a greater risk for complications, which of course concerned me, and I was always in close touch with the woman carrying the children, making sure that everything was running smoothly.
But in the midst of it all, what I felt in the deepest part of my soul can only be described as unadulterated bliss. Absolute happiness. I imagine that anyone who has children will wholeheartedly agree it’s like spending nine months waiting for the most incredible gift of all. All I wanted to do was stand on my rooftop and scream the great news out to the world. But I had to be very cautious, because I didn’t want anything to affect the woman who was carrying my children. I wanted her to be calm and maintain her inner peace so that her pregnancy would proceed without complications. If for whatever reason the media found out what was going on, they might have discovered who she was and then barraged her with questions and intruded on her everyday life. Besides not wanting people to bother her because I didn’t want anything to affect her or my children, I felt terribly responsible for imposing so much pressure and invading someone else’s privacy. It has been my choice to lead a public life, and for that I accept the consequences; but I would never want to impose that on someone else.
So to ensure that the secret would be kept from the rest of the world, with the exception of my parents, I only told three people. It’s not that I didn’t trust the rest of my friends, but I was nervous that it might mistakenly slip from someone’s lips out of sheer excitement, which would have been a disaster. There were even some friends—and this is when you realize who your true friends really are—who asked me not to talk to them about it, because if the news were to somehow get out to the press, they didn’t want to find themselves on the list of people who might be responsible. . . . They were with me at all times making sure I was okay, but they didn’t want to know more than what was necessary. And I will always be grateful for that loyalty and affection.
Like a good first-time father, while I waited for the boys to be born I read every book there was to read: child development books, books about twins, books about the first weeks of life. In fact, there are remarkably few books available about being a single father (and those that are available primarily focus on what to do after divorce), and I wanted to be fully informed on the subject by the time they were born. So I spent all of my time reading, learning, preparing. My mind was like a sponge; I wanted to know anything and everything about how to be the best father possible. At the same time, I was fully aware that most of what it’s really like to be a father can’t be learned in any book, nor passed on from person to person. It’s an instinct that only shows itself when you hold your baby in your arms, and learn to interpret his various cries, laughs, smiles, and motions. An instinct that you never know you have until you reach that moment.
I was at the hospital when they came into the world. My sons were born via a C-section, and immediately after they were born they were brought to my room, where the incubator /warmer was waiting for them. There was a nurse there who checked all their vitals: their pulses, temperatures, color, size, everything. She shook those poor little boys, and they would tremble as they cried. Even though I was so excited that I felt I might explode, I didn’t cry. Not even a little bit. I was so elated that I wanted to scream, “Give them to me!” I wanted to say to the nurse the minute she came into the room, “I want to hold them right now!”
The next few weeks were almost a blur. Like almost all new parents, I was totally obsessed with my children. I didn’t want to miss a moment of their existence. They were the most beautiful babies I have ever seen, and I stared at them constantly. I almost never put them down when they were awake. And I didn’t sleep. In your more “typical” newborn household, there are usually two parents and one baby; shared responsibility; and a little time to rest. In my case, it was two babies and one parent, and rest wasn’t an option. But I didn’t care. Don’t get me wrong. I was never alone during those days; I was always surrounded by the people I love most, and everyone was more than willing to help. But there are certain things I wanted to do on my own. (You know, little things like feeding, bathing, diapering, and putting the babies to sleep.) And because I do everything to the extreme, I wanted to do it for both of them at exactly the same time.
I have a close friend who is a doctor, and she reminded me that I had to keep them on a schedule or it would simply be impossible for everyone. But the one thing I forgot to do was to keep myself on the same schedule! As any new parent knows, there’s a basic rule: When the baby sleeps, you sleep. Period. Whether it’s for ten minutes or an hour, it may be the only sleep you get that day. But I refused; I was so enamored of them that when they slept, the only thing I wanted to do was just watch
them
sleep! It got to a point where my mother (who was with me from the day they were born) said to me, “Son, you are a zombie. You are talking to me and falling asleep in the middle of what you are saying. Please, please put your head on the pillow and get some rest. You are an incredible father, but please, let us help you.” I listened to her and was asleep within seconds. But that’s literally what it took for me to close my eyes and get some rest. I just didn’t want to miss a single moment of my sons’ lives. I still don’t. But I learned an important lesson in those first few weeks: that I need to take care of myself so that I am able to take care of them.
I will never forget the moment that each of them looked into my eyes for the very first time. Those were the most precious moments in my entire life. The moments I hadn’t even realized I had been waiting for. They were
OUR
moments.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later that the tears finally came. I had sat down to watch some television while the boys were asleep, and a show came on that mentioned the birth of my sons—by then the news had leaked out to the press. The anchorwoman suddenly looked at the camera and said, “We are very happy for you, Ricky. You deserve all the best. Congratulations!” Then everything hit me at once. I think it finally clicked right then that these two little ones who were sleeping in their cribs were actually
my
sons! And I was their
father
! It was a beautiful thing. But a very intense feeling coursed through my entire being, a joy so profound I couldn’t stop crying. My father came over and hugged me for a long time—it was incredibly overwhelming.
