a friend...

6:35 AM Tuesday, May 29, 2007

... hears the song in my heart, and sings it to me when my memory fails. (Anonymous)

My second confinement for this month (acute gastroenteritis) which lasted for some 5 days found me in the lowest of lows. I was just too tired and feeling too dumb and helpless. The fact that I actually got sick enough to require confinement (which I may not have needed had I not been pregnant) was just too much to bear, along with the guilt over the expense, my capacity as a mother, the safety of my unbonr, and the burden I was putting on my husband.

It was just too much. I literally cried and cried buckets because there was nothing else I could do. I was just tired. And I was ready to give up... the old usual escape of wishing I could just curl up and die was too tempting.

I'm going to sound overly redundant but really, I was just too tired.

Then my friend Jaejay pays me a visit in the hospital. He wanted to bring me his pasalubongs from the US, push incentives really: a Discovery Channel documentary on the Human Body, a 2-gig hi-speed SD card for my cam (for taking lots of pics once my little one is out) and an I Hope You Dance Journal.

He was a friend I met over the net around some four years ago... we've seen each other about once or twice a year at most. We mainly chat or e-mail each other... or text. He was one of two friends who went to Pyro's wake to console me, and condole with my family. And he remembered how touched I was before when a friend shared with me the inspirational song I blogged about.

He reminded me to dance. And as if woken from a dream, I slowly got myself together enough to express myself better and get my significant others to really be able to help me.

Jaejay heard the song in my heart... and sang it to me when my memory failed. Hopefully, I don't fail him and really keep on dancing this time.

For the mp3 of the song, click here.


Labski, hope you're finding Texas a lot friendlier and rewarding the second time around. And that you'd get yourself a date for that something you've already bought tickets for. Mwah!


One other thing that greatly humbled me while I was at the labor room, having my contractions monitored lest they really trigger premature labor, was the fact that during the time Py was sick, all of us who loved him dearly wished we could suffer the cancer in his stead. It's still heartbreaking to think of all those times he had to be poked and prodded and tampered with just so he can be saved...

And I thought then... my illness and the pregnancy discomforts that had me so compromised the past months are still nothing compared to what he had to go thru. And I had a chance to do for my baby what his mother couldn't do for him. I could take better care of myself, and I could suffer the confinement, just so I could save my baby.

I also thought then... that maybe this is some kind of life deposit I was making. Suffering now would spare my child. Or at least teach me important lessons i'd need to be a better parent.

But then, depression struck me... and it was only after being able to bounce back that I realized how Py still has much to teach me. I wrote in my IHYDJ (I hope you dance journal):

"Pyro kept dancing till the end, despite the tears and the trauma, he didn't stop being a child, he didn't lose his sense of wonder. Even his morose, whimpering attitude on his last few days don't seem to me as if he stopped dancing. I know he was just sad he couldn't dance to the beat we wanted anymore."


I face more trials and challenges and stumbling blocks and unknowns... I vow to dance around and over them to get to the opportunities and rewards and bliss.


addendum: June 01, 2007
Around a month before we found out Py was sick, I blogged about dancing with him. I was reminded of that entry by MommyBa's comment about how Py is still dancing with me.

happy mother's day

12:01 AM Sunday, May 13, 2007

* painting by Pablo Picasso

One thing I realized, it ain't always bad to turn out like your Mom :)

I know I have friends...

12:40 PM Friday, May 11, 2007

... I mean, I have dozens of numbers in my cellphone, numbers of people who I text with a lot.

... and dozens of people I forward funny e-mails to.

I also attend a lot of weddings and christenings and birthdays. I even visit them in hospitals. I attend bridal and baby showers. I send Christmas cards during the Holidays. I ask for prayers from them in times of need. I also say prauers for them in times of their need.

I am the person they call when they have questions on sex, or their wedding plans... even their lactating and gestating issues. I am the person they call when they have issues with our other friends, or if they're in the middle of illicit affairs.

A lot of them even attended my wedding.

But I really felt sad that when Pyro died, only two of them came to mourn with me. Colleagues came but my husband had more colleagues who visited the wake, and they even brought along their best friends and girl friends. But of my friends, only two came.

And then last week, I had to be admitted in the hospital for 'threatened abortion'. In the four days that I was there, only my siblings and mother-in-law came to visit. Sure, the closest ones who knew I was hospitalized texted to say they're offering prayers... and that was that.


I will never downplay the importance of kind words sent through text messages and letters and e-mails because they do provide me with comfort. It's just that, it would be nice to actually have a friend present at your side, to cry to, to hold your hand, to give you a pat on the back. Heck, even scold you and make you feel like a naughty little child.

I've always thought it my duty to my loved ones to be PRESENT physically... that the best gift there could be is the gift of my TIME. And I hope I have managed my priorities well that i've been that kind of friend to my friends.

And yes, I wish my friends would give me the same gift sometimes... especially when I really need it.


Fortunately for me, my best friends took great care of me during my time of need: my husband and my sister.

eldest woes and blues

4:02 PM Tuesday, May 01, 2007

the following rant may not even be true of all eldests, and may be true of other children, no matter their birth-order... but anyway

As a child, I didn't particularly feel the pressure of having to be a role model. Mainly because my younger sibling was a boy, and my parents (particularly my Mom) had enough double-standards to make me feel like a separate entity from my brother. But of course, it sucked being expected to be more patient and understanding... when your brother is all kinds of annoying. And yes, it sucked that I was expected to help clean up his mess and all those sh!t but still get the smaller piece of candy (because he likes it, and would eat up his share quickly, so i'd have to give up my share).

Later on, i'd realize Mom treated us that way because she felt my brother needed more understanding... more loving. Family dynamics. Ugh.

Anyway, i've always felt like a juggler in the circus... that it was up to me to do something to balance everything in the family. I intercede when irrational parents have a tiff with my siblings. I intercede when siblings are being very irresponsible. (Not that I was ever a saint myself... )

I think I was the one who also learned the most from my parents' sacrifices... leading me to decisions that allows for a comfortable life right now. Sure, being academically-gifted was a plus, but it wasn't like I never studied or turned in projects. I was responsible with my life... being aware of the hardships my parents went through just to give us the middle-income life we enjoyed.

And even now that am married, i've remained so involved with my first family. I worry along with my parents about what will happen to my siblings, and what to do when a parent (or both) dies.

I married a firstborn son. And we often wonder if other married couples have as many morbid and serious discussions as we do. For every check-up or confinement a parent undergoes, we take up again discussions of 'what if's' (what if a sibling has to live with us, what if a parent is all alone na, what if a parent requires constant family care, etc). We worry about our parents and about our siblings... while also worrying about our own problems.

And despite having our plate full ourselves, our parents would turn to us first in times of crisis. We're who they depend on to pick up their slack. In a weird way, we're now also parents to our siblings... and sort of in-charge of our parents.

It's a privilege i'm really honored to have. It's a responsibility I would never dream of turning my back on. But sometimes, I just really can't help but wish that younger siblings could be a little more considerate and involved. I just really wish parents would stop treating younger children as if they have to be protected from harsh realities of life (esply when they already hit 20, i think everything's fair game already)... and thus stop enabling them to be dependent.


Then again, I am just about to start on my journey to parenthood. What do I really know? And since i'd never be a younger sibling, I also wouldn't know what particular expectations they have to deal with.

But still... am sure... there's a reason why firstborns are the usual neurotic ones... and the control-freaks :D