Waiting for 2 to turn 4 and Most Everything in Between

There was an HBO movie (I forgot the title) about a little boy who's supposed to be born but was afraid to step "through the tunnel" and all the other angels who were in line for their own births into Earth were trying to convince him to go on but they just can't. So what happened is that for as long as this one little angel is afraid to be born, nobody else could have their nativity because he was holding up the birthing line in heaven...

And I actually searched the net for new births since Wednesday because I've been 2 centimeters cervically dilated for about a week now and still, nothing is happening. :(

My mom said I was like this when she gave birth to me. That she was admitted at St. Anthony Hospital in Roxas City but I was quiet as a turtle the whole time that she even got to travel by plane to Manila the next day where I finally came out. That's why when I was little they used to call me "Manilenya" even when I had no idea what it meant.

I've never been so good at waiting. Maybe that's my problem. A terribly low EQ score. A bright red "F" on the marshmallow test (the marshmallow having disappeared even before it touched the surface of the platter). Tsk.Tsk.

Tope finds it funny. He plays Bob Marley over my belly as though that's where my ears are and I've never seen him so calm and in control. It's quite a new thing. I'm the one on the edge of freaking out and he's the one with the steady hands. I never thought I'd see the day.

And the nightmares...

I was doing an episiotomy to a patient and when I looked up, the patient was me (horror music in the background)...

Or, I was sitting in the middle of an ER conference with Dr. Vista and all of a sudden a baby cries from between my legs...

The trouble with knowing is that you have a lot to feed your imagination with.

...

It's Flip's birthday and I want chili crabs. ;(

...


And daddy just called to tell me he's coming. :) I don't know how they're going to live with each other, my dad and my love. Sometimes I worry, that's all.

The night of the Big Reveal, he asked me: "Your dad doesn't carry his gun around, does he?" And he was looking constipated the whole night.

"Love, tiempo hapon pa yata ang baril na yon kasi minana pa niya yon sa tatay niya. If he's gonna shoot you, you won't die of the gunshot wound but of a tetanus infection... which means, technically, you're immune to that already..." :)

And then: "Alam mo kung saan ka hindi immune? Sa mga titig niya. Mas mamamatay ka sa titig niya more than anything else. Nurses faint in the operating room because of those stares and there's no vaccine to protect you from them." :)

He laughed a bit, but he still looked constipated the whole night.

But these are men. I'm not sure if we'll ever understand them. Tope can stare down an angry bull with those deep eyes if he wants to and daddy can say whole paragraphs of swear words with just a look. I'd imagine a fury of stare downs every time they meet but I woke up one cold 5 am morning and they were heartily discussing broken bones and exchanging operating room experiences over Allan's barako coffee.

These are men. I'm not sure if we'll ever understand them. Even if they're "our" men.

Count the heartbeats, daddy said. And the i-pod shuffle earphones have been replaced by the stethoscope plugs ever since.

The heartbeats...like pearls slipping from a string....Music on their own right... Soft vibrations of raindrops on a field of grass... Barely audible but undeniably there... I can't believe the reality of this whole thing still feels like waking up from a dream.

One minute he slips his hands around me and I feel like a goddess in springtime. The next minute I realize I've gained more than 10 pounds I might never lose again and I feel like an elephant... and not just any elephant... that poor old elephant in Manila Zoo who's bound to die of a major depression anytime soon. I wonder if Prozac comes in elephant tranquilizers...

And Valium. The Valium Story is a thing of the past. But the stories of the past keep creeping up sometimes like unwanted ghosts trying to cling to someone else's life when they've discovered they've lost theirs. And the only thing we could actually do is accept them unconditionally as irrevocable parts of the people we love. They won't be who they are without those ghosts and we all have our own ghosts after all... But FYI. Before he went there, there's never been a need for Valium and ever since he's left that place, there's never been a need for Valium ever again, and that in itself says a lot.

Training is hard and I don't know how we'll manage to be hands on parents at the same time, but there's comfort in loving assurances.

"You're not alone in this...I'm here..."

At sa haba ng buhok ko, I think I'll never get a haircut now. :)

And the grandparents are in a tug of war. One of them says Iloilo. Another says Roxas. And now we're afraid to go home. :) My parents in particular have to live in a big old house built for 10 children and now it's empty except for two elderly house helps who spend their days arguing like children. Talk about the Empty Nest Syndrome.

Why did you have to grow up so fast, Ben? Even I could remember changing your diapers and now you're simply too big. And now I have to relearn how to change diapers again.

Last Saturday Johnny graduated from his Masters degree in Philosophy and we celebrated over a bucket of fried chicken. And it's remarkable how literally "BIG" we all are. We finished the bucket for eight in a matter of minutes. One hell of a lot shorter a time span it took for KFC to deliver it. He was complaining about his graduation gown because they couldn't find a size that fit him and I was complaining about feeling like a badly wrapped "Suman". Misery loves company indeed. Long ago, this is how we looked like:



Now, on regular days, he looks like a bouncer in a pub and I look like Baloo the Bear. And don't even get me started on my other siblings. Hahaha!


The thing is, I've done everything from writing Psychiatric Interview presentations to finishing 2 Pugad Baboy comic books, to devouring John Steinbeck's "East of Eden". I'm starting that homework in Psychotherapy for Dr. Dela Fuente in a while, and maybe start digesting Paulo Coehlo's "Brida" after that, if situations permit (Tope actually went to National Bookstore and gave me my pick of paper backs when he knew I'd been ordered complete bed rest, so I'm assuming he's read Dr.Eunice's Facebook link about the girl who reads..."a pad of poetry over a bouquet from Dangwa" hahaha!) But truthfully, what I'm REALLY doing is nothing at all but waiting for my little angel to finally brave the tunnel. And now that I think really hard on it, I find I don't blame her. She's going to be born to one wacky family and that must take a hell of a lot of thought!

I must have gone through the very same crisis 28 years ago when mom was 2 cms cervically dilated for three or four days...

But baby it was worth it. No matter the circumstances, I promise you, you will be loved...

There will always be an infinite list of things to be fearful about. But sometimes, you just need the one reason to be brave.

While I was wasting my time worrying my worries away, my good friend Yinyin sent me a message that stuck: "Think of nothing else but your baby. Treasure these moments because you will never be this close to her again..."

And I think that's just perfectly beautiful, don't you? :)