bossanovagirl

Gift

A surprised me with a new phone last night.  After coming home late from a friend's despedida party, he handed me a pink box, with a card, yet.  It wasn't my birthday, or our anniversary, or anything.  I asked him what it was for.

"Nothing.  I didn't give you anything special for your birthday, for Christmas and Valentine's Day, so I wanna make up for it."

"But you didn't have to,"  I said, because I was worried it was an expensive gift.  "I just wish it's not some silly figurine,"  I laughed.

"Open it."

"Been already wracking my brains where to put our abubots, then here's another one again."   But I knew it wasn't some dust-catcher.  A's never given me anything like those. He's developed quite a knack for giving me gifts I love.

I had difficulty opening the wrapper, and he was so excited to show me the gift. "Sweetie, you didn't have to," I said as I struggled with the tape.  I didn't want to ruin the box.

"But I want to."

"Why?"

"Because I want the best for you." It was dark in the room, because Anton was already asleep.  But by the light of the bedside lamp I could see his smile.

"Open it from the top," so excited he was, and sensing I needed help with opening (because he saw the cogs in my head were grinding again--how much was the gift?  he didn't blow his profit share over the gift?  god i hope he didn't use his credit card?) he took the box to open it for me.

And there it was. Sleek. Lovely.  And so tiny.

"It has a camera, and is an mp3 player, too. And you can use Photoshop to retouch your photos."

I wanted to cry.  I was happy, and at the same time, worried. "But we couldn't afford it."

"But I can afford it.  Quit thinking about it."

"Thank you."

"I want the best for my baby."

"That's why you texted me that earlier..."

"Yes."  He had a wide grin on his face, like that of the cat that swallowed the canary.

Awww.  Will spare you the mushy exchange after that, haha. Suffice it to say I was overwhelmed.  Earlier last night while waiting for him, I was thinking how blessed I was, as I looked at our baby.  I had almost everything I want in this life already.  And now this.

Took a lot of pics this morning of my favorite subjects--A and Anton.  Very very nice.

What's great is that my new phone's ring tone is a bossa nova tune  :)

anton as mumble

it wasn't just me. nor my imagination.

was telling my sister gigi how mumble reminded me so much of anton, that i laughed so hard watching the first few minutes of the film.  she told me that that's what she told her friends, too.  that mumble reminded her of her nephew.

the last time an animation feature reminded me of a baby relative was nemo.  defiant nemo (when he touched the boat--the "butt") called to mind my baby nephew matthew.

sheesh, such wild imagination we sisters share.

Bikini Cut

This story is going to end very happily, so read no further if you’re looking for a dramatic twist (or worse, if you wish me ill because you have an evil heart). I just had this thought that I should put it all down for Anton to read when he grows up.

At 5:30 PM, A said he was famished and told me he was going down to the cafeteria to grab a quick bite. Strangely, at that point I already wasn’t hungry anymore, although earlier I was still hoping I’d somehow be allowed  by the people in Genesis even just one bite of a sandwich.

Reminded A that once Dr. Alfiler arrives, we will go directly to the delivery room, so I asked him to hurry, and more importantly, not to forget the camera. So off my poor hungry A went—all 6 feet of him--with my lavender cord jacket and my little chunky embroidered fuchsia bag in tow, down to the cafeteria.

Then a lady appeared with a shaving kit.  I got so scared.  What if she cuts me accidentally, and the baby and me get infected? I closed my eyes and told myself to stop imagining awful things.  "She's done this a million times before," I reassured myself.

About 15 minutes later, Dr. Alfiler appeared, and I got worried because A was still in the cafeteria.

"May, how are you feeling?"  she smiled.  She was in a dress, it looked like she came from an event, and it was the first time I'd seen her without a white coat on.  I've never seen her  without her white coat.  "We're going to the delivery room soon.  The baby's cord is wrapped around the neck, and his heart rate is not improving."

"Uh, ok," was all I could feebly muster. Nervous, hungry, excited, worried.  Never have I intensely felt so many things all at once.

Then they (Dr. Alfiler included) started wheeling me to the delivery room.  It seemed it was going to be an all-female team.  On the way Doctora asked me how I liked the cut: "Nagtu-two-piece ka ba?" she asked.  I said yes.  It was true, but more than that, I just couldn't bear the thought of a vertical CS scar down my belly--I'd look like rellenong bangus!

We reached the delivery room and A was still nowehere in sight.

It was an all-female team.  The anaesthesiologist introduced herself to me in a very soft voice.  She even held my face in her two hands as she did so. Then I was asked to roll to my side, and I said, this is it--the dreaded epidural.  Oh dear Lord, I said to myself, please guide the anaesthesiologist's hand so I emerge from this alive with all my faculties intact.  I have heard of so many horror stories of epidural overdose.