ALL KINDS OF FAMILIES
THERE ARE PEOPLE who say that this isn’t fair, that in order to have balance, children need a mother and a father. And I say they are mistaken. How many millions of children grow up without a mother? Or moreover, how many of them grow up with a mother who does not love them? How many millions of kids grow up without a father? Or worse, knowing that their father exists, but doesn’t get involved with their lives because he doesn’t love them. According to the census bureau of the United States, the number of single parents who live with their children increased by 25 percent during the 1990s. When my sons ask me, I am going to say: “I wanted to have you so very badly that, with God’s help, everything lined up so that you would come into my life.”
I am also here to say that there are also many successful people who were raised without a mother or father. For example, the vice president of the United States, Joe Biden, was a single father who raised his sons after his wife and daughter were both killed in a car accident. The president of the United States, Barack Obama, was raised without a father. There are also the Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps, President Bill Clinton, Bill Cosby, Tom Cruise, Christina Aguilera, Julia Roberts, Demi Moore, Alicia Keys, Angelina Jolie . . . just to name a few. So, in this day and age, single-parent families may be more common than society would like to think. I also know plenty of people who grew up in a home with both a mother and father and have unfortunately turned out to be very lost, unhappy, and problematic human beings.
Besides, if you think that because I am a single father my boys are not surrounded by wonderful women, don’t worry—they are. My mother, for example, plays a critical role in their lives, and informs me as a father. She is the firm hand that guides me, always teaching me about the endless hard work that goes into being a father. But above all else, she gives them all the love in the world, and then some. And many of my closest friends are incredible women who love my children like aunts. Ultimately that’s what matters most: It is exactly the same thing if my sons receive love from a father, a mother, a grandparent, an aunt, an uncle, or a friend. The important thing is that they receive and continue to receive it for the rest of their lives.
My sons are growing up surrounded by people who adore them, and who want the best for them. I consider it a privilege. I want them to grow up with open minds, and to be surrounded by other children who have the same. They will have no problem being raised by a father who is both their father and mother. On the contrary: They will be proud of their family, because thanks to it, they will see the world without prejudices and without judging others. It is something I have noted in other children of single fathers who have done the same thing as me. They are kids who are on a very special level.
The day that Matteo and Valentino ask me why they don’t have a mother, I will explain to them that every family is unique. There are families who have a father, a mother, and a baby. There are families who have a father, a mother, and two babies. There are families who have a father, a mother, and five babies. There are families who only have one mother with four or five babies. There are families who have two mothers and two babies. There are other families that consist of two people who love each other but don’t have any babies. In this moment, my sons have a father who does the work of both a father and a mother with two babies, and that is what makes our family unique. And being unique is fabulous.
I am ready for the question because I know that when they are ready, they will ask it of me. The moment a child is able to process a question, it is because he is ready to receive information about the question and to understand the truth about the answer. If that answer has too much information for their mind, then they’ll just ignore it and go on playing with their toys for another couple of months, until they are ready to ask the question again. Regardless of how many times they ask me and how many times I have to answer it, I will continue to explain it to them again and again until they comprehend it well.
I know I want to have more kids one day, because it has been so incredible to have them by my side, almost constantly. In the two years since they were born, I’ve never spent more than two nights away from them, and that was only once. Like most parents, I don’t want to be away from them for even a moment, because every day brings something unique and new. I’m grateful to have the ability to organize my life to suit their needs, and I have the privilege of being present for all of their first milestones in life. I deeply treasure the time I spend with them, and I love watching everything they do and hearing all the things that have started coming out of their mouths. Even though they are twins, born on the same day, each one has his own personality and way of doing things. They are individuals, and yet they complement each other perfectly.
They have taught me lot. From them I have learned the meaning of unconditional love, and in my experience of love I can say there is nothing quite like this. It doesn’t matter what I may be doing for them—be it feeding them, changing their diapers, or bathing them—what I always get back is a smile. It’s truly all they have to give, and they give it to me, over and over again! When they flash that smile at me, I think, “The world could fall apart tomorrow, but it wouldn’t matter to me. This is the greatest joy imaginable.”
Most people give because they want to receive. It’s like a transaction—if you love me, I’ll love you, and if you give me a hug, I’ll give it back to you. In couples’ relationships, with colleagues, and with friends it is often like that, right? If you love me with two steps, I’ll love you back with two steps. But this love is not like that. This is true love. With this love, there is nothing else to search for. And this type of love begins when one begins to love one’s self. When we learn to accept and love ourselves just as we are, that’s when we can start to give love without expecting anything in return. Then we will find that we receive so much more love than we could ever imagine. Because when others see that we are full of love and that we give without expectations, they are not afraid to fully open up.
I am concerned about the fact that my sons will have to learn how to grow up in the public eye, and that there are people who are going to want to invade their personal lives for the simple fact that they are my sons. This makes me anxious, not only because it has already started but also because I wanted to avoid it completely. But unfortunately, or fortunately, this is the life they were given and this is the path they will have to take. And they’ll simply have to handle it each in his own way.
What is certain is that I will not allow my children to grow up in a cage. Life should be lived fully, and in that regard, I want my boys to be healthy, to acquire their own character traits and personalities as they grow, through their individual life experiences. I don’t want them to be afraid of anything; I want them to be transparent and free, and more than anything, I want them to travel and see the world.

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