It’s not a Sunday, I know, but an idea popped up, and I feel the sudden need to post this.
In response to my recent post, I’ve decided to create a series about my pregnancy journey, which we’ll call:
It will basically highlight my experiences with my condition – all the things I’ve tried, and all things I’ve had and lost. I don’t think I could sum up everything I’ve gone through for the past five years on one post, so allow me to share tiny bits about my life and journey through motherhood piece by piece.
It’s that time of the year again: Happy April Fool’s Day, everyone!
It’s only 8 in the morning from where I’m from and I’m starting to wonder how many of my social media friends will post the ever-original faux pregnancy announcement. I can no longer count the number of people I’ve unfollowed because of this insensitive gag.
Let’s clear things out once and for all: IT’S NOT FUNNY. It never was. It never will be.
Picture this: You finally decide to have a child, but your doctor tells you there’s no chance for you to get pregnant. He says you’re infertile, and there’s nothing you could do about it. How will you feel? What will you do? Will you cry? Will you be upset? Will you be furious and blame God and ask, “Why me?”
You see, that’s what happened to me. And, yes, I cried, I was in distraught, and I played the blame game. I did, however, got over it and chose to look at the brighter side. I made it my mission to prove that doctor WRONG.
It was a grueling two years’ worth of endless tests, injections, and probing until I finally saw those two red lines on my pregnancy test. I spent nearly two months on full bed rest, never leaving our home unless I have a scheduled checkup. I was too afraid that one wrong move may damage my fragile baby. My 6th-week checkup was supposed to be monumental because I would finally hear my baby’s heartbeat. FINALLY! At the hospital, the doctor on duty greeted me with a huge, reassuring smile which made me feel that everything was perfect. Moments later, she fell silent. She called another doctor, and both exchanged a look. At that moment, I knew something was amiss. They were both in and out of the room, their voices hushed, and neither seems to know what to do. Finally, one heaved a sigh and stood beside me. She held my hand and said, “I’m sorry, mommy, but there’s no heartbeat.”
I did not hear a word she said after that. I felt my heart stopped. I felt my whole world shattering in an instant. I tried my best not to cry because I did not want them to see my pain. I did not want them to see how vulnerable I was. I mustered all the strength I could to get up, went outside and saw the excited smile on my husband’s face, and I broke down.
My doctor wanted to schedule an immediate D&C, but I begged him to wait some more. Maybe if I wait a little longer, a miracle would happen, and my baby will live. Perhaps if we gave it some time and prayed harder, He’ll give me my baby back. A week passed, but my miracle never happened. My baby was gone, and it was never the same after that.
It has been five years, and I could still remember the pain like it was just yesterday. It has been five years, and I’m still trying to make peace with what happened. Please tell me, how can you properly grieve someone you never had the chance to meet?
I understand most of you are innocently naïve and it’s not your intention to hurt anyone, but before you post your fake pregnancy news, think about its implications. Think about a couple struggling to get pregnant or a mother silently grieving the loss of her unborn child. What may seem funny to you may be breaking someone else’s heart. So PLEASE, be mindful of what you’ll post. April Fool’s or not.
I don’t know what got to me; I just know that I was restless beyond control this past week and I had to do something I’ve been putting off for so long.
Last Friday, my favorite masseuse, who has a month-long waitlist, called to ask if I was free Saturday morning. I had other commitments but who could say no to a good massage from someone with a month-long waitlist? Not me. By Saturday night, I was feeling so relaxed and, for some reason, more energetic than I usually am, that I woke up at 2 AM, opened my laptop, and deleted my 12-year old blog. Yes, my first – and only – blog. My baby. It’s something I’ve long-cherished and have not updated in YEARS, but could not muster the courage to let go of – until this morning, that is. Who would have thought that all it would take is some good, old hilot? I kid you not; she is THAT good.
Ten minutes into being blog free, I stared at my sleeping brood; near them, on my makeshift desk, a pile of unfinished office work remains untouched. At that time all I could think of was, “What now?” So, like what any sane, wise woman would do, I grabbed my laptop, signed up on WordPress, and I could not be any happier. Okay, that’s an exaggeration; but you get it. Right?
So, who am I?
As my About Me page says, I’m a twenty-something mom of two who’s currently preoccupied with my wife-slash-mom-slash-businesswoman duties while trying to live a life in between.
I started blogging in 2006 when I kicked myself out of the marbled halls of a certain green and white university in the hopes of escaping a career in the science lab. I was waiting for my acceptance letter from business school and had nothing productive to do apart from answering Friendster and Multiply surveys at home. I spent six years in business school while trying to maintain a blog and, eventually, plan a wedding towards the end of my final semester in uni. I immediately took on the role of being the good wife and started helping my husband run the family business – my blogging duties, gone and forgotten. Six months into married life, I enrolled in fashion school where I took a crash course in fashion styling. Halfway through that, my husband and I had our first child. I focused less on the family business and spent a year trying to do freelance styling work until reality hit, and I had to immerse myself in the world of business management fully.
“So you’re married, have two kids, AND you run your own business? Wow! You must have it all figured out!” I DON’T. I thought I would, but I don’t. I’m stuck in this thing called quarter-life crisis, and it feels like a never-ending loop. Several years ago, you could ask me what I want in life, and I’d be so certain of my answer, but now, I’m the girl who doesn’t know what she wants anymore. I voiced out this concern to my sister once, and all she said was, “It’s because the things you desire before are all yours now.” Perhaps she’s right, but does it have to feel this way?
If there’s one thing that I am slowly learning, though, it’s that there should be time for everything. There IS a time for everything. There’s a time for being crazy, a time for dancing, a time for being serious, and a time for kindness. But also, there’s a time for YOU. I have had the longest dry spell for a long time when it comes to feeling inspired, but, hey, that’s how life works. You need that dry spell to feel inspired. Otherwise, it gets bland.
So here I am, twelve years after I started my first blog. I’m now older, a little calmer, hopefully, a little wiser, but still just as much of a dreamer as I was. I am hoping that my anonymity would give me full control over my very own space on the internet and maybe put an end to this dry spell I’ve been experiencing for so long. You are very much welcome to check in on me once in a while, and maybe help me try to figure out this crazy little thing call life.