A Quarantined Celebration

At the stroke of midnight, Cris gave a little surprise for Mother’s Day. For the past 3 years, he’s been greeting me and treating me out for Mother’s Day because of Ezra, our baby in heaven. This year is a little different but he did not let the ECQ stop him.

He remembered how much I love dark chocolate and macadamia so I was really happy with his little surprise.

I wanted to prep something special for lunch so I asked him to get some meat cuts on his last grocery run. I wanted to have samgyeopsal (Korean BBQ) at home so we can have a little taste of normalcy. I also wanted to use our electric hotpot & grill, which has been sitting in our kitchen cupboard for so long. Original plan is to cook and eat in our balcony, but it was a logistics nightmare. As a workaround, we just made use of our good old grill pan and sauce pan and cooked in our stove instead.

Our lunch menu was ssamjang soup — pork broth seasoned with soybean paste, samgyeopsal — pork belly, and chadolbaegi — thin slices of beef brisket. I made a quick video about it because I’m currently having so much fun with my phone’s movie editor tool. Haha! Forgive me!

It really makes me happy when I cook and prepare meals for my husband, especially when he really enjoys it and not just pretend that it tastes good. 🤣

He gave me another surprise but that deserves another post. 😉

Afternoon was spent praying The Holy Rosary in honor of the Blessed Virgin Mary (and as requested by our Mama so we can’t really say no). And since it’s still ECQ, we did it over Zoom.

I hope that on Father’ Day, we can already go out and celebrate but that might be wishful thinking for now. Our ECQ has been extended for another 2 weeks and who knows what will happen by end of the month.

Despite all the restrictions, I’m still very thankful for the gift of life, love, and family.

A different kind of Mother’s Day

Mommy, thank you for teaching me independence and resilience. You’ve always supported me in every step of the way. You’ve always been proud of me, of us, without being overbearing. In most of my problems, when I become too sad that I can’t even bring myself to cry, you cried for me; when I become too jaded to even believe, you prayed for me. And for that, I am forever grateful.

Mama, thank you for teaching me patience and grace. You made me realize that there’s strength in vulnerability and wisdom in silence. It’s so easy loving Cris because you raised him as the man that I’ve always wanted to end up with. You have accepted me as your own since the first day we met. And for that, I am forever grateful.

From both of you, I re-learned faith — not the kind that was taught in school, by my elders, or by society. It is a stronger kind of faith, a faith that resonates even if I don’t shout about it or I don’t impose it on anyone. It is the kind of faith that re-affirmed my belief in a Higher Being.

That not everything could be explained, and that’s ok. That not everything has to make sense, and that’s ok. That everything has a reason for being.

Now that we are all entering a new and exciting phase in our lives, I continuously pray that I exude your strength, resilience, and faith.

I love you both!

November 13, 2015: The day Cris proposed. The day when I said yes to having two mothers.

 

To my Fellow Mothers

I hope this reaches you in one way or another. I hope that this will never be too late. For our struggle is a daily thing. Some just get by faster than others, but I know that slowly we’ll get there…

Yesterday was particularly hard. It’s difficult to celebrate when you are reminded by the loss. I know the dull aching pain that creeps up on you, consuming your whole being. The pain that gives you the sudden migraines and body ache, enough to have an excuse to sleep the day off. It takes a great deal of strength and self control to hold back tears, especially when you see new Moms holding their tiny babies, celebrating with their own families.

I know because I am like you. I lost my little one, too, last year and sometimes, it still feels like it just happened yesterday.

But you know what? We’ll get by. Trust me, we will. We just need to give ourselves time to grieve and heal. Recovery is not a sprint, it’s a marathon. And every runner has a different running style, pace, and endurance.

Whenever I feel so low, I remind myself that I am a Mother to an Angel. And that one day, I’ll be able to hold his tiny little fists, hug him, and kiss him in heaven.. or wherever the afterlife is. And that gives me the strength that I need to make it through the day.

To my Fellow Mothers, I pray for our collective strength, resilience, and faith. Happy Mothers’ Day!

[happy] Mother’s Day, Birthday Girl.

Last Sunday, May 14, was specially hard for me. My birthday coincided with the nationwide celebration of Mother’s Day. People all over are greeting moms, telling them how they are the greatest. Watching ASAP with Jolina Magdangal hosting this special tribute to non-celebrity moms while doing the dishes was a struggle.

I cried silently, careful not to let Cris know; my fat tears mixing with the dishwashing liquid’s foamy formation on the sink. It was a good five minutes of this drama before I decided that I had enough. I searched for the remote and turned off the TV.

A friend who had a miscarriage, too, warned me about how Mother’s Day is specially difficult for us.  For it is a reminder of what you have lost and what could have been. And seeing moms, especially the ones who are just pregnant or recently gave birth, hurt. You want to be happy for them, but you can’t help but feel sorry for you, too.

That’s the sad reality.

I am not a birthday person but on that day, I decided to celebrate like a normal birthday person would. I think part of me was determined not to waste the day feeling sorry for myself. That is not what Ezra would want his Mama to do.

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One of my friends whom I barely talk to these past months sent me a message which struck me the most:

This year is just starting and it became the happiest and toughest at the same time. I admire that you can still stand up and offer your smile to everybody. Wishing you more doses of strength, more smiles to offer.

Cheers to your life, Dada.

And in part, he was right. I am one of the most pessimistic person I know, mostly because I believe in self-preservation. I don’t want to get my hopes up over something that will not even materialize. But through this journey, I discovered that I can be really optimistic if I wanted to. And that my strength is something that could withstand all of my weaknesses.

My sister-in-law who, coincidentally, shares her birthday with mine greeted me a ‘Happy Mother’s Day’. She insisted on it upon seeing the surprised look on my face. “You’re still a mother”, she said. Thinking it through, she is absolutely right. I may not have a baby now but I’m currently a mother to my angel. I appreciate her bluntness sometimes. I’m so grateful to her for not skirting around the issue and trying to be polite.

One of the sweetest gifts that I got was from my brother-in-law. It was a picture of Ezra (represented by Ezra Miller as The Flash) playing with Mr. Frodo. A poem was attached to it that makes me tear up every time I read it:

 

Mama don’t fret. Papa be strong…

Don’t worry, Ezra. Mama and Papa are trying their best. 

It took me almost a month to finish this entry. Part of me was thinking to delete this altogether because this site is becoming a wee bleak. But I found that honest writing helps in the recovery. Especially since I had a hard time talking about my real thoughts and feeling with the people around me. Sometimes I feel like having an alter ego. The public Dada is the happy Dada, while the private Dada is the one who still cry a little every night and still dwell on her what ifs.

Little by little, step by step, I’ll get there…

I already made a small achievement by congratulating a couple friend for being pregnant. And in so doing, I only felt genuine happiness. No sadness; no feeling sorry for myself.

One day at a time…

As they say, there’s always a rainbow after the rain. And right now, these two boys are the very spectrum that completes me.

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Someday there might be four, five, or six of us in this rainbow. Who knows?