Wednesday, December 30, 2009
A few years ago I had a very strange dream. I was dreaming about Peru. Some mornings back home, I would wake up to the smell of smoke, this usually meant that either my grandma or some neighbor had a cooking fire on. I didn't really mind the smell but it woke me up nonetheless. So I was dreaming about this, yet my head told me that it wasn't dream, my nose was actually smelling smoke. I also started hearing pounding on my door and window. Little by little I started to wake up and realized that the smell was very real and the sounds too.
Everything happened very fast, one moment I heard my father in law banging loudly at our door screaming for us to come out, then I felt Ronald's hand around mine dragging me half naked outside the house. I then found myself wrapped in my bed covers wearing only pj's and socks half freezing in the chilly near-winter season.
Firefighters came quickly. Neighbors were crying, I was still partly thinking it was a dream. Where was the fire though? I remember seeing smoke, but no fire, was it in my upstairs neighbor's apartment? Was that the reason they were crying? And why were the firemen climbing tall ladders to get to our roof?
I don't know how long I was there, but it all seemed to happen rather quickly. Patrick was scared, he was very small then. Ronald kept telling me it was alright. I think he even went back inside to check after he had pulled me out. Now that I think of it, that was really stupid of him.
After we were allowed to go back inside, we all started to tell our stories to put the puzzle pieces together and make sense of the events.
Turns out there was no fire. It also turns out, that the whole thing happened in our apartment. Apparently, our oven was turned on and that's what caused the smoke out. How? Well my mother uses the oven as storage and she puts her pans in there. What she also keeps in there is her big wooden cutting board. When the oven was left on it started heating up the big wooden block and that's what caused the smoke. It had been going on for a few hours. Why didn't we notice? Well Ronald and his dad work in a bakery and they come home after midnight if not later. They go to sleep rather late and wake up after 10 a.m. or so. Our schedules are messed up like that. My mother in law had gone to work and the only person home was Patrick. He was watching tv in the living room without a clue of what was happening in the kitchen.
Our room is all the way in the back of the apartment, past the kitchen in fact. We have a emergency ladder which my neighbors used to knock on our window since nobody would answer the door. When Ronald woke up and opened the door to see why his dad was yelling, he saw that the whole kitchen was filled with smoke. His dad was already outside with Patrick. He yanked me out of the bed, ducked me as low as he could and pulled (or shoved) me through the kitchen and out the door.
Ah, now I remember, he went back for the covers because I was freezing cold. He wasn't stupid, he was being thoughtful (still stupid but I forgive him.)
When his mom got home we asked her why she had left the oven on. Was she going to cook something and forgot? Was she trying to kill her family and start over? (I still tease my boyfriend about this last part)
She says she didn't do it, and that it must have done on its own. We will never know what really happened, but I sure will never forget that day.
Everything happened very fast, one moment I heard my father in law banging loudly at our door screaming for us to come out, then I felt Ronald's hand around mine dragging me half naked outside the house. I then found myself wrapped in my bed covers wearing only pj's and socks half freezing in the chilly near-winter season.
Firefighters came quickly. Neighbors were crying, I was still partly thinking it was a dream. Where was the fire though? I remember seeing smoke, but no fire, was it in my upstairs neighbor's apartment? Was that the reason they were crying? And why were the firemen climbing tall ladders to get to our roof?
I don't know how long I was there, but it all seemed to happen rather quickly. Patrick was scared, he was very small then. Ronald kept telling me it was alright. I think he even went back inside to check after he had pulled me out. Now that I think of it, that was really stupid of him.
After we were allowed to go back inside, we all started to tell our stories to put the puzzle pieces together and make sense of the events.
Turns out there was no fire. It also turns out, that the whole thing happened in our apartment. Apparently, our oven was turned on and that's what caused the smoke out. How? Well my mother uses the oven as storage and she puts her pans in there. What she also keeps in there is her big wooden cutting board. When the oven was left on it started heating up the big wooden block and that's what caused the smoke. It had been going on for a few hours. Why didn't we notice? Well Ronald and his dad work in a bakery and they come home after midnight if not later. They go to sleep rather late and wake up after 10 a.m. or so. Our schedules are messed up like that. My mother in law had gone to work and the only person home was Patrick. He was watching tv in the living room without a clue of what was happening in the kitchen.
Our room is all the way in the back of the apartment, past the kitchen in fact. We have a emergency ladder which my neighbors used to knock on our window since nobody would answer the door. When Ronald woke up and opened the door to see why his dad was yelling, he saw that the whole kitchen was filled with smoke. His dad was already outside with Patrick. He yanked me out of the bed, ducked me as low as he could and pulled (or shoved) me through the kitchen and out the door.
Ah, now I remember, he went back for the covers because I was freezing cold. He wasn't stupid, he was being thoughtful (still stupid but I forgive him.)
When his mom got home we asked her why she had left the oven on. Was she going to cook something and forgot? Was she trying to kill her family and start over? (I still tease my boyfriend about this last part)
She says she didn't do it, and that it must have done on its own. We will never know what really happened, but I sure will never forget that day.
Friday, December 11, 2009
It's that time again, the Christmas season. How wonderful! Right?
Well technically yes, but I feel like crap.
Just last month I was fantasizing about what my answer would be if Santa Claus were to ask me what I wanted for Christmas. My answer was "Nothing, I have everything I want." And it was true, I have a family, a real one, a real family I can call my own. It's hard to understand, I have a mother and a father, but they're not a family, and they both have families of their own, and I have half brothers and sisters, but none of them seem to belong to me. This time though, I have son, and wonderful guy who is both a great partner and father. This is my family, my very own family and there is nothing greater in the world than that.
