MEComposing

Because of my pregnancy, my sister resigned herself to the fact that i'd be busy come her graduation. And because myn parents prioritized buying a car abroad in preparation of her settling there, she resigned herself further that no parent will be present at her graduation.

So she kept reminding my cousin and my brotehr and sister-in-law to make time for her on her graduation. And she'd bombard them with text messages and woeful self-pitying at night.

I knew she'd have loved it if I could be available but I simply couldn't, exclusively breastfeeding as I am and recuperating from my CS delivery. And that week she was about to march down that aisle and claim her diploma, we had some falling out.

What she didn't know was that we've all known for months that my Mom is using her last money to come home and surprise her. Not sure if my Mom gave in to my pestering about how our youngest deserves a parent to be there for her, or she's been planning it all along.

Anyway, two days before her graduation, my sister was as usual lamenting the fact that she will be without a parent (and i like to believe, more depressed than usual because I haven't forgiven her yet... made all the more unbearable because she couldn't play with my baby all she wants given that we're not on speaking terms). Unbeknownst to her, my hubs and brother went to fetch my Mom at the airport.

My cousin left her to mull over her sad thoughts for a while... and then a knock came and she screamed in surprise to see her mother at my (old) bedroom door. I guess you could say she was immensely surprised and happy.

That night, we also made up.

I would admit to sadness that I was unable to see my sister, my very first baby, cross this particular threshold in all the pomp and boring ritual of a graduation rite. And as much as a relief this must be for my parents to finally graduate from paying tuition fees and what-not, i'm sure my Mom also was not without sadness when she watched her baby all made up and marching down that aisle.

Congratulations to both...

And world, we let loose on you another Nursing grad... one who didn't read my instructions posted on the fridge yesterday and fed my baby cold breastmilk while I was away. Yes, heaven help us all.

But I love her so much... and am so proud of these two women in my life.

It's still not as huge as Mall of Asia, which has its own Ocean Adventure park, carnival and convention center, but since it's almost my second home, the opening of Robinson's Place's Midtown Wing (and the return of Starbucks, bless me) is such a thrill treat for yours truly.

I don't really care about the new shops and resto... but I am amazed at the sheer size of this addition... to think i've been going to Rob since it was only a small, solitary building and rife with bad publicity (the snake child thing and the booming sex trade). I guess you could say, I grew with this mall. Hehe.

Marianette Amper is not a prisoner of war. She was a 12-year old child living in one of the most beautiful places i've ever been to...

She was not a prisoner of war. She was not exactly choice-less. I don't even think she's the poorest girl there is. Other girls in Africa probably have sadder plights, have had more bad days. But at age 12, she's gotten to a point already where she was without hope.

And all that's left of her is a notebook turned into a diary, detailing her sadness over not being able to go to school... over their poverty... over her parents' fights.

I can't even begin to consider the implication of Marianette Amper... partly because I may have been part of the problem that had given her no hope, no reprieve, no guiding light, no saving grace. She is yet another child victimized by the collective decisions and complacency and corruption and selfishness of the adults around her.

Always, it is the innocents that have to be sacrificed.

a bigkis is a piece of cloth tied around a baby's waist, esply newborns to prevent gas and the baby's pee from getting to his belly button. some say it also prevents hernia in baby boys, and give baby girls tiny waists.

*~*

I have a teeny-weeny problem.

During my pregnancy, all my Mom asked was that I use a bigkis on my son, and that we use a book for his first pillow. That's all.

Well, using a bigkis is not in vogue anymore. It really doesn't have any medical relevance, and considering the heat in Manila, is just annoying for a baby and additional laundry really.

But I still bought 6 pieces of bigkis (the new type with ribbons, and not the triangular cloth pieces) because I did intend for my son to wear them... esply if my Mother came home for his birth.

But she didn't. She opted rather to delay her homecoming to time it with my sister's, her youngest child, graduation this November. So the wearing of the bigkis was also delayed.

And because my baby sometimes get fussy, we don't know whether to connect it to the two occasions I did use a bigkis on him.

Anyway, am now bent on using a bigkis on my son... esply since he is gassy but mostly because my Mom arrives in 4 days. And why do I want to please my Mom so where this is concerned, you ask, considering I didn't heed her other advices (like mix feeding and continuing to work)? It's really because of Mamay, my maternal grandma.

Using a bigkis is a Filipino tradition that is still alive in many provinces and households in the country. And it's a tradition Mamay passed onto my Mom, which I had always wanted to be passed to me. It's not harmful in any way, anyway, and the concept would always take me back to a childhood when Mamay was alive and i'd watch her, or her daughters (my Mom or aunt), wrap this triangular cloth around a baby's waist, snugly, before putting any other piece of clothing on the baby.

A bigkis bound a waist, and it has binded me to dreams of motherhood as well. In the same way that i've always known i'd be a mother, in the same way that i've always wanted to be a mother, I have also always known i'd use a bigkis on my child. Just because.

I admit my beloved grandmother is probably frowning that she has yet to see me lovingly dedicated to this particular tradition, but she must also be smiling too because I remember her more and more now, as the years pass and I grow old... because she's always set some standard of motherhood and grandparenthood for me... and I truly, truly miss her.

Heck, I even reminded my Mom that Mamay was always beside a child when a grandchild is born... hoping my Mom will be ashamed a little and come home to be at my side. I know, i'm bad.

I'm just also that devoted to Mamay.

*~*

In a weird way, I can't decide who I miss more... Mamay or Py, in this day for lost loved ones.

UPSIDE
1) You get first dibs on elevators and comfort rooms. Lines will literally part before you.
2) Your husband is converted to a slave, nurse and personal assistant.
3) You get first dibs on food.
4) You get the pregnancy glow.
5) You have hormones to blame for every tear and every forgetfulness and clumsiness.
6) You bring forth a child.
7) Love grows within your marriage/family.

