Our little angel

I don't know where to start. Should I even begin? Once begun, can I continue without shedding a tear? If I do tell my story, will my agony end then?

I guess I should start from the day when my life ended, and our life began -- our wedding. Truth is, I'm finding it difficult concentrating on working on this entry. . . writing in a room full of people, and the stench of old cigar trapped in an air-conditioned room is making me a little dizzy. But I have postponed writing about this for much too long, soon my poor memory will win over and everything that has happened will be worthless and forgotten. Just like too many moments in my life that I now regret not remembering. Moments that I should have treasured. Moments that I can now only remember as a faint recollection of a taste, a feeling . . . nothing more.

Our wedding. It was truly wonderful. Excited? I guess I was . . . but being an introvert to the core, I hated the attention. If only I could watch the beauty of it all from afar, and admire every detail of it. . . perhaps I would have been happier, after all Myke and I prepared every detail and event that transpired during that day. It was a day we created, produced and directed together. If there's an award for non-pro wedding planning, I'm pretty sure Myke and I would bag all the trophies. That's how proud I am at how wonderful it was.

Haha, I never thought I'd ever be in a position where I'd be so nervous that I'd forget to walk and just simply be rooted to the ground. Well that's what happened as I marched down the long aisle of San Agustin. The shoes and my heavy gown did not help me one bit. I didn't know what to do or feel. I wanted to savour the moment as much as I can. The only problem was, I didn't know how. Should I walk slowly or fast? Should I smile or cry? Should I look straight ahead or should I look at the guests? After all the preparations, this part I failed to prepare for. And so, walking down the aisle, I probably looked more like a blushing "Sisa" rather than a radiating bride. Hehehe Thanks to Veluz, I was able to save a little of my dignity . . . I dunno how she did it but every time I looked at the guests, she managed to be there and flashed me her pearly whites, that's when I remember to smile.

Smartshot was a pain-in-the-ass. Hehehe.. what I mean is for someone who's as shy and unconfident as I am, doing all those silly poses was torture. They started torturing me early that morning, even before I had my wedding dress on. I had a slight break when they left and went after Myke. . . but to my dismay they were gone only for 15 minutes, and they began torturing me again, making me smile without fluttering my eyes. Anyhow, the pictures were absolutely wonderful. Those pictures and the painstaking poses Myke and I had to undergo will be one of the most memorable moments I will treasure that day. Thanks for digital photos!

My life with Myke started that day. It's sad that after that God-blessed event, everything that followed came as a whirlwind of changes, happiness, sadness, grief, recovery and faith.

Myke and I had our honeymoon in Thailand. It was amazing, after all it was my first travel abroad. I love Thailand. They really are blessed with an amazing history, a rich, lustrous culture, and such warm and friendly people. We have ref magnets to signify this conquer. Hehehe

We stayed in my house for a month, as I also didn't want to push so big a change on my family so abruptly. My family needs me more than they claim, I know that. I have always believed I am the clown in the family, and sometimes I feel that they are expecting the same from me until now. Even when my nieces lived with us, I felt the same pressure. It's funny and flattering actually when I look back on it, but being the clown always had its downsides. I remember a time, I guess I was still in college then, when I used to wake up late in the morning. My nieces would open the door to my room several times and close the door with a little more noise than the one before. Then my mom would scold me because apparently my nieces were waiting for me to wake up. It was so ridiculous! Their mother was just upstairs doing nothing, and they were there waiting outside my room waiting. . . waiting for me to think of something interesting to do. I often tell Myke about the funny things my nieces and I come up just to occupy our day. Sometimes we'd watch anime, and I'd pause the show in one of our favourite characters or scenes, and we'd just draw. I think there was a day we melted candles on our drawings. . . . Anyway, the problem with being the clown, the life, the spark, whatever one may want to call it is that. . . I am not allowed to be sad, to be angry, to have a bad day. I guess that's how a mastered the art of masking my feelings. I am happy and bright on the outside, but somewhere inside I am suppressing my disappointments, my grief and anger. I believe this is the same reason why I sometimes blow-up my fights with Myke out of proportion. Because, he is my spark. And with him, I don't have to pretend. With him, I don't have to be strong, because he is my strength.

After a month, we transferred to our condo, just along Pioneer street. I guess more than Myke, all these changes affected me most, as I am very close and attached to my family. I had to deal with the loneliness, plus I had to fulfil my dream of being the ideal wife. . . to cook, to clean, to serve him and take care of him at all times. You know me, you know my crooked priorities. I don't know how, but during this time, I experienced a lot of problems with work... and more than anything, this disappointed me. I claim to care only about myself and my family, and as long as I am doing tremendously well with that, I am fine. But I guess, something about people judging you and how disappointed they are despite your best efforts hits something hard and personal with any victim. I cried, a lot. I am comforted by the fact that everything else was perfect except that which meant to me least. But just the same, I cried.

I knew something new was coming. I can feel it within myself and I have no doubt in my mind the test would come out positive. The first time it did not work as it should have. I was not sure if I was simply imagining the lines on that litmus-like paper. The next two, I knew nobody on this earth can dispute it. Myke and I were so happy. We went to mass and cried in thanksgiving to the wonderful gift of life God has given us.

Myke and I have always talked about our children. We would often discuss and ponder on how to properly raise a child at this time and generation. We'd pledge that our kids will not grow up spoiled and that they would grow up with great appreciation for the things that they have. We'd say that our kids would be smart but never konyotic. We have even thought of which school to enrol them in. We have promised that we would love and look after our children as if they were our friends, that we'd be involved in everything they are into... whether it be toys, computers, cars, fashion, girls, boys. We swore, we will never be strangers to out children... never how my nieces were raised. Our children would have God in their lives, never to fear Him but to have him as his dearest closest friend, as Myke and I have...

At lot of dreams, for a child who lived only in my womb for less than two months. Yes, you will ask how it happened. What could have happened to our child whose heart beat only for a while, then stopped simply for no reason. Honestly, I also do not know. Myke and I have asked every possible question we can think of to explain why we lost our baby. We cried, we prayed, I even hoped that the doctor was somehow wrong. But God has waved His hand in command, and we can't do anything else but accept. I have told my friends this several times, and my feelings remain the same. I am happy, actually... I think my faith could not be any stronger as it is now. Yes, I am not able to go to mass every Sunday as I should, and yes, I often forget to pray to Him at night before I sleep. But God and I... there is a steady rhythm in my heart that assures me, He is with me always. It did hurt when Myke told me not to blame God. Never, throughout everything that has happened, did I blame God or ask Him why this has to happen. Yes, I asked myself what I could have done to hurt my baby, what I could have done to jeopardize his/her health. Yes, I asked myself why he/she was given to me only to be taken away. I am a great believer of God and His purpose. I believe that everything that happens in my life, good or bad, has a reason. And I guess, this, this peace I am feeling inside humming inside my heart, my life, is the reason. My little angel has given me peace, something that I have not had for a very long time. My little angel has given me this awareness that God is watching me and that I am not forgotten.

That night I prayed and begged God to bless our life with children, as I bled in bed crying, afraid that something has gone astray with my operation. When I opened my eyes after a nightmare-filled sleep, I received His answer.

He said YES.