I'm also healthy, I don't suffer from any illnesses, I'm thankful for that.
I have a roof over my head and I always have something to eat. I have everything I could ever ask for and more.
Then why do I feel so down?
It's around this time of year that despite all I have, I remember all I don't have.
I miss my mother, we aren't very close but God knows I love her dearly and I miss my little sisters as well. They in Peru and I haven't seen them for a couple of years.
I miss my grandparents, they're both in heaven, but I just wish that for one night, just one night I could have them back, just for a little while, to give them a hug and a kiss, just for a little while. A girl can dream can't she?
I know this may sound corny, but I also wish I had a lot of money, not for me though, I wish I had a lot of money to give away. I wish I was able to buy a truckload of coats and presents and go around all day long and give them out to the needy. Yeah, yeah, I know, but it's just something I wish I could do.
It just breaks my heart to think of all those families who can't afford to celebrate Christmas, they can't afford to have a Christmas dinner or buy their kids presents.
Some of them don't even have a place to sleep in. How awful to be them this time around, it makes me sad that I can't change that.
There are many things among all these that have me feeling down.
Today in particular it was the fact that I am sick, I have a cold. It's my own fault though, the weather got ugly and I wasn't prepared.
Another thing that went wrong was that I have to go to work tomorrow and I have no freaking milk to leave for my baby.
Whoever said nursing mothers "can" go to work and still give their babies breast milk is full of it!
It's doable I guess, but it's very complicated. I didn't realize I had run out of frozen milk and I'm pumping like crazy to leave him something to eat for tomorrow.
He'll have to deal with formula as dreadful as that sounds, but it's better than starving.
I guess it's my own fault too since I should have checked the supply a couple of days ago, anyway, what's done is done.
The drop that spilled over the glass was my boyfriend. I know, I know, I've said wonderful things about him, but today he was a selfish meany.
He is telling me how tired he is and how sick he feels. I'm like "DUDE! I'm tired too, I have things to do and I'm tired too!"
I know he doesn't mean to hurt me, but the damage was done. I cried for a while trying to pump some milk and I only got drops, then I decided to give up and whine about it here in my blog.
So sorry guys for putting you through my misery, but who else do I talk to?
I could talk to myself but that doesn't really help.
Oh well, I'm rambled on for too long. I need to calm myself down and embrace the positive again.
Merry Christmas all.
Well technically yes, but I feel like crap.
Just last month I was fantasizing about what my answer would be if Santa Claus were to ask me what I wanted for Christmas. My answer was "Nothing, I have everything I want." And it was true, I have a family, a real one, a real family I can call my own. It's hard to understand, I have a mother and a father, but they're not a family, and they both have families of their own, and I have half brothers and sisters, but none of them seem to belong to me. This time though, I have son, and wonderful guy who is both a great partner and father. This is my family, my very own family and there is nothing greater in the world than that.
I'm also healthy, I don't suffer from any illnesses, I'm thankful for that.
I have a roof over my head and I always have something to eat. I have everything I could ever ask for and more.
Then why do I feel so down?
It's around this time of year that despite all I have, I remember all I don't have.
I miss my mother, we aren't very close but God knows I love her dearly and I miss my little sisters as well. They in Peru and I haven't seen them for a couple of years.
I miss my grandparents, they're both in heaven, but I just wish that for one night, just one night I could have them back, just for a little while, to give them a hug and a kiss, just for a little while. A girl can dream can't she?
I know this may sound corny, but I also wish I had a lot of money, not for me though, I wish I had a lot of money to give away. I wish I was able to buy a truckload of coats and presents and go around all day long and give them out to the needy. Yeah, yeah, I know, but it's just something I wish I could do.
It just breaks my heart to think of all those families who can't afford to celebrate Christmas, they can't afford to have a Christmas dinner or buy their kids presents.
Some of them don't even have a place to sleep in. How awful to be them this time around, it makes me sad that I can't change that.
There are many things among all these that have me feeling down.
Today in particular it was the fact that I am sick, I have a cold. It's my own fault though, the weather got ugly and I wasn't prepared.
Another thing that went wrong was that I have to go to work tomorrow and I have no freaking milk to leave for my baby.
Whoever said nursing mothers "can" go to work and still give their babies breast milk is full of it!
It's doable I guess, but it's very complicated. I didn't realize I had run out of frozen milk and I'm pumping like crazy to leave him something to eat for tomorrow.
He'll have to deal with formula as dreadful as that sounds, but it's better than starving.
I guess it's my own fault too since I should have checked the supply a couple of days ago, anyway, what's done is done.
The drop that spilled over the glass was my boyfriend. I know, I know, I've said wonderful things about him, but today he was a selfish meany.
He is telling me how tired he is and how sick he feels. I'm like "DUDE! I'm tired too, I have things to do and I'm tired too!"
I know he doesn't mean to hurt me, but the damage was done. I cried for a while trying to pump some milk and I only got drops, then I decided to give up and whine about it here in my blog.
So sorry guys for putting you through my misery, but who else do I talk to?
I could talk to myself but that doesn't really help.
Oh well, I'm rambled on for too long. I need to calm myself down and embrace the positive again.
Merry Christmas all.
Monday, November 16, 2009
There is a theory in greek mythology that talks about the "primeval man."
This creature had four arms, four legs, and a single head with two faces.
It is said that Zeus was jealous of this creature so he cut them it half and separated the two halves by putting them in opposite sides of the world. For centuries the new creatures have looked and looked for their other halves in hopes that they once again will become whole.
That is what I define as "looking for your soul mate."
I think I found mine hence why I'm writing this. I found a man a few years ago who may very well be my other half. He is the total opposite of me, he is everything I am not, exactly what I've been looking for. He completes me. Yes, yes, I know it sounds corny, but heck, I cannot tell a lie.
