1 Year

I remember how everything started. How my hips hurt so bad I can barely walk for a week. I still remember how the pain radiated from my back to my belly like everything is about to burst. How I squirmed at the pregnant girl in the Labor Room who was screaming in pain when I was only 3 cm and mine hurt still tolerably every 10 minutes or so. How I still had a Skype session with my mother-in-law in my every 5 minutes interval of labor. How my husband sneaked some snore while I endured an intense pain and held on to the sheets of my bed. How water came out of me and how we argued that it wasn’t my water bag yet. It was. But it just leaked. How I still had to persuade my mother to come with us to the hospital. How after a few minutes I found myself gripping hard on the handles of the car on our way to the hospital. How I ate my words when I entered the Labor Room because I was almost screaming in pain like the girl I saw earlier.  How in like 30 minutes, I was slid into a different bed and was brought to the Delivery Room—with a guy in white, yes a guy, spreading my legs and putting each of my foot on the metal edge of the bed. How the Anaethesiologist shared his highschool stories with the people inside the room while the OB Gyne stared at me. How I butted in and told the former that we shared the same Alma Mater. How I screamed at my OB because my legs hurt. And how I suddenly felt an intense pain on my hips probably due to my baby’s moving out. How I asked her “Doc, baket ang sakeeet?!? Ang sakeeet!!!” And how she laughed sarcastically after that. Like I didn’t think I was giving birth. How I got bored of pushing and asked why he has not gone out. How my OB looked like when she heard that my baby is tired and his heart is beginning to beat faster and faster like "Oh my Goooolll don't do this!" How I even negotiated not to cut me open. And how just a little later, we were negotiating for my bikini cut. How I became very dizzy and felt nothing from neck down. How I talked so much because I cannot breathe with my oxygen mask. How the doctor tapped my cheek because I was indeed talking so much. How I tried to remove the mask using my mouth to start breathing normally. How suddenly, a baby cried and it was my baby inhaling the same air as mine. How he latched the very first time. There was light after that.-- Yes, they took a picture of us. And it is one of my prized possessions from that day on.-- How my husband and my mommy showed their teeth as I came out. How I slept for a while at the Recovery Room. How I tried to make a conversation with the nurse there, but then, she always refused to have one. Turned out, I shouldn’t have tried to. How gas filled my entire system because I happily talked to all my visitors about my encounter. How my baby looked the first time I saw him without the sedation. How my husband and I figured how to breastfeed him without hurting my stitch. How it was so hard to latch him. How the first day was spent without a complete set of sleep. How everything from that day changed immediately.

A year has passed and I can still remember how my baby came out from me to see the world. Things have been entirely different after that fateful day. I am tired, sleepless, and skinny, but uberly happy. I cannot actually fathom how someone can be romantically frustrated, physically drained and socially-absent but yet remain to in bliss.  It takes a baby to be that, in my case, surely.

Thank you for giving me my peace. Thank you for giving my purpose in life. Thank you for having me find my happiness. It’s finally here. And it is our anniversary.



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