Browsing Tag

birthing

Finally, the big ONE

June 2, 2009

It’s officially my baby boy’s first birthday today, and I can’t help feeling like one proud mama. Just like that, it’s been a year. 365 days of toil and tears, but also 365 days of love and laughter. In short, it’s been the best year of my life.

This time last year, I was lying on the operating table (fully awake, mind you) with my stomach sliced open and blood all over the table. I could actually see the entire goings-on thanks to the nurse who was holding a reflective metal dish just above my abdomen. My OBGYN thought I was blissfully unaware of what was happening, and I decided to play along. I was too intrigued to be able to witness the whole birthing process.

Then there was this moment where I finally heard the first cry of my little trooper as he came out screaming and kicking. But it was not until they wrapped him up and put him on my chest that it started to sink in. It was so surreal to see this tiny little guy with a headful of armani-styled hair and pouty lips looking back at me and involuntarily, I felt myself tearing.

Somehow, I knew my life was never going to be the same again.

So on this special day, here’s what I’d really like to say.

Tru,

Next to marrying your father, finding out that I was pregnant with you was the happiest moment of my life. I couldn’t have asked for a better, smarter, cuter, happier or fun-ner first kid. It’s not easy being a mom, but you make my job seem like a piece of cake.

You go to sleep on your own at 7.30 every night, eat your vegetables and clean the house for me. The best part of my day is waking up and seeing you every morning, knowing that you’ll reserve your biggest grin for mama. I love snuggling in bed with you before and after your naps as you tumble around and burrow your head like you’re digging your way to China. I relish the times that you climb onto my lap just to be held (even though it usually lasts for 5 seconds max) and look at me with those soulful eyes.

I could go on about all the little stuff you do that makes me go all gooey inside (just don’t exploit it when you grow up). But I just want to say thanks for loving us the way you do.

You’re growing up really fast. Those days when you were flailing around with your skinny chicken legs seem like a lifetime ago, and every day, I watch you grow a little bigger and a lot smarter. You’re going to become a fine young man before I know it. So before I forget, here’s a list of your mother’s words of wisdom (get ready for some serious fromage).

1. Dare to dream and live those dreams

Life’s too awesome to be afraid of failing. Attempt the spectacular and do the stuff that people don’t even dare to dream of. You’re made of tougher stuff, so even if you fall flat on your ass and the world is sniggering, just get up, flick the dust off your clothes and grin like it’s the funniest thing in the world. Then turn around and try it again. You’ll at least have 2 crazy fans cheering you on.

2. Love people with a passion

Last time I checked, wimpy, half-hearted displays of affection aren’t worth much. If you don’t love people until it hurts you in the gut, then it doesn’t really count and you’re better off not loving them at all.

3. Develop a backbone

I can’t tell you how important it is to grow a spine and be a person of integrity. Do the difficult thing and make tough choices. If you take the easy way out all the time, all you end up with at the end of your life is a truckload of wasted potential and missed opportunities.

4. Smile and the whole world smiles with you

You’ve already got a head start in this department. With your shy, boyish grin, it’s enough to make any heart melt when you turn on the charm. Don’t believe in that pessimist, I’m-just-a-realist nonsense. Optimists take over the world and make things happen. Smell the roses and bathe underneath the waterfalls. And especially when it sucks to do it, take a deep breath and smile.

5. Friendships are the most important thing

It’s no fun at all going through life alone and brooding loners usually are that way not by choice, but by the lack of it. Learn to be the kind of friend that stands in the face of adversity and is not afraid to tell the truth when it hurts.

You are going to rock this world.

Happy Birthday, my boy.

by Daphne

pregnancy

Pain, pain, go away

May 20, 2009

With 8 weeks to go, all I can think about now is giving birth. I’m not looking forward to the birthing process per se, seeing that I’m terrified of needles and I’m averse to any sort of pain whatsoever. I have the pain threshold of a 3-year-old child, and the slightest bit of pain sends me hyperventilating.

I’ve got very vivid memories of Tru’s delivery after the anesthesia wore off and I was screaming the hospital down for morphine. Totally unglam on retrospect, but pain turns me into a raging maniac.

Suffice to say, I’m dreading the labor and delivery, but the final weeks of pregnancy is like being in Siberia. It sucks. There’s nothing I can do except twiddle my thumbs and wait for water to trickle down my legs (not pee, ok). I can’t remember what it feels like to run and skip without a care in the world. Just the other day, I thought I was going to pass out after 5 minutes of brisk walking, and I had to sit down for the next 30 minutes to recuperate.

There’s also a new ailment which didn’t show up during my first pregnancy. Recently, my crotch feels like there’s an elephant sitting on it from the inside, and any slight movement sends a wave of numbing pain (akin to a bruise) into the joints. Evidently, it’s put quite a damper on the romance and passion this time around.

On top of it all, I’ve been having unexplainable throbbing pains on various parts of my body. The husband seems to think its hilarious, but there’s really nothing funny about it when I’m on the receiving end of some ancient voodoo curses. I remember this scene in one of the Indiana Jones’ flicks where some tribal witches were performing a curse on a voodoo doll by stabbing it, and the pain would somehow be felt on the real guy. It freaked me out then and still haunts me till this day. I have also since stopped watching Indiana Jones. It’s evil.

seriously, it hurts. Stop it!

A couple of days ago, the pain started in my hands, like someone was stabbing my wrist every 10 minutes. After searching the net for possible explanations, the best advice was to leave it alone and lo and behold, it just went away the next day all by itself.

Now it’s moved to my left ear and it’s getting unbearable. It’s so bad that I can’t even swallow or think without wincing in pain. Unless some insect crawled into my ear and died there, I’m pretty sure it’s caused by some venomous Mother, Inc haters.

Whoever you are, I’ll hunt you down and may the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits.

Ok, seriously, please make it stop. I’ll do whatever you say.

by Daphne

kids inc

Picture Perfect

April 24, 2009

If there’s one thing I should have done more as a mother, it’s to take more pictures of Tru. Most mothers have a gazillion pictures of their tots and I have a grand total of about a hundred since he was born (Most of them not even taken by me). I bet strangers have more pictures of my kid than I do. That’s the thing though. We’re totally not trigger-happy people.

During Tru’s delivery, we didn’t even bring a camera to capture the pivotal moment. I was lying on the operating table with my stomach flapping open, witnessing the following conversation take place.

Gynae: Ok, where’s your camera? You can standby to take pictures of the baby.

Husband: Er, we didn’t bring one.

Gynae (incredulous): Camera phone? How are you going to take pictures?

Husband: Actually, our phones have no cameras.

*Awkward silence*

From time to time, I browse through some of Tru’s old photos (yes, all 100 of them) just to look back at how tiny and helpless he was back then. Here’s a few.

Every time I look at how small he was back then, and it makes me go all mushy inside. That’s it, my middle-of-the-year-resolution is to TAKE MORE PICTURES OF MY KIDS.

by Daphne