Therefore, I will list the ways "my other half" makes me happy.
-He is always looking to please me, whether it's letting me win an argument or buying that special thing I've been wanting for months.
-He always tells me he loves me, even if it's the 100th time in a day.
-He promises me the world and he always keeps his promises.
-He makes sacrifices for me even if it costs him more than what he bargains for.
-He is a great father, need I said more?
-When he looks into my eyes, I can see right into his heart.
-We can talk about anything and everything. (This will come in handy when we're old.)
-When I'm around him I feel safe.
-He is my best friend. How lucky can a girl get!
I could go on and on, but you get the point. I know I promised him I would blog about him some day and no I didn't do this to make him feel happy. I did this because I am proud of him and I want the world to know it.
I love you Poochi!
This creature had four arms, four legs, and a single head with two faces.
It is said that Zeus was jealous of this creature so he cut them it half and separated the two halves by putting them in opposite sides of the world. For centuries the new creatures have looked and looked for their other halves in hopes that they once again will become whole.
That is what I define as "looking for your soul mate."
I think I found mine hence why I'm writing this. I found a man a few years ago who may very well be my other half. He is the total opposite of me, he is everything I am not, exactly what I've been looking for. He completes me. Yes, yes, I know it sounds corny, but heck, I cannot tell a lie.
Therefore, I will list the ways "my other half" makes me happy.
-He is always looking to please me, whether it's letting me win an argument or buying that special thing I've been wanting for months.
-He always tells me he loves me, even if it's the 100th time in a day.
-He promises me the world and he always keeps his promises.
-He makes sacrifices for me even if it costs him more than what he bargains for.
-He is a great father, need I said more?
-When he looks into my eyes, I can see right into his heart.
-We can talk about anything and everything. (This will come in handy when we're old.)
-When I'm around him I feel safe.
-He is my best friend. How lucky can a girl get!
I could go on and on, but you get the point. I know I promised him I would blog about him some day and no I didn't do this to make him feel happy. I did this because I am proud of him and I want the world to know it.
I love you Poochi!
Monday, November 9, 2009
Oh my, here I go with the ranting.
I was at the hospital the other day because Ronald had a minor back injury at work. We went about the regular routine of signing in, getting his vitals and then seeing the doctor. Afterward, we were waiting for him to be called up and get his flu shots done and do some blood-work. All was fine until the very end when we were about to leave. This lady stops me on my way out and she compliments my baby. She says "How cute, he is adorable!"
I don't mean to brag but I have to admit that I'm pretty used to comments like that. My baby is heck too adorable!
I smiled at her and thanked her, as I was about to attempt to leave again she asked me "How old is he?" "Three months" I replied. She then completely changed her happy expression and said "You need to take care of him you know?"
What?
"I do take care of him" I said.
"You shouldn't feed him too much"
Double what??
"I'm not!" I replied.
Now before you start telling me I overreacted, I just want to point out that it was not only what she said, but how she said it. In those short sentences she practically accused me of neglect and putting my baby in the path of obesity!
I know she wanted to say more, but I simply thanked her again and moved on. I know that if she had continued to pursue the conversation I would have snapped at her and would have probably given her a speech on how my baby is breastfed and he gets the right amount of food he needs.
Now, please understand that I have nothing against formula fed babies, I just consider myself lucky to have such wonderful partner who is working non-stop so that I don't have to and just dedicate myself to my baby. There is nothing stopping me and I have full support of friends, family and doctor.
That being said, I know enough to understand how breastfed babies are supposed to look like. Plump, chubby, and round. They're adorable. No, I'm not overfeeding him, he gets what he needs, and if he needs more he'll work for it and have some more.
Anyway, my rant is over now, I just wish this lady took her own advise and looked at herself in the mirror before judging my perfectly michellin baby, she wasn't exactly miss universe if you know what I mean.
I was at the hospital the other day because Ronald had a minor back injury at work. We went about the regular routine of signing in, getting his vitals and then seeing the doctor. Afterward, we were waiting for him to be called up and get his flu shots done and do some blood-work. All was fine until the very end when we were about to leave. This lady stops me on my way out and she compliments my baby. She says "How cute, he is adorable!"
I don't mean to brag but I have to admit that I'm pretty used to comments like that. My baby is heck too adorable!
I smiled at her and thanked her, as I was about to attempt to leave again she asked me "How old is he?" "Three months" I replied. She then completely changed her happy expression and said "You need to take care of him you know?"
What?
"I do take care of him" I said.
"You shouldn't feed him too much"
Double what??
"I'm not!" I replied.
Now before you start telling me I overreacted, I just want to point out that it was not only what she said, but how she said it. In those short sentences she practically accused me of neglect and putting my baby in the path of obesity!
I know she wanted to say more, but I simply thanked her again and moved on. I know that if she had continued to pursue the conversation I would have snapped at her and would have probably given her a speech on how my baby is breastfed and he gets the right amount of food he needs.
Now, please understand that I have nothing against formula fed babies, I just consider myself lucky to have such wonderful partner who is working non-stop so that I don't have to and just dedicate myself to my baby. There is nothing stopping me and I have full support of friends, family and doctor.
That being said, I know enough to understand how breastfed babies are supposed to look like. Plump, chubby, and round. They're adorable. No, I'm not overfeeding him, he gets what he needs, and if he needs more he'll work for it and have some more.
Anyway, my rant is over now, I just wish this lady took her own advise and looked at herself in the mirror before judging my perfectly michellin baby, she wasn't exactly miss universe if you know what I mean.
Monday, October 12, 2009
There is something most people don't know about me, it's very hard for me to get attached.
Let me rephrase that, I refuse to get attached for fear of being hurt.
