text: I look down to the crib and there is Aishling, quietly napping with her minuscule hands covering her face, just as I had left her 5 minutes ago. You’d know the feeling if you’re a parent. The first few weeks can be summed up to awkwardly watching the baby sleep while thoughts and emotions overload your being. Fear, that it’ll choke on its own saliva. Wonder, about having contributed to the birth of a living entity. Speculation, on its health and acquisition of sensations. That’s how my mom would describe the first few weeks of my birth. I can’t imagine the overwhelming situation that they had to go through. Today, I stare at Aishling, and none of these emotions or thoughts come to mind. I love my daughter, but it is her development that intrigues me. I could hear Christine’s soft steps approach me. She gently wraps her arms around me from behind, peaking at Aishling from the side. - “How much do you love our little daughter” She asked as she joined me in contemplating the baby. - “Hah, words can’t describe my love for her, I already told you.” She reaches her hand into the crib and caresses Aishling’s fingers. - “I feel she’s a bit cold.” - “Yeah, I’ll turn up the heat in a bit” Christine holds me tighter around her arms. - “I think we made the right decision, going for this option.” - “Yeah, I agree.” Silence filled Aishling’s pink bedroom, but the thoughts going through my mind were almost deafening. It was the same kind of silence which loomed over every sitting with my wife. That is, every sitting we had as a couple, ever since the day the doctor had diagnosed me with low sperm count. We both loved children and couldn’t wait to have our own. We shared intrigue and excitement about being able to raise critical thinkers, who’d defy the nonsense of everyday conversations, and lead fulfilling lives. The stillness of the bedroom reminded me of how much infertility had at some point strained our marriage. That time when the house, in its entirety, stood quietly still, only interrupted by the faint weeping of Christine in the bathroom. Whenever I brought up the subject of my infertility, she would always say that “its ok” and expressed her unconditional love for me. But I could still feel the void that grew between us. Since the day she made her way into our home, Aishling filled that void with tenderness and love. - “You know, she really looks like the baby I always imagined I’d have.” - “I’m glad.” I answered. - “When do you think she’ll start crawling?” - “I don’t know? 8 months?” - “Hm, and when will she start walking?” - “Should be around the 12 months mark.” - “Ow, that’s interesting. And when will she pronounce her first word?” - “It’ll be a year and a half into her life. The word is going to be mama.” I tweaked the setting. - “Haha! That’s adorable.” Christine’s smile lit up her face. - “You still haven’t asked the most interesting question.” - “I just saved it for last. When will she gain consciousness?” - “The factory has that setting hard wired into the Bio-robotic brain. It takes the AI approximately 2 years of gathering and analyzing data.” - “What data will it gather?” Christine asked. - “Virtues and morals we teach Aishling, as well as our own behavior and habits.” - “Why does it gather our behavior and habits?” - “It allows the AI to create Aishling’s personality. It’s basically a simulation of how a human child would have developed if we had raised him or her. It needs to gather the personal characteristics of its human parents to create a unique individual.” - “I can’t wait to see how she develops. Listen, I’ll go check on the meatloaf. Make sure to unplug her from the power socket when she’s fully charged” - “I will, don’t worry. Soon enough, she’ll be doing it on her own.