DOWNSIDE
1) It's expensive. From check-ups to supplements to ultrasounds to complications to the actual delivery... and when the baby comes, it just gets more expensive.
2) It's compromising.
3) You are left scarred... from the stretch marks to the episiotomy or CS scar.
4) You are deprived sleep.
5) It's painful in varying ways and intensities.
6) Once baby is born, you are more compromised and end up lacking more sleep.
7) You are overwhelemed with emotions... and become more weepy.




I think I better not continue lest this post turns into a rant. But the truth is, pregnancies are really scarring and life-changing. You are just simply never the same even if you end up miscarrying your baby.

A married woman can feel SINGLE again... if she's widowed or gets separated, annulled, divorced. But once a woman becomes pregnant, she becomes a parent. And after she's given birth, her heart will forever beat outside of her. And her perspective will forever have changed.

Anyway, I am still trying to settle into a new normal... everyday is a constant struggle to remain sane. The downsides to pregnancy are limitless to me and I have to literally point them out to myself again and again. But alas, I could never regret it for I am now tied to my child. I doubt I can ever see the world again as the wonderful place it is without him.

I am in love... scarred, but in love. I am changed. I have been raped and ravaged emotionally and physically. But I am in love.

*~*

Sorry if the post is SOC... I lack sleep.

These are my son's earliest ultrasounds... I think we ended up undergoing 14 of said procedure as my pregnancy was a difficult one and he had to be constantly monitored.

Anyway, like the rest of us, my son started out as no more than a gestational sac... then a fetal pole developed... and then heartbeat... and then the embryo that would become a fetus... that would develop skin and limbs and systems... that would be born as an infant... that would hopefully grow up.

My son's lucky... hubs and I, however imperfect and human, love him and vow to give him the best we can ever give. But no matter how much or how little we end up loving him, inspiring him, caring for him, teaching him... we are not given any guarantees as to whether he will grow up into someone we can be proud of.

For all our efforts, he could still choose to be an angry person. He could choose to be an unhappy person. He could grow up disappointed with the world and commit suicide. He could grow up and end up being a criminal. He could someday beat his wife, his kids, and who knows who else. He could be the next anti-Christ.

By the same principle, he could be the next President... or the next Pope... or the next Filipino Saint.

The point is... he could be anybody. He will be a product of his physiological limitations and natural skills and experiences and choices. But mostly, he will be a product of his choices.



*~*

Apart from nature making sure only the fittest are born, and situations where a pregnancy endangers the life of a mother... I could never support abortion. It is essentially, to me, a deprivation of the right to be anybody.

Sure, it's sad that there aren't more people choosing to be happy and productive. Sure, more criminals and corrupt officials and unhappy mothers and unfaithful fathers and ungrateful kids paint a picture of a sad society... and we do have a population problem. It is just really out of control.

But the minute fertilization occurs... life begins. Sure, a gestational sac is only just a sac, but it will be created especially for the unique individual it's preparing for. And all of us started like that...

so really... how dare any of us say that we have the right to not give any life a chance to find him/herself someday in a position to choose what he/she will make of his/her life?

*~*

I am all for contraceptives however... I do not put premium on possibilities when there isn't a fact of conception yet.

Pondering all my years in this lifetime, I cannot help but feel like a distant observer at some points in my life. How could I have been so unhappy and angry and lost and just plain ridiculous? :)

But then again, all those angst-ridden years worked itself out in the end to bring me to ME... to this ME that's happy and fulfilled and hopeful.

Some plans I made for myself paid off... like not getting pregnant or marrying way before I was prepared for the challenges, and deserving of its rewards.

And because i've chosen well where it counts, forces are conspiring and making everything fall into place.

The first ten years of my life... I was an unhappy child with a happy enough childhood. I was blessed with mental stimulation, escape from things that disappointed me, material things that would sustain me, and a sort of love that, though I found wanting, will still always be more than what others have enjoyed. And being the eldest child will forever cloak me with certain favors and expectations that would facilitate my becoming self-possessed.

The second ten years of my life... was tumultuous and basically involved, wasted, focused, spent on finding answers to questions I have not phrased well. Thus, the wandering. But still, I had the time of my life. I had friends, I had admirers. Despite the acne and the thinness, I never felt ugly... even in times of rejection. I also got a glimpse of what true love can be.

The last ten years so far... have been spent on ridding myself of the angst and the drama that drove me to stupid, self-defeating scenarios... and formulating my questions well so I can get the answers I was seeking. I guess I got so good in formulating some of these questions that they answered themselves :) The last two years have particularly seen me go through the most painful, the most beautiful, the most life-defining, the most humbling times of my life... and the privilege of being loved and having loved has seen me through.

So now I can't help but be very optimistic of the next years ahead. I am aware that my troubles will be more dire, more serious, more gut-wrenching... but I also know that the rewards can more than compensate for all the times that i'd cry.

It's true... once you decide for sure where you want to go, the journey becomes a little more clearer and easier. The road even sometimes seems to be paved in gold, with street signs directing you to shortcuts and invaluable sidetrips to further enrich the trip.

Life has been good to me, despite the scars and the souvenirs, my spirit has triumphed... and I have the luxury of still being able to dance my way thru life.

So I thank the greater force that has kept me safe and healthy and that has blessed me so... and I thank all the friends and foes that have enriched my life with lessons I wouldn't have learned otherwise...

*~*

The only thing I can really wish for now is a safe, non-CS delivery that will deliver a healthy baby to me and my husband's arms.

(but ok, I wouldn't say no to material things... wehehehe, but even a brand-new DSLR cannot make my heart skip a beat these days)