Now we can all blame this on society or my daddy issues, but the truth is that, I'm not good with emotions.
Therefore, I'm very exclusive when it comes to my friends. Now this made sound like I'm full of myself, but I'm very picky, hence why my social live is almost non-existent and why this post today is particularly hard.
We met Stephanie a few months back. She is a nurse.
I've just had my first prenatal appointment and one of the staff at the clinic told me about this program targeted to first time mothers of low income status. The program involved a series of visits from a certified nurse who would come in and aide you when it came to pregnancy and the care of your newborn. I was skeptical and even though I told them I would try it out, I had made up my mind that I wouldn't do it.
I mean come on! Having a stranger come into my home to tell me what I was doing wrong or what I wasn't doing right didn't sound very appealing to me. Plus, I had seen this movie once about this visiting nurse who stole a lady's child after she drugged her, so I was scared lol.
They called me a few weeks after and explained the program to me, they said that they would send a nurse and that if I felt uncomfortable I could stop at any time. I thought about it and decided that one visit wouldn't hurt, plus it was free.
She called us and we set up an appointment. Ronald wasn't too pleased, he said it was a waste of time, I sort of agreed.
Stephanie came to our house, she was a very small pleasant lady. She explained what our visits would be like, she gave me some reading info and talked about my pregnancy. It was nice.
After she left, Ronald and I talked and we decided that this would be beneficial. She could be our in between doctor visits consultant, and we wouldn't feel so lost as first time parents if we had her around.
She came every week for a while, then every two weeks. Each time we would talk about the stages of pregnancy and the things I would be going through. She taught me so much, and for that I'm grateful, but it was more than that. She would also listen to me, about my life, about my goals, my dreams, my past, just my life. I felt important. Sure it was part of her job to make me feel important, but I truly believe in my heart that we were just important to her.
Time kept passing by and we kept getting closer to her. The once skeptical Ronald and Jeannette started to anxiously await her arrival like little kids waiting for their weekly trip to the candy store.
"Stephanie is coming today", I would say. "I know", Ronald would agree happily.
Luka was born and Stephanie was excited. When she got to see him for the first time it felt like she was a relative seeing her nephew or her god-son. It was beautiful.
Unfortunately good times sometimes come to an end and Stephanie will no longer be our home visiting nurse.
How? Why? Does it matter?
All I know is that I will no longer have those visits to look up to. I will no longer have that person to talk to about my silly accomplishments like when I decided to breastfeed my baby, or when I gave birth to him at 9lbs 6oz.
She celebrated every single one of those things and made me feel special.
Yes it's sad, it's like a part of our lives is coming to an end, but another is just beginning.
We gained a friend, a lifetime friend I hope.
This was decided long before she told us she would leave, we decided that once the program was over we would still keep her in our lives and in the life of our baby. We would invite her to birthday's outtings and anything else we could bring her along to.
So Stephanie, this post is dedicated to you, I know you're reading this, and I want you to know that you've got a special place in our hearts. I thank you deeply for teaching me and letting me teach you my own life lessons.
I dedicate this song to you.
It's called Jippy Jai. It talks about saying goodbye, but not for ever.
Lyrics in English
Why should we lose hope of seeing each other again,
Why should we lose hope of seeing each other again,
It's only a "see you later",
It's only a brief goodbye,
Goodbye, goodbye, I hope we meet again.
Singing hai, hai, hippi hippi hai
Singing hai, hai, hippi hippi hai
The light shines, the sun hides,
but the sun from the sky
will always shine
the warmth of our friendship.
It's only a "see you later",
It's only a brief goodbye,
Goodbye, goodbye, I hope we meet again.
Let me rephrase that, I refuse to get attached for fear of being hurt.
Now we can all blame this on society or my daddy issues, but the truth is that, I'm not good with emotions.
Therefore, I'm very exclusive when it comes to my friends. Now this made sound like I'm full of myself, but I'm very picky, hence why my social live is almost non-existent and why this post today is particularly hard.
We met Stephanie a few months back. She is a nurse.
I've just had my first prenatal appointment and one of the staff at the clinic told me about this program targeted to first time mothers of low income status. The program involved a series of visits from a certified nurse who would come in and aide you when it came to pregnancy and the care of your newborn. I was skeptical and even though I told them I would try it out, I had made up my mind that I wouldn't do it.
I mean come on! Having a stranger come into my home to tell me what I was doing wrong or what I wasn't doing right didn't sound very appealing to me. Plus, I had seen this movie once about this visiting nurse who stole a lady's child after she drugged her, so I was scared lol.
They called me a few weeks after and explained the program to me, they said that they would send a nurse and that if I felt uncomfortable I could stop at any time. I thought about it and decided that one visit wouldn't hurt, plus it was free.
She called us and we set up an appointment. Ronald wasn't too pleased, he said it was a waste of time, I sort of agreed.
Stephanie came to our house, she was a very small pleasant lady. She explained what our visits would be like, she gave me some reading info and talked about my pregnancy. It was nice.
After she left, Ronald and I talked and we decided that this would be beneficial. She could be our in between doctor visits consultant, and we wouldn't feel so lost as first time parents if we had her around.
She came every week for a while, then every two weeks. Each time we would talk about the stages of pregnancy and the things I would be going through. She taught me so much, and for that I'm grateful, but it was more than that. She would also listen to me, about my life, about my goals, my dreams, my past, just my life. I felt important. Sure it was part of her job to make me feel important, but I truly believe in my heart that we were just important to her.
Time kept passing by and we kept getting closer to her. The once skeptical Ronald and Jeannette started to anxiously await her arrival like little kids waiting for their weekly trip to the candy store.