The anaesthetic effect was quick.  The next time I came to, I heard a baby squealing in the distance.  It sounded so far away. I still hadn't realized it was already Anton.  I thought it was a baby in the next room.  And anyway I couldn't see, because of the screen.

I asked for A.  The nurse pointed him out to me.  He was in a far corner of the room, shooting photos--of what I couldn't tell (later I would realize it was the photo above), seeming oblivious that I had already woken up.  The room was filled with excited chattering.  Because I was numb and sleepy I could hardly tell what was happening or what they were doing to me, but they were still there behind the screen, and there was still blood, and so I thought my belly must still be gaping open with all my guts exposed for the world to see (see pic above again. eew).

Then they brought Anton to me, and we posed for our very first family shot.  Nobody even remembered to take off the plastic tube thingies off my nostrils.  A very unflattering, albeit very happy, picture.  And all I could remember clearly of that moment the photo was snapped was the thought in my head as I looked at Anton--how very beautiful he was, and how perfect.

Later Dr. Alfiler said that Anton was a miracle baby to come out looking so healthy (such lung power, and he had a healthy color) despite being underweight -- apparently, Anton had his cord wrapped around him not once, but twice--around the neck and around the right wrist, and so every time he moved his right arm, he tugged at the cord, and pulled the cord tighter around himself like a noose.

 

 

Genesis

We made it to Asian Hospital shortly before 3 PM. It was a very leisurely drive. There was no traffic; so on about 80 kph more or less, we found out it is possible to make it from Quezon City to Alabang in less than an hour.

We were instructed to go straight to Genesis; Dra Alfiler assured us that the hospital’s Admission office will be the one to send up a representative to bring us the papers we needed to fill up so A can stay by my side.

Genesis was cavernous, and it was very quiet.  (It was dimly lit, unlike the other parts of the hospital, I would realize later.) It could easily accommodate several beds, but there were only four, and the rest of it was underutilized space.

I was given a cup to fill with my urine sample. I’ve become quite an expert at collecting urine samples for different purposes, you see. Just a few days ago I underwent a drug test (don’t ask me about it na, it’s a very long story) and I was being monitored for the UTI I had developed in my third trimester. I’ve practically had nothing since the time I woke up so my bladder was quite empty, save perhaps for a couple of glasses of water, but then I’d probably already gotten rid of a large part of that this morning at Dr Alfiler’s clinic before I had my routine ultrasound check.

So I went back to the labor room with an empty cup, and the nurse told me it was alright and I could just fill it later. And then she made me lay down on the bed and she interviewed me, checked my pulse, took my blood pressure, and I was reminded all over again of that time more than a year ago in Medical City just before I had my D and C. Aside from me there was just one other patient, and she seemed to be quite young (I couldn’t see her) because her mom seemed to be just in her late forties, if not early fifties.

I went to the CR a second time to collect urine sample, and I was able to fill it only halfway (in the drug test, I was required to fill a bottle to the brim). Gave the cup back to the nurse and she seemed happy enough with the half-filled cup. I took off my jacket and lay down on the bed. And A was just sitting beside the bed the whole time, and I could see he was stressed; was surprised he still hadn’t felt the urge yet to go down and step outside to the parking lot to smoke.

The nurse then strapped me to the computer that will monitor the baby’s heart rate. She instructed me on how to watch the monitor and press the button if I noticed any change in the heart rate—beats per minute, variances, etc. She showed me how the baby’s heart rate was presently around 25-30 beats per minute, which she said didn’t look good. And to aggravate things, I still wasn't having any contractions.  She assured me that Dr Alfiler was already on her way and that I was going to be induced by 6 PM. I was incredulous. I thought the monitor was wrong or broken, somehow; I also suspiciously thought that maybe the nurses were instructed to condition the patients into demanding for a CS. I badly wanted to see Dr Alfiler.

Then a couple of doctors came to introduce themselves. I forget who they were, but one was the OB Dr Alfiler said who was in charge of that shift. She told me what a couple of nurses already told me—that the baby’s heart rate didn’t look too good. Told A I was so scared this doctor and the nurses will conspire to induce me before Dr Alfiler came. A held my hand and told me not to worry.

I kept my eyes glued to the monitor (I guess I was still hoping at that point the nurses and the doctor will tell me that I could relax, go back home and wait till the baby was full term).  Meanwhile,  the girl in the next cubicle was already wheeled in to one of the delivery rooms.

Past 4 PM (had to depend on A for the time—had to take off my watch), the heartbeats started to improve. The baby’s heart was beating strongly again, making it past the 100 mark. I pressed the button for the nurse and one came, but she told me that what they were looking for were variations in the pattern of the heartbeat. I was really worried now. I was still hoping I would go into contractions but was really scared now there wasn’t time, or Dr. Alfiler misdiagnosed somehow and I was too early. Whatever the thought that was going on inside my mind that moment could be summed up in one conclusion: that everybody—including my own OB--was conspiring to perform a very expensive Asian Hospital CS on me.

