My 14 Month Journey to Nanayhood
Carrying a child, giving birth, and becoming a mother are all in my dream list. I have this scribbled in my head since the birth of my third brother and experienced the joy of taking care of another human being. I was 13 then. Needless to say, I don’t know what I am asking for.
A year after getting married, The Husband and I decided that we are somehow ready to bring and nurture another life. It was a careful decision that we happily took on. And alas! After less than a month of trying, we were given two lines in all three pregnancy tests. I went straight to Makati to check with my OB, and with an ultrasound, it was confirmed – I was five weeks pregnant. The cold Amihan wind of January blew in my face as I travel to Laguna, excited to see The Husband and tell him the great news. And boy, you can never really describe the reaction in a man’s face the moment you tell him he’s going to be a father. To twins.
We were estatic, but decided to keep our tiny biggest secret amongst ourselves and promising that once we pass the critical first trimester, we will announce to the world that R2 D2 will be coming at the start of the Ber season (I call them Bean and Sprout, but the force is strong).
We kept close with our OB and followed every step of her advice. Slowing down is the biggest challenge on my part, but I willingly followed. Our second ultrasound is euphoric. To hear R2’s heartbeat, ahhh! It was simply amazing. But we need to do it again to double check on D2. So after a week, we went back. More excited than ever. It was February 17 2016 --a day that marked our hearts. The face on the OB Sonologist’s as she tried to look for a heartbeat. The display on the monitor as it moved back and forth from one angle to another. The erring silence in the room. And that report declaring that we lost our babies. My OB pronounced it –we lost R2 D2 due to chromosomal disorder.
The truth broke us. The territory is unmapped. We were unrehearsed to this kind of situation. So we did our best to divert. I continued working while waiting for some natural progression of the miscarriage. The Husband and I even handled a two-day adaptation planning workshop in Quezon Province. And after a week, we went back to Makati to have my procedure done. It was painful to prepare a hospital bag seven months in advance. It was agonizing to feel your uterus contract and pray for bleeding just to get it over. T’was gut-wrenching to be in the labor room together with mothers in their full term, happily riding the surges of contractions. I was wheeled to and out of the delivery room without any baby.
We thought our timing was perfect. We’re well adjusted to our new roles as husband and wife. Our tiny home is becoming too big for just the two of us. I work mostly at home. The Husband became accustomed to his new role in his department. We are ready. But apparently, our schedules are not aligned with His’. It may not be the time for us to start a family with twins. It may not be the time for us to have kids. Period.
So we moved forward with our lives. Trying to be better in our respective fields. I started assisting Vietnam, and The Husband just accepted a few more consultancy work. And when we stopped thinking about getting pregnant, we received the good news. It was June 29. Two lines crossed the home pregnancy test. I am with a child.
It took me a while to enjoy my second pregnancy. Naturally, there’s this fear of losing. I’m very edgy at the start of all my sonograms, and will be relieved only after hearing the heartbeat. And then a bigger fear started to circle my heart – fear of dividing love. I started to have some apprehensions on my own capacity to love. You see, if there’s one thing I mastered in my decade old relationship with my Husband, its being his best partner. But since it has always been only the two of us, I am not sure how to deal with loving two individual equally. Thankfully, with consistent prayers, and open communication with my Husband, I managed to pull myself from self-doubt and believed that love does not divide. It multiplies.
My first trimester made sure to be felt. I turned into a sloth with a huge appetite. My routine is similar to Moss’ daily schedule: Sleep. Wake up because freakin’ hungry. EAT. Rest for a while. Sleep. Luckily, the laziness did not interfere (much) with my work. It was the best season to lax out. It was still a wait-and-see game with the new administration. AHH! This kid, his timing is just spotless.
The second semester is pure bliss. I had my energy back, and was running and ticking boxes one at a time. I participated in two missions, ran high level discussions, and smoothly transitioned to a new role in one of our technical assistance. I am very much productive. The crazy side of it? I had very ‘entertaining’ dreams –from The Husband becoming a supermodel (hello! Already is!) to climate-related meetings with the president (during the period when Duterte said he’ll not ‘sign’ the Paris Agreement) to censored dreams that even Mocha will agree not to share it here.
The third semester is probably the longest but most exciting of all. The Husband and I started buying baby gears, clothes and furnitures. We also took time to attend birthing class to help understand my body, appreciate labor pains and how to manage it, and have the right disposition in giving birth. And since I grew to whale-size, I found it hard to prepare meals (chos!) so, its also the semester of soo many date nights and quality time with The Husband. We developed a daily morning routine of walking at Freedom Park, breakfast at Mcdo (I know! So unhealthy! HAHHA), and then getting some dessert of Malunggay pandesal and carabao’s chocomilk.
And one Monday afternoon, my son was born. His name means a great devotion to the Sea and fruitfulness, inspired by two great books, Genesis and Silmarillion.
We named him Earendil Joseph.
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