"Stephanie is coming today", I would say. "I know", Ronald would agree happily.
Luka was born and Stephanie was excited. When she got to see him for the first time it felt like she was a relative seeing her nephew or her god-son. It was beautiful.
Unfortunately good times sometimes come to an end and Stephanie will no longer be our home visiting nurse.
How? Why? Does it matter?
All I know is that I will no longer have those visits to look up to. I will no longer have that person to talk to about my silly accomplishments like when I decided to breastfeed my baby, or when I gave birth to him at 9lbs 6oz.
She celebrated every single one of those things and made me feel special.
Yes it's sad, it's like a part of our lives is coming to an end, but another is just beginning.
We gained a friend, a lifetime friend I hope.
This was decided long before she told us she would leave, we decided that once the program was over we would still keep her in our lives and in the life of our baby. We would invite her to birthday's outtings and anything else we could bring her along to.
So Stephanie, this post is dedicated to you, I know you're reading this, and I want you to know that you've got a special place in our hearts. I thank you deeply for teaching me and letting me teach you my own life lessons.
I dedicate this song to you.
It's called Jippy Jai. It talks about saying goodbye, but not for ever.
Lyrics in English
Why should we lose hope of seeing each other again,
Why should we lose hope of seeing each other again,
It's only a "see you later",
It's only a brief goodbye,
Goodbye, goodbye, I hope we meet again.
Singing hai, hai, hippi hippi hai
Singing hai, hai, hippi hippi hai
The light shines, the sun hides,
but the sun from the sky
will always shine
the warmth of our friendship.
It's only a "see you later",
It's only a brief goodbye,
Goodbye, goodbye, I hope we meet again.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
"Pregnancy is a beautiful thing" people tell you.
"It is a miracle to bring a child into this world" they insist.
"You will wonder how you ever lived before you were a mother" they preach.
Sure! Pregnancy is all those things, but what they forget to tell you that all that comes with a price.
Our bodies endure so many changes during pregnancy, it is raging with hormones that unbalance the formerly balanced way of our mechanism. How does this translate into our everyday lives? We get queasy and naturally we puke our hearts out!
My “queasiness” lasted so long and it was so severe that I felt ready to give up. I wanted not be pregnant. People around me told me “How are you going to endure the rest of pregnancy and labor if you can’t even put up with this.” I don’t know? All that mattered to me at that time was stopping the unpleasant feelings.
I cried so much during that time, in part it was due to the mood swings and in part it was due to fear. Fear of not living up to the kind of parent I wanted to be. Was I going to make mistakes? Even more, was I going to make the same mistakes that were made with me? So all sorts of thoughts went through my mind causing me great fear.
Was I afraid of giving birth? Surprisingly, no. It wouldn’t help me to be scared.
As I was nearing the end of pregnancy, I got more anxious. I wanted to meet my baby and take care of him. I wanted to see his face, his hands, I wanted to stroke his head. I just wanted to hold my little one and show him how beautiful life could be.
My brother once told me “It’s going to hurt you know!” I got mad at him, how in the world can he know how much it hurts? Yes of course he was witnessed how much it hurts when his kids were born, but he hasn’t experienced it. I don’t know if he was trying to scare me or prepare me. It didn’t matter though, I still wasn’t scared. Our bodies are designed for this, they are capable of withstanding the pain and live to tell the tale. I wasn’t scared, but not being scared is not something that comes easy. I understand that we as human beings are scared of the unknown, we are scared of finding ourselves in situations where we lose control. I told myself that I wasn’t going to find myself in that position, I wanted to be prepared so I fed my mind with all sorts of information. I had help too, my family helped, my doctor helped, my home care nurse helped, I even had help from the internet. I read books and stories from other expecting mothers like myself. I found that we all shared some of the same fears and doubts.
My due date was getting close, it was getting harder to walk around so I stayed home most of the time. People kept telling me I should walk to make things happen faster. Why would I want to do that? I didn't feel like rushing my baby, he would come whenever he felt like it.
I went to the hospital three times before being admitted, and all three times I thought it was time because of the pain I was feeling. All three times I was sent home because I wasn't ready yet.
Finally, one night after being in early labor for five days my water broke. It was weird, I had a strong contraction and I thought I had peed myself. Ha!
Turns out it was my water, so I went to the hospital and sure enough I was in active labor.
They finally admitted me and I was so excited. The only problem was that my contractions weren't regular at all and I wasn't progressing as I should have.
I was given Pitocin to speed things up and it worked, my contractions were closer and stronger. There was a problem though, my baby wasn't very appreciative of it and decided it was too much for him resulting in a scary drop of his heart rate.
What a scary feeling, nurses rushed to my side faster than lightning, I was given oxygen and put on my side. Eventually they stopped the Pitocin for a little while and all was back to normal.
Now let me tell you, the pain those contractions cause: OMG!
They are no joke. Yes it was painful, so much so that I cried for help. I was trying to be brave and I told myself I would endure as much as I could but it was time for the heavenly epidural.
Yes, I said heavenly. I swear I would have proposed to the anesthesiologist right then and there if I wasn't already in a relationship.
All in all it went great. I was in labor for about 18 hours but those 18 hours were worth it.
On july 21st, 2009 I gave birth to a healthy 9lb 6oz baby. So yes ladies and gentlemen, being pregnant is not easy but it does not come unrewarded. The joy we women get to experience, the wonder of being able to produce life, that is something nobody else but us get the privilege to experience.
"It is a miracle to bring a child into this world" they insist.
"You will wonder how you ever lived before you were a mother" they preach.
Sure! Pregnancy is all those things, but what they forget to tell you that all that comes with a price.
