And so I Lost Her...

I could not explain the pain I felt looking at the ultrasound monitor and seeing no response from the baby. There was no sign of the comforting blinking that indicates the baby’s heartbeat. Yes, "baby" since I certainly refuse to call it “just” a fetus. At 6 weeks I saw how there was a heartbeat already. It was a living entity. I’m a vegetarian. I don’t eat meat in reverence of the life of a “being.” How much more that of a baby? MY Baby…

I lay there while the doctor – the sonologist, not my OB – tried all means just to detect any vital signs on that unmoving figure in the screen. I knew she was probably just doing it for my benefit. She tried all angles and yet the result is the same. There is no vital sign.

I feel the pain even now, recalling how it all was… It’s a pain so raw, so wrenching… I felt it to the very depth of my being. I asked lamely if it means the baby is no longer there. All the while I was fighting the tears that were threatening to fall.

The sonologist replied it could be anything and that yes, it could mean that. She said something like I could try again and that I’m still young. I felt like shouting back at her. I know she probably was just at a loss as to what to say to me and that was the best that she could come up with. But I found no consolation in her words.

I wanted to lash back that having another baby would not be the same as having the same baby. I wanted to ask her if she could guarantee at all that if we try for another baby, it would be the same one we’ve lost now. Would it be the same soul but just in another body?

I’m crying now while writing this. For a week I imagined in my head how I would write this entry. Of course I wanted to write about this experience. What better therapy could there be for me other than to write? But never have I imagined I’ll find myself in that little room again at the sonologist’s clinic. I never imagined I’d feel the agony again…

Bolo and Baby Bullets was there. Bolo stood holding Baby while peering at the monitor too. But unlike me, Bolo was more accepting of the situation. When we went out of the clinic to sit outside and wait for the result, I was definitely crying in earnest already. I could no longer hold the tears. Bolo patted me and said there was nothing we could do. He reminded me that our OB already told us to prepare ourselves and that if the baby is not for us then it wouldn’t be there despite all the bed rest I may take.

I will admit, though I’m shamed by it, that there was an instance wherein I entertained the thought of the “convenience” my being unpregnant would give me. I recall the misgivings I have when I found out I missed my period. Still, by God, that was my baby. MY baby and not some pet I could do away with and give away if it proved to be of inconvenience. As I said in my past entry, there was never a doubt as to how I felt for that child. I loved her.

When I had the spotting and had my OB confirmed the delicacy of my condition, I laid in bed and communicated with my unborn. I told her to hang on for dear life. I was honest with her though and told her how she came at a time when I did not plan for it at all. I told her I wish I had her at a time that there was nothing she’d feel but appreciation from me. Not that she’ll have to sense my misgivings at having found myself pregnant with her. I know this would not sound good at all to a baby hanging on for dear life but I was strong in my resolve too. There would be no lies between me and my offsprings, if I could help it at all. I know she’d sense it anyway if I’d lie. I know I would not appreciate being lied to by my parents. What kind of relationship would that be?

Ah.. right now I still cringe everytime I see cute girlie dresses because even if the sex of the baby could not yet be discerned at that stage, I was very certain she was a girl. I meditated once – as a friend taught me how to do it – communicated with the baby in my womb and I readily sensed a female energy. That’s when I knew. It pains me now, recalling that incident because it had been a good communication, that one.

Oh I’m better now, somewhat. Slowly, I am beginning to accept what happened. There’s nothing left to do but just that. No amount of remorse would change everything that had happened.

I just hope I’ll finally get better – physically that is. I feel my body has been through a lot. I’ve been through a lot and I’m still recovering from everything… So help me God..

I'm Not

My clock reads -- 12:50 AM. I find it ironic that I have reached that time slaving over some work concerns when my doctor specifically ordered for a 2-week bed rest.

I have just finished an important report but I still have some work concerns I needed to do tomorrow. A lot had happened this week. Yesterday was the toughest, having found out I was experiencing some spotting.

It was a traumatic experience for me -- to have found blood when I knew perfectly well I am "almost" 2-mos. pregnant. It did not help that I didn't have the support I needed at that time. Bolo was away for some business. For some reason, he is not anywhere where his fone is. Candy's YM status message read, "Sorry, I ran off for a bit." Jeni was unreachable too. Both cases are forgivable though. Even I am guilty of not minding my phone constantly. Particularly when I'm very much busy with some work stuff or "motherly" functions. In either case, checking my fone for messages takes the least priority.

Ah, now I remember and note with some irony how I have happened to pour out my sentiments to an "online" friend. I found -- still find that incident -- totally ironic. There I was wanting so badly some reassurance of some sort. I was desperate for a hug, for a touch, for a physical contact but I got a "virtual" response instead. Not that it wasn't appreciated. I really thanked that friend for being there for me notwithstanding how weird it must have been for her to find out I was having miscarriage-scare and her not being able to do anything about it given the "remoteness" of the situation.

I am still in pain now. I have a nagging pain in my lower back and abdomen. It's not a good indication at all I know on top of the spotting I'm still experiencing. I know I'm risking my baby's well-being for refusing to heed the bedrest advice and tackling work instead. But a part of me recognizes the need to accomplish certain things that I should. Things that are needed. And having to do that, a lot of nagging questions are running right through my head. I'm asking why it had to be this way.

