Princess what? Princess Diana, Princess Isabella, Princess Elizabeth. No just Princess. All my life I have been questioned about my name. The most common reaction is 2 lines forming between someone’s eye brows with the most confused face someone can have. Then seconds later chuckling and once again asking “No, what is your real name?” Now this time the word “real” has been emphasized.
So whose brilliant idea was it to name me Princess? I guess we can blame it on my mother. Let’s start off by telling you how I got this name.
Once upon a time… in a land far far away (well really not that far away here in New York) my mother was about to give birth. She didn’t trust the hospital near where we lived at the time or any other hospital that was not in Manhattan. She called a cab to take her to the city. With traffic jams, during rush hour she felt as if I was going to be born in the back of the cab and all she could do was hope for the best. Somehow her prayers were answered and she got to the hospital before it was time. The cab driver offered to take her in and she thought she could make it since it was only a few steps till the entrance.
As she wanted to start walking, she couldn’t move at all. Her feet didn’t obey the chemical signals sent from her brain (probably not right, but you get the point). She’s told me this story a billion and one times and she keeps changing it but somehow as a firefighter was coming out of the emergency room, he had seen her struggling to move and had ran up to her and had said, “Are you okay miss? Did your water break?” My mom with her not so great English at the time had understood if she would like some water. She happily said yes of course and the next thing she knew she was swung off her feet, onto his “strong muscular, vein popping” hands. He rushed her in and had said “SHE’S GIVING BIRTH. SHE”S GIVING BIRTH!”
You know what happens next. As she heard me screaming all she could do was smile. It was all over. Her second son was born. The doctor held me and as she was passing me onto my mother’s hands she congratulated my mom saying “It’s a girl.” My parents never knew if I was going to be a boy or a girl because the doctor had told that it was a 50/50 chance. As my mom held me onto her arms as sweat dripped down her forehead she asked the doctor that helped deliver me, her name. The doctor smiled and showed her, her name tag. It read “Dr. Princess B.” Till this day she can’t remember her last name but does swear that her first name was Princess.
So instead of being Jessica G. Reinoso, I was changed to be Princess G. Reinoso. She hopes, my mother that is, that I can grow up and be a doctor one day. Just like the doctor that delivered me. Beautiful, intelligent, friendly, and caring. Little does my mom know that the sight of blood makes me faint, that I don’t understand biology for my life, and I cannot stick a needle into anyone.
So here I am at Baruch trying to study anything other than the science field. Because if I became a doctor, we would have no hope.
P.S. My dad thought I was a boy. He arrived at the hospital that afternoon with my brother in his hand, a bouquet of roses for my mom, and the biggest bluest balloon in hand reading “It’s a boy.” My mom laughed at the site as she said go take a look for yourself. I understand you can’t really tell ESPECIALLY when babies are just born if they’re a boy or a girl but my dad’s mind was set. He even said, “that’s my boy.” My mom couldn’t stop laughing that she asked my dad to change my diaper. He thought my mom was crazy because of giving birth he just gave her that, we’ll get you some help smile. He grabbed me in his arms. Opened the diaper, and…Surprise! It was me. A girl. My dad faced turned completely red with tears running down both his cheeks and the biggest smile a man could have as he ran to kiss my mother.
Your royal highness, it is honor to bestowed the privilege of being informed on the secret behind the name. * bows* The story is a comical and will be treasured in the warmest confinements of my heart forever.
I’m impressed how honest you are with the expectations placed on you by your mother, and your frankness of their impossibility. I hope you find your calling(s), and don’t end up stabbing anyone with needles. You are such a deft individual, whose present and future holds greatness in store. You will continue to astonish people with your accomplishments and prove them wrong, bringing them to tears of admiration, like when your father realized his mistake. Keep blessing us with your presence, insight, and thought.
I absolutely loved this blog post especially since I can totally relate. All throughout my mom’s pregnancy, my parents thought that I was a boy. They bought a bunch of baby boy stuff and I guess I was quite a surprise as well. My mom gave birth to me just months after they immigrated to America so her and my dad barely knew any English. My dad actually ended up misspelling my name on my birth certificate (its pretty confusing, my name is supposed to be Arnella, but on official records it says Arnilla (thankfully I was able to change it in school records since its such a minor thing)) and of course my mom wasn’t too happy about that.
I think the name Princess is amazing (personally I would love my name to be Princess) and it puts a great aura on you whenever someone just hears your name. I love how you decided to actually explain your name for this post because it is something interesting. When you hear an awesome name, you’re kinda like, “Wow their parents must be pretty cool.”
Other than your name, I hope you’re able to figure out what you’re passionate about within these next four years. Of course something that isn’t science related, because lets face it, needles and blood are pretty scary.