Our bodies endure so many changes during pregnancy, it is raging with hormones that unbalance the formerly balanced way of our mechanism. How does this translate into our everyday lives? We get queasy and naturally we puke our hearts out!
My “queasiness” lasted so long and it was so severe that I felt ready to give up. I wanted not be pregnant. People around me told me “How are you going to endure the rest of pregnancy and labor if you can’t even put up with this.” I don’t know? All that mattered to me at that time was stopping the unpleasant feelings.
I cried so much during that time, in part it was due to the mood swings and in part it was due to fear. Fear of not living up to the kind of parent I wanted to be. Was I going to make mistakes? Even more, was I going to make the same mistakes that were made with me? So all sorts of thoughts went through my mind causing me great fear.
Was I afraid of giving birth? Surprisingly, no. It wouldn’t help me to be scared.
As I was nearing the end of pregnancy, I got more anxious. I wanted to meet my baby and take care of him. I wanted to see his face, his hands, I wanted to stroke his head. I just wanted to hold my little one and show him how beautiful life could be.
My brother once told me “It’s going to hurt you know!” I got mad at him, how in the world can he know how much it hurts? Yes of course he was witnessed how much it hurts when his kids were born, but he hasn’t experienced it. I don’t know if he was trying to scare me or prepare me. It didn’t matter though, I still wasn’t scared. Our bodies are designed for this, they are capable of withstanding the pain and live to tell the tale. I wasn’t scared, but not being scared is not something that comes easy. I understand that we as human beings are scared of the unknown, we are scared of finding ourselves in situations where we lose control. I told myself that I wasn’t going to find myself in that position, I wanted to be prepared so I fed my mind with all sorts of information. I had help too, my family helped, my doctor helped, my home care nurse helped, I even had help from the internet. I read books and stories from other expecting mothers like myself. I found that we all shared some of the same fears and doubts.
My due date was getting close, it was getting harder to walk around so I stayed home most of the time. People kept telling me I should walk to make things happen faster. Why would I want to do that? I didn't feel like rushing my baby, he would come whenever he felt like it.
I went to the hospital three times before being admitted, and all three times I thought it was time because of the pain I was feeling. All three times I was sent home because I wasn't ready yet.
Finally, one night after being in early labor for five days my water broke. It was weird, I had a strong contraction and I thought I had peed myself. Ha!
Turns out it was my water, so I went to the hospital and sure enough I was in active labor.
They finally admitted me and I was so excited. The only problem was that my contractions weren't regular at all and I wasn't progressing as I should have.
I was given Pitocin to speed things up and it worked, my contractions were closer and stronger. There was a problem though, my baby wasn't very appreciative of it and decided it was too much for him resulting in a scary drop of his heart rate.
What a scary feeling, nurses rushed to my side faster than lightning, I was given oxygen and put on my side. Eventually they stopped the Pitocin for a little while and all was back to normal.
Now let me tell you, the pain those contractions cause: OMG!
They are no joke. Yes it was painful, so much so that I cried for help. I was trying to be brave and I told myself I would endure as much as I could but it was time for the heavenly epidural.
Yes, I said heavenly. I swear I would have proposed to the anesthesiologist right then and there if I wasn't already in a relationship.
All in all it went great. I was in labor for about 18 hours but those 18 hours were worth it.
On july 21st, 2009 I gave birth to a healthy 9lb 6oz baby. So yes ladies and gentlemen, being pregnant is not easy but it does not come unrewarded. The joy we women get to experience, the wonder of being able to produce life, that is something nobody else but us get the privilege to experience.
It was positive. The test was positive.
How could this be? I wasn’t trying to get pregnant, well to be honest, I wasn’t trying to prevent it either but how was it possible? I don’t want to be a mother yet. I don’t know what to do.
I had all the symptoms, I was nauseous, I got dizzy, I had mood swings, but I thought it was because I was stress from going to school part-time, working part-time and taking another seasonal job for the holidays.
I opened the bathroom door and when I got out my boyfriend was waiting for me.
“So?” he asked. “What did it say?”
“Positive…” I said.
Don’t get us wrong, having a baby is the most wonderful thing in the world, it is a blessing, but it wasn’t our first time. You see, I was pregnant before. One year prior I did get pregnant and we were happy. We were no where ready to have a baby but we were happy. As soon as we found out, we told everyone. My mom didn’t react very well, not sure why though. My boyfriend’s parents were nonchalant about it.
We didn’t care though, it was as if nothing bothered us, we were going to be parents.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. Our baby was never born, I had a miscarriage.
The pain I endured was so big, it was the biggest loss of my entire life. I’ve never felt such emptiness like the one I felt when I lost my baby. So we vowed to not have kids for a while. I honestly hoped to never get pregnant again for fear of losing it again.
So you must understand, this time around it was different, I was frightened. I didn’t want to feel like that again, I didn’t want to hurt again, I didn’t want to see the suffering in my boyfriend’s eyes.
We hugged, he whispered “I love you, everything is going to be fine.” I believed him.
We decided not to go to the doctor yet. I figured that if I were to lose this baby too, then there was nothing I could do to stop it and I did not want to deal with doctors if it did. Yes I know that was a bit stupid of me but choosing when to see the doctor was something I could control and at that point I needed to feel in control.
Three months we kept it a secret, three long months we bit our tongues every time we wanted to share our news. It was scary though, I would check myself everyday with fear of finding signs that I was going to lose the baby. It got to the point where I would cry just thinking about it. I decided to relax though, I took each day one at a time and at the end of that day I would thank God baby and I were ok.
Finally! We made an appointment with the doctor. We went in and met this sweet lady. She was funny, caring, and nice. What a joy right? No! I didn’t want a friend, I wanted a doctor!
Anyway, she told us everything was fine, my hormone levels were fine and I had no illnesses. That’s all I needed to hear.