I love this child tremendously. That is something that I am very much certain of. For all my confusion, my unpreparedness, my misgivings, there was never a doubt as to how I feel towards this Baby.

So yes, I'm lamenting the fact that I have to accomplish certain things when I should be fighting like crazy for this Baby to stay alive. I'm lamenting that things have to be this way. So to answer the previous entry's question, I guess I'm not huh? So I'd better do something about that then...

Getting My Bearings

I was fixing my blog when I came across the entry below... It was saved as a draft (dated May 17)... I remember being confused at that point in my life... confused about a lot of things ang about where I really want to be...

Now, with all that took place and all the blows I suffered from, I still am very much trying to get my bearings... And yet surprisingly, just when I was on my lowest, right down on my knees, things just started to sort themselves out.

Everyday these days I feel restoration. It's as if when I was at my darkest hour, someone threw me a rope just to pull me out of the place... Now, I could feel things starting to look up.

For several days now I would find myself suddenly jolted from whatever it is that I'm doing. It's when the reality of Niño's death would again hit me and I would start as if suddenly poked... I'd find myself shaking my head, as if I still could't believe that Niño is no longer with us and that he is not just at Empress tending our home there...

This morning, Bolo and I woke up early. We were supposed to spend some time alone for ourselves last night. But we decided to let Baby sleep first so we could go without a problem. What happened was that I woke up at 3 AM finding myself in my jeans still, Baby sleeping soundly beside me, and Bolo equally as "clueless." I woke him up with a sheepish grin and pointed at our jeans. We hastily refreshed ourselves and fully intended to change into pajamas when we found ourselves fully awake. So he changed into shorts and shirt, and prepared to go out to go to Mercury to buy Baby's milk.

When he was gone, I busied myself cleaning Baby's bottles and soaking in hot, soapy water the white blouse Baby "drew" pictures on with his chocolate ice cream the day before... When Bolo got back, we fed Baby milk and then prepared for an early morning walk to Bankerohan. He was intent about going on an ukay2x hunt.

Once there, we found several basketball shorts that reminded us so much of Niño. Not only once have he turned to me and said this or that would have fitted Niño well. I felt the urge to buy the shorts anyway. And for a while I thought to myself if it is alright to continue buying stuff for my brother as if he is still around. But of course, soon enough, sanity prevailed. Not to mention, practicality too. I guess for a while I'll be in such a state as I still grope with the reality of and my acceptance of my brother's death. I've been like this for a while during Papa's time. And I'm willing to sit it out for a while... I'm just really glad that generally, things are beginning to look up.

These days I took to tuning in to my collection of Gospel songs and even at youtube when I'm in the office. I guess that helped a lot... It is helping a lot... True indeed, God is always one's anchor in times of grief and sickness... He is ever present even in the most mundane details of my life, these days He makes His presence felt even more so and it's where I draw my strength from... Thank you, Father God.


***

Draft

I cringe everytime I hear that auto-sounding voice announcing, "Yahoo! Mail..." No, not exactly at that time but when I drag my eyes from what I'm doing to the lower-right-hand corner of the monitor and see this message -- "***** has just updated her friendster blog!"

It's not at all because I begrudge my friends' having the time to blog. In fact I enjoy reading their blogs during my spare time. It keeps me updated on how they are doing. Some blog even inspires me. The cringing part is because I feel I am being reminded to write, to see to it that I set aside time for myself and for introspection. I don't have to elaborate again why.

My previous entry was on the proverbial question of "Where am I?" Needless to say, I feel the need to constantly ask myself that question thus, the need for reflection. Asking that question is not even enough. This had to be coupled with -- "Am I where I want to be?"

Lost. There are times when I feel that way. There are times when I would pull myself from my present preoccupations and force myself to get my bearings, I would fail miserably. Meaning, I could not at all get my bearings. And I always hated that feeling.

For all my...err... being "dense" most of the time, I do want to be in control of my life. For sure, I wouldn't want to waste my time and my energies on things that don't matter at all or those of no importance. Life is short enough as it is...

Am I?

My Powerful Question for the week -- "Am I where I want to be?" I was arrested by the question and my reaction is telling me it had succeeded in hitting a chord within me somewhere.

A lot had happened over the period of one year. And "a lot" translates to having my hands full with all the responsibilities entrusted in my care. With a hectic schedule bugging my very existence, I never really had the time to sit down with myself and examine my feelings about the things that's happening with me.

Now I'm asking myself -- How am I? Am I where I want to be? How do I feel about being where I am right now? I know the answer is lurking here somewhere... And very soon I would have to set aside time for myself -- time to be alone and make an honest assessment of how things are. I owe that much to myself. After all, I don't want to wake up one day, be grey and old (order intended since i have grey hairs now though I'm not OLD yet hehehe), and realize I've gotten myself into a state I wouldn't want to be in.

Canibad, Island Garden City of Samal

Some of my officemates and I took advantage of the May 1 Labor Day holiday to go to Canibad in Samal Island. It was fun and the place was truly beautiful. Below are some of the pictures taken there. More can be found in my travel blog @ tataroadtrips!