Next Sunday, May 17, many countries of the world will be celebrating Mother's Day. Congratulations and cheers to all the loving and hardworking Mothers, Mamas, Mommies, Nanays, Inays, to all the Fathers who played the roles of mothers to their children, to all the Titos & Titas, Lolo & Lolas, who stepped up and became extended parents, and to everyone who took the responsibilities of becoming mothers to their own families. Thank you for all that you do! Happy Mother's Day! As I write this, our own little Amar is turning 6 months next week, which means I've been a mother for 14 months already (including 8 months of pregnancy). Where did time go? With that, it's almost time to resume my work routine. I could not remember anymore what office life is. Since I became pregnant last April 2019, I have fully embraced my new life with Amar. During my pregnancy, I kept a diary of what transpired during that day. I finally managed to pen it today. I know many women have more incredible stories (than mine) to tell about their pregnancy. I wrote this for family and friends who were asking about our journey. Thank you for reading. On the last week of March 2019, it seemed that all the galaxies in the universe aligned. Joey and I were able to visit the shrines of three of our most favourite Saints: St. Gerard Majella, St. Teresa de Avila, and St. Jude Thaddeus. We came to know St. Gerard in Galway, many years ago, in one of the Redemptorists’ annual novena dedicated to the Mother of Perpetual Help. In every novena, a priest blesses pregnant women with the relic of St. Gerard. He is the patron Saint of mothers. Whenever there was an opportunity, we joined the blessing as a couple, in the hope that one day, we would become pregnant. On Sunday, March 24th, before our holiday to Spain, we visited the shrine of St. Gerard in Esker, Galway. After attending the Sunday service, we requested Fr. Seamus to bless us with the relic. It was an emotional moment; I shed tears. It was probably my innermost yearning of having a child and fulfilling my simple dream of becoming a parent, a mother. Could it be this hard? Fr. Seamus lightened the mood and jokingly said: “My God, I hope this works!” My affinity with St. Teresa is more to the fact that she is the patron Saint of my hometown, Talisay City, Cebu. Whenever I go home, I try to attend a Sunday service there. She is also the patron Saint of Spain. Since Avila is just a train ride from Madrid, Joey and I visited her shrine on March 26th. We made a wish and vowed to visit her again. (I was holding her wooden statue wrapped in plastic all throughout my C-section. She was there in our first family selfie.) Our love for St. Jude started in 2008, when we were planning for our wedding in the Philippines. With both of us working overseas (Joey in UAE, and myself in Ireland), it was challenging to find a church that would wed us, with our wedding party, Ninongs & Ninangs, bridesmaids & groomsmen, having different religious denominations and beliefs: atheist, Buddhist, Baptist, Adventist, etc. Catholic churches in the Philippines require everyone in the ceremony to be baptised Catholics. True to his promises, the patron Saint of hopeless cases, St. Jude Thaddeus Church in a military camp in Cebu City accepted and allowed us to wed on October 25th, 2008. Some months later after that, I signed up with The National Shrine of St. Jude (https://shrineofstjude.org/), based in Chicago, USA. Even until now, when I feel very helpless and depressed, I just go to the website and ask them to pray for me. Since I got married in 2008, I never really saw a shrine of St. Jude. I only knew him in pictures until March 28th. While we were walking in the streets of Madrid, we decided to go into the Church of San Gines and heard mass in Spanish. After the mass, Joey saw a long queue at the back of the church. He said: “It’s the shrine of St. Jude.” I never told Joey what I felt at that moment. It was like meeting an old friend after a very long time. Tears started to well up in my eyes. I touched his foot, said a prayer, and made a wish. After all that, I knew the odds of having our wish granted were all in our favour. I just knew they would intercede for us. At the airport on our way back to Ireland, I told the flight attendant not to stress me too much about my carry-on luggage. I told her “Soy embarazada”, which means “I’m pregnant.” Fast-forward, after two weeks, I tested positive in a pregnancy blood test. Two weeks later and we had a scan showing the baby’s heartbeat! We were sky-high! It felt surreal. Could it be really happening? My first ten weeks of pregnancy was very easy. No vomiting, no food-cravings. I was literally hands-off from house chores. Joey drove me to and from work, made trips to the grocery, cooked, did the laundry, ironed, and all. In the simplest sense, I was well-pampered. Our roller-coaster ride started on our 11th week of pregnancy. I had an episode of heavy bleeding. Joey was in America so my close friend from work, Monica, took me to the hospital. While waiting for the doctor, the nurse kept on telling me that my blood results were normal; my haemoglobin was pretty good. And I frantically kept on telling him: “I’m OK, I’m asking about my baby. Is my baby OK?” And there was no answer. After a couple of hours, the doctor checked on me. It was a weekend, and for some reasons that I could not comprehend, ultrasounds/scans could not be performed during the weekend. The doctor told me that maybe I was just one of those women that bleed during pregnancy. Or maybe, it was a start of miscarriage. Either way, there was nothing they could do. If I was indeed miscarrying, she said I had to wait for it to be completed and if it was too painful, I could take paracetamol! Imagine our agony during the weekend, waiting for Monday so I