Needless to say, the pregnancy went fine or else I wouldn’t be here writing this happy story.
I have a beautiful baby boy who is the joy of my life. I look back to the way I felt when I found out I was pregnant and how scared I was. I understand now that things happen for a reason, maybe I was meant to lose my first baby no matter how painful that was just so that I could have this beautiful baby this time around. I can never know exactly how things work, I just let them be and thank God and life for blessing me with what I have.
As human beings that is all we can do.
How could this be? I wasn’t trying to get pregnant, well to be honest, I wasn’t trying to prevent it either but how was it possible? I don’t want to be a mother yet. I don’t know what to do.
I had all the symptoms, I was nauseous, I got dizzy, I had mood swings, but I thought it was because I was stress from going to school part-time, working part-time and taking another seasonal job for the holidays.
I opened the bathroom door and when I got out my boyfriend was waiting for me.
“So?” he asked. “What did it say?”
“Positive…” I said.
Don’t get us wrong, having a baby is the most wonderful thing in the world, it is a blessing, but it wasn’t our first time. You see, I was pregnant before. One year prior I did get pregnant and we were happy. We were no where ready to have a baby but we were happy. As soon as we found out, we told everyone. My mom didn’t react very well, not sure why though. My boyfriend’s parents were nonchalant about it.
We didn’t care though, it was as if nothing bothered us, we were going to be parents.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. Our baby was never born, I had a miscarriage.
The pain I endured was so big, it was the biggest loss of my entire life. I’ve never felt such emptiness like the one I felt when I lost my baby. So we vowed to not have kids for a while. I honestly hoped to never get pregnant again for fear of losing it again.
So you must understand, this time around it was different, I was frightened. I didn’t want to feel like that again, I didn’t want to hurt again, I didn’t want to see the suffering in my boyfriend’s eyes.
We hugged, he whispered “I love you, everything is going to be fine.” I believed him.
We decided not to go to the doctor yet. I figured that if I were to lose this baby too, then there was nothing I could do to stop it and I did not want to deal with doctors if it did. Yes I know that was a bit stupid of me but choosing when to see the doctor was something I could control and at that point I needed to feel in control.
Three months we kept it a secret, three long months we bit our tongues every time we wanted to share our news. It was scary though, I would check myself everyday with fear of finding signs that I was going to lose the baby. It got to the point where I would cry just thinking about it. I decided to relax though, I took each day one at a time and at the end of that day I would thank God baby and I were ok.
Finally! We made an appointment with the doctor. We went in and met this sweet lady. She was funny, caring, and nice. What a joy right? No! I didn’t want a friend, I wanted a doctor!
Anyway, she told us everything was fine, my hormone levels were fine and I had no illnesses. That’s all I needed to hear.
Needless to say, the pregnancy went fine or else I wouldn’t be here writing this happy story.
I have a beautiful baby boy who is the joy of my life. I look back to the way I felt when I found out I was pregnant and how scared I was. I understand now that things happen for a reason, maybe I was meant to lose my first baby no matter how painful that was just so that I could have this beautiful baby this time around. I can never know exactly how things work, I just let them be and thank God and life for blessing me with what I have.
As human beings that is all we can do.
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Tuesday, October 6, 2009
I knew a lady once. She was quite old.
This lady had a very strong temperament, if you crossed her you would surely get in trouble.
She was the kind of person who could share words of wisdom one day and totally forget where she left her crane the next.
This lady was my grandmother.
Her name was Modesta which means modesty, oh how I loved her.
Back in Peru, in the rural parts to be precise, women are expected to be housebound. They are to cook for their husbands, clean, wash, and care for the house altogether. My grandmother was taught that she must follow this path (somewhat) and teach her offsprings the same.
Now that didn't settle too good with me. Being a rebel child, I refused to believe that my purpose in this life was to marry a man who would expect me to be his server. I couldn't accept that.
Countless times while sitting by her cooking fire pit she tried to lure me into learning how to cook and countless times I declined.
Little did I know I would soon regret that.
I left the country when I was eighteen, I made her promise me that she would wait for me and that we would rejoin very soon.
Life had other plans though and a few months after I left she passed away.
My world collapsed, my little old lady had left me, all I could think about was that she broke her promise, she didn't wait for me. How dare she!
After things settled better in my head I soon realized what I had lost. Not only did I lose some one important in my life but I had also lost all the knowledge she wanted to pass down to me. It wasn't only the cooking bits I missed, I also missed learning how to knit, how to boil clothing to make those stubborn stains on clothing disappear. I also missed out on acquiring her business expertise because believe it or not she has been self employed since she was nine years old.
It was only when she was gone that I realized that regardless of the reasons she had, I should have still tried to go along with her teachings. What she wanted was for me to be prepared for the world, to have life skills that would help me be self sufficient and why not, be a good wife.
I did manage to learn a few bits from her while sitting on the single step in our front door. She would tell me stories of her life and her accomplishments. She used to be a midwife you know. She was also a restaurateur and her very first job involved selling candy from a very small briefcase just to afford school supplies.
I will never get the chance to learn from her again, I regret that deeply, but I have made peace with myself knowing that what little I did take from her will be enough to be the kind of person she would have wanted me to be.
This lady had a very strong temperament, if you crossed her you would surely get in trouble.
She was the kind of person who could share words of wisdom one day and totally forget where she left her crane the next.
This lady was my grandmother.
Her name was Modesta which means modesty, oh how I loved her.
Back in Peru, in the rural parts to be precise, women are expected to be housebound. They are to cook for their husbands, clean, wash, and care for the house altogether. My grandmother was taught that she must follow this path (somewhat) and teach her offsprings the same.
