I am guilt-tripping today because I cannot properly prepare for my daughter’s 2nd birthday. When my son turned 2, I remember almost acing a DIY birthday party. I crafted invitations, photo-booth frame and I baked him cupcakes, lollipop cakes, brownies and even his birthday cake! All these and more. In my daughter’s case, however, I was not able to make her anything and her birthday is only a few days away. There is no way I can come up with something personal, hand-made and at the same time beautiful. My creative nerves are all shut down right now. As you’ve noticed, I have not been in regular blogging lately.
If I were not so busy with my day job, I feel like crying in a corner due to my lack of attention and time for her upcoming birthday. Yes, I’m at the verge of depression and misery. Thankfully, I’m so busy with work that I have no time to face my own emotions right now. The aftermath are rather scary, will deal with that later, I guess. But, I claim that Jesus will deliver me from all these. Back to my daughter’s birthday, I am this close to buying her an expensive gift just to make up for it, actually, to make up for my guilt. Now, I understand why some parents seem to replace their presence with presents. I guess it was never the intention but parents should still know that there is no substitute for time and affection.
To be honest, there are days I feel like quitting my job just because it eats up an awful lot of my time and energy, wala pang overtime ýun ha. 9 hours in the office, 2 hours to prepare (to and from) and 3 to 4 hours travel time. That’s a total of 14 to 15 hours out of 24 hours in a day. That’s 58% to 63% of my day. If I’d be brutally honest, I feel like puking when I compute the going rate for my hours of work. But, I need to stop myself from self-pity and ungratefulness. I should be sensitive with others, especially the minimum wage earners. My work drains me as well, making me so freaking exhausted by the time I’m home, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. There are days when I feel so piga and sagad already.
Since I have no more juice to beat to make something for Claret’s birthday, let me just dedicate half of this post to her. Let me tell you about the day she was born.
It was a Thursday evening when at 9PM, I felt some weak and irregular contractions in my tummy. I decided to eat a burger before I went to bed. I tried to sleep but I felt so uncomfortable with any sleeping position. As I was counting/timing my contractions, I fell asleep. At 1AM, the contractions became strong that it woke me. I woke up my husband and we decided to get ready. When we’re nearing the door, I noticed I did not have contractions anymore, so I decided to sit down and wait a little more. We waited until 2AM before we proceeded to the hospital as I was quite sure I’d be giving birth already.
We were in Manila and I was set to give birth at Las Piñas. It was 2AM, hence, no traffic (thank goodness). We arrived at the ER around 3AM. By then, I was already 4cm and so I was admitted. There was only one nurse/staff who monitored me and gave updates to my OB. I agreed to have an epidural/painless (because it worked on my first born) but the lone nurse/staff slept on duty and left me in pain and agony (was the only one in the delivery ward at that time). When she woke up at around 5:30AM, I was already crying for my life. I was not prepared to that kind of labor pains. I was delirious. I had an epidural before and I expected the same at that time. But, the resident doctors and anesthesiologist are nowhere to be found in the hospital. The nurse/staff said they were still having a breakfast at a nearby McDo. My OB was not yet there too. I was hell scared. Husbands were not allowed inside the delivery room. I saw the panic face of the lone nurse/staff. It made me worry more.
I prayed. I cursed. Then, repeat. The pain was unbearable. By the time the RD and the anesthesiologist arrived, I was in too much pain already to be given an epidural unless I want to be paralyzed. I was pleading them to tell me what to do as I could no longer bore the pain. Should I push or not? They wanted me to hold it until my OB arrives but I could no longer wait. The RD was already panicking, the anesthesiologist was clearly pissed off as he was not called at the right time. He missed the window for epidural. It turned out that the nurse was either wrong in her measure and calculations or she missed something when she slept, or both. I begged them once more as I could no longer hold it together. Deep down, I wanted to curse them all, of their lack of ethics, professionalism, competence and empathy but a bigger part of me thought that these people hold power over my life and my daughter’s life in that room, so I just humbled myself and beg and beg.
Then came a very strong and irresistible urge to push. Claret wanted to go out of my womb. Every inch of my bone and body pushed her out. Then, I lost consciousness. I did not see her after delivery. I was not able to kiss her or touch her. Thankfully, there was no chance of mix-ups since I was the only one who gave birth at that time and she was the only girl in the nursery. I wanted to complain everything that had happened and maybe I should have but I became so busy with my newborn plus a 2-year old son. It just saddens me that that was the hospital experience I got from what I paid for which is not cheap at all.
After two hours, I woke up in the recovery room and I immediately asked the nurse (another nurse) how my baby was. And she assured me that my baby was fine. That baby was named Claret which means bright. Surely, she was the light at the end of that dark birthing story.
|Happy Birthday my sweet darling Claret!|