could get a scan. I kept telling God: “Binigay mo na eh, wag mo na bawiin pa.” Monday came and I had a scan. The doctor said the baby was fine but there was still a risk for me to miscarry. And there was no way to stop it. I was on bedrest for two weeks. Nearing the end of two weeks, just as I was about to go back to work, I had another heavy bleed. We went to the hospital, had a scan, and it was there they told me that I had a sub chorionic hematoma (SCH). SCH is a bleeding in the uterus that if not contained, will take up the space which is supposed to be for the growing baby. The bleeding had to dry up and not to expand. To do so, full bed rest was needed. I was off work for the next eight weeks (two months). Those eight weeks were dreadful. I had progesterone injected daily. A short walk to the clinic caused me to bleed. I needed to wear a pad. I had to lie flat all the time and had to limit my movements. Those were the days when Google became my friend. I read almost every article with keywords “sch, bleeding pregnancy”. Like what was the pregnancy outcome, what diet or food supplements were required, how to manage SCH and how to stop bleeding. I drank a glass of pomegranate juice each day to clot the blood. My blood pressure was also constantly elevated, so I had medicine to control it. Our pregnancy was kept under the shroud of silence. Even my own Mom did not know. Only Tita Siony, few family members, close friends from work (Muriel, Monica, Jacintha) knew. The less people who knew, the less people we had to update, the less pressure for us. I was checked and scanned on a weekly basis. Each week gave us hope. Our baby was growing and the SCH area was getting smaller and smaller. Hence, more space for the baby. I was having vivid dreams about a baby boy. In one of the scans, the doctor confirmed that we were having a boy. Right there and then, we knew that one of his names would be Gerard. It was also during those eight weeks that my pregnancy symptoms heightened. I had heartburn, metallic taste in the tongue, dizziness. I never had food cravings but there was a long list of food that I didn’t want to eat! I did not like clear broth soups, green-coloured veggies, fruits (even bananas), and Chinese takeaway food. They all tasted appalling. One time, I was crying when Joey forced me to eat string beans. Well, blame it on the hormones! I could not stand the smell of basmati rice, so we switched to jasmine rice. Interestingly, I found burgers and chicken nuggets appealing. One time, Joey had to leave the office to get me a burger for dinner. It was unusual for me as I’m not a fast-food lover. And oh, the smell of Joey’s perfume and laundry soap drove me mad. Baby Amar and I survived the eight weeks on tomato-based dishes and avocado milk shake. Yes, avocado is green, but I was able to take it as long as it was a smoothie with milk. It became our family habit to drink avocado milk shake every time Joey came home from work at 2:30 am. We then noticed that baby Amar became active during that time. He was probably anticipating his daily dose of avocado. While at home, I developed fondness for the actor Ian Veneracion. I saw a clip of him singing in YouTube. So, I began watching his telenovela “Pangako Sa’yo”. In just one week, I completed the full 190 episodes! I also spent my time watching Lea Salonga’s concerts and Gerard Butler’s movies. And yes, I was still off from house chores! By the 20th week of pregnancy, I was already stable. My appetite was back to normal. I could almost eat anything! The SCH has fully dried up and I did not bleed anymore. We had the big 20-week scan. They call it anomaly scan here. It’s a major scan that examines the baby's anatomy in a detailed manner. Measurements and all the baby's organs are checked to see if they are developing normally. Baby Amar’s scan was all good. Another milestone to give thanks to God for never leaving our side in this journey. It was time to share the baby news. We told our families, our close friends, Ate Marlyn and Ate Nessa. I went back to work with a baby bump, so it was already obvious for my colleagues that I was pregnant. On my 24th week, I was tested negative for gestational diabetes. What a relief! Another possible injection avoided! Just as we were starting to enjoy the journey, starting the 26th week, the doctor assessed that I had a risk of developing pre-eclampsia and I might deliver Amar any moment. So, I had a steroid injection for two days at the hospital to accelerate the development of his lungs. We survived the 26th week, but I needed to be at the hospital every Tuesday for blood pressure and uric acid monitoring. It was a regular routine until I was on my 34th week. The doctor advised me to take my maternity leave early as I might be at the hospital more often from then on. On my 35th week, I had to be admitted to the hospital. We stayed there until the 36th week, when Amar Gerard Alphonso was born via C-section on November 15th. Happy birthday, our miracle baby! Our pregnancy was a long and arduous journey which turned out well in the very end. It was never easy, but Amar is all worth it. If I had to relive my life, I would go through the same journey all over again for him.
As first-time parents, we never knew what we were missing until Amar came to our lives. This little man has brought so much happiness and became the topic of every conversation within our family and relations. True enough, he may have changed our routine from being previously a “free as a bee” couple to a somewhat chaotic and discording family schedule. And yet again, he is all worth it. The smile on his face is our happy pill. At times, we find ourselves just looking at him as he sleeps and saying a quick ‘Thank You’ for choosing us to be his family. Indeed, God is good all the time.
3 Comments
|