Now that didn't settle too good with me. Being a rebel child, I refused to believe that my purpose in this life was to marry a man who would expect me to be his server. I couldn't accept that.
Countless times while sitting by her cooking fire pit she tried to lure me into learning how to cook and countless times I declined.
Little did I know I would soon regret that.
I left the country when I was eighteen, I made her promise me that she would wait for me and that we would rejoin very soon.
Life had other plans though and a few months after I left she passed away.
My world collapsed, my little old lady had left me, all I could think about was that she broke her promise, she didn't wait for me. How dare she!
After things settled better in my head I soon realized what I had lost. Not only did I lose some one important in my life but I had also lost all the knowledge she wanted to pass down to me. It wasn't only the cooking bits I missed, I also missed learning how to knit, how to boil clothing to make those stubborn stains on clothing disappear. I also missed out on acquiring her business expertise because believe it or not she has been self employed since she was nine years old.
It was only when she was gone that I realized that regardless of the reasons she had, I should have still tried to go along with her teachings. What she wanted was for me to be prepared for the world, to have life skills that would help me be self sufficient and why not, be a good wife.
I did manage to learn a few bits from her while sitting on the single step in our front door. She would tell me stories of her life and her accomplishments. She used to be a midwife you know. She was also a restaurateur and her very first job involved selling candy from a very small briefcase just to afford school supplies.
I will never get the chance to learn from her again, I regret that deeply, but I have made peace with myself knowing that what little I did take from her will be enough to be the kind of person she would have wanted me to be.
So I have this seasonal job right, and I do this every year. This year will be my third.
I enjoy this job, it gives me great satisfaction to know that what I do brings happiness to so many.
It's not your typical seasonal job let me tell you. No, I'm not a cashier in a department store, and no, I'm not a sales clerk either.
I'm an elf.
Yes, you read correctly, I'm an elf.
Every Christmas Santa Claus gets his list ready and calls upon his "little" helpers to aide him in the preparations that we've all known since we were kids. He checks that list, twice I might add, he figures out who's naughty or nice and all that jazz. Then, when all is ready, he goes over to Macy's in Herald Square Ny to be visited by thousands of kids.
I'm not kidding, I am an elf. It is a job title. Regular people like you and me can actually become Santa's helpers, well maybe not everyone but you get the picture.
I happened upon this job three years ago. I was in desperate need of money and I told myself I would get a job before Christmas even if it was just temporary. I saw and add online in Macys.com, it didn't say anything about elves but it said it involved dealing with large crowds of people. When I got called in for the interview there were a few people there, it was a group interview. They led us into a red room with holiday decorations on the roof. Wow! I loved it, it was beautiful and I began to understand what was going on.
"Who here believes in Santa?" the hiring manager asked. All but one person raised their hand.
They explained what the job was about and what we would be doing.
Needless to say, all but that one person got hired for the job.
So what does an elf do you might ask? Well for one we look after Santa. Santa requires a few elves to aide him with his visits. One of us brings the excited kids to see him, another one helps them sit on his lap and another takes the picture. Sometimes we are scattered around the maze to cheer people on in their long wait to see the big guy. It takes a special kind of person to do this job, in some way you have to believe in Santa, not really believe in him but what he represents. Your face must show that you have Christmas spirit and above all you have to have patience.
I guess that's why I've been invited to do this for a third year. Not everyone gets invited back you know. One of the perks of doing this too is that you get to participate in the Thanksgiving parade if you wish to.
So there you have it guys, a Christmas elf I shall be this holiday season. So why don't you come by and see us? It starts the day after thanksgiving on Macy's in Herald square. If you do come by don't forget to ask for me. My name is Peaches.
I enjoy this job, it gives me great satisfaction to know that what I do brings happiness to so many.
It's not your typical seasonal job let me tell you. No, I'm not a cashier in a department store, and no, I'm not a sales clerk either.
I'm an elf.
Yes, you read correctly, I'm an elf.
Every Christmas Santa Claus gets his list ready and calls upon his "little" helpers to aide him in the preparations that we've all known since we were kids. He checks that list, twice I might add, he figures out who's naughty or nice and all that jazz. Then, when all is ready, he goes over to Macy's in Herald Square Ny to be visited by thousands of kids.
I'm not kidding, I am an elf. It is a job title. Regular people like you and me can actually become Santa's helpers, well maybe not everyone but you get the picture.
I happened upon this job three years ago. I was in desperate need of money and I told myself I would get a job before Christmas even if it was just temporary. I saw and add online in Macys.com, it didn't say anything about elves but it said it involved dealing with large crowds of people. When I got called in for the interview there were a few people there, it was a group interview. They led us into a red room with holiday decorations on the roof. Wow! I loved it, it was beautiful and I began to understand what was going on.
"Who here believes in Santa?" the hiring manager asked. All but one person raised their hand.
They explained what the job was about and what we would be doing.
Needless to say, all but that one person got hired for the job.
So what does an elf do you might ask? Well for one we look after Santa. Santa requires a few elves to aide him with his visits. One of us brings the excited kids to see him, another one helps them sit on his lap and another takes the picture. Sometimes we are scattered around the maze to cheer people on in their long wait to see the big guy. It takes a special kind of person to do this job, in some way you have to believe in Santa, not really believe in him but what he represents. Your face must show that you have Christmas spirit and above all you have to have patience.
I guess that's why I've been invited to do this for a third year. Not everyone gets invited back you know. One of the perks of doing this too is that you get to participate in the Thanksgiving parade if you wish to.
So there you have it guys, a Christmas elf I shall be this holiday season. So why don't you come by and see us? It starts the day after thanksgiving on Macy's in Herald square. If you do come by don't forget to ask for me. My name is Peaches.
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