Nurses came and went—there must have been about 5 of them (all very young, too many to be assigned to just one person I thought--thought everybody’d already gone abroad), monitoring my BP, my temperature, with the most inexperienced-looking one (I could tell, because she called everybody else Ma’am and she didn’t yet have the polished bedside manner of the others) attaching me to the IV. She checked my blood pressure after that, and told me that it was 190 over a hundred plus (I forget). No way, I thought. I had been checking my BP everyday with the help of my dad’s BP monitor.  And it was always within the normal limits.

Probably it was because I was getting impatient for Dr. Alfiler to arrive, and I had already spent almost three hours lying down and clueless on what was gonna happen to me, I made a wry comment to the nurse, "Eh ikaw ba naman ang turukan ng IV, hindi ba tataas ang BP mo?"

Apparently the girl has not yet had major experience of pain, because naively she asked, "Ay, takot po ba kayo sa IV?"

I just kept my mouth shut.

a good day for a birthday

i was feeling sentimental as we locked up the apartment (and later i would realize why; soon we will have to bid goodbye to it--Anton was gonna change everything overnight for us), i felt the threat of tears sting my eyes. as A packed his stuff I killed the time by washing the dishes left on the sink (there was no water the night before). i remember my head was already feeling numb with the thoughts and worries that were running in my mind.

soon, we were off. A and i had rehearsed it in our minds probably a zillion times already--the trip to asian hospital. we debated on the best route to take; discussed the contingency plan we will have to execute if anything went awry.

this is it, i thought.

we decided to take the xavierville route to katipunan, which will take us to C5. along the way, we stopped by bpi anonas so i can take care of money matters. at the bank, as i wrote down the date on the deposit slip, i realized that that date will actually be my son's birth date. then it occurred to me then how convenient giving birth by cesarian section was. you could actually choose your baby's birthday--cool. wanting to give birth by normal delivery, i fought it all thoughout my pregnancy--i did research and took extra steps to make sure anton gets into the cephalic position.and he did.he turned cephalic as early as 18 weeks (or that was how he was, every time we took an ultrasound pic of him, at least.)

but i didn't have much choice, after all. i was gonna have an emergency inducement. and even if i didn't choose the date, it was a good date: august 15. (later i will learn that it was the feast day of the assumption.)

the traffic was very light, the day bright but not so hot. i thought happily that it was a good day to give birth.

A and i talked about how we couldn't believe that in just a few hours we will be finally meeting Anton. up to the last minute i remember telling A that we could still change the name, that we needn't name the baby after our fathers. but A said we were sticking to the name Antonio Isidro, and that there could not be a better name.<and silently i agreed;i'd already become used to referring to the baby as anton.

in a hurry

anton was born a few days short of his 27th week gestational age.

the pregnancy was relatively going on so well till one sunday evening i noticed he hardly moved inside my tummy, used as i was to watching my tummy undulate --with my feet up on the living room center table as i watched television--as i imagined him all hands and feet, elbows and knees,trying to find a comfortable position within his cramped quarters. what was alarming was his non-stop hiccups.  for days i had been paranoid about breaking my water prematurely, because of my last consultation the previous tuesday.  the doctor said the baby's growth curve had dropped in percentile, and he was now undersized. she told me to eat more. what made me paranoid was dr. mirano's (my art criticism prof) story of her driver's wife, whom she said leaked for a month, before they realized that the fetus was in distress, and was thriving on very little amniotic fluid.

and so i brought out my trusty "what to expect when you're expecting" and looked up the entries under high risk pregnancy and pre-term labor.  it was reading about  'fetal distress'  that i began to be alarmed.

there was decreased activity, and there was hiccuping.  it was a good thing i was scheduled for a check-up that coming tuesday.  since i was still not leaking amniotic fluid i was confident that the baby was still safe. but i thought i would start being more vigilant in observing myself so i would know what to tell the doctor.

that monday, there was still no improvement, and i was beginning to think that maybe the baby had already gotten too big (what with all the quarterpounders and hot fudge sundaes i feasted on when the doctor told me to eat more protein because the baby was small).  it was in the books after all.  it said that the baby would be able to move less in the tightening confines of the womb, as it was getting ready to come out in the next few weeks.

but that night i noticed a discharge in my undies, and ever the paranoid, the very next morning i began to rummage my closet to add a few more things to my bag and the baby's bag that was already packed, just in case we will be going already to the hospital any time soon. i remember my heart was racing as i did this; because of a million things that were going on in my mind:  was the baby safe?  am i going to give birth soon?  what's the baby gonna look like?  what's going to happen to the apartment while we're gone (we didn't have a maid)?  what's gonna happen when we come back (and we still did not have a maid)? should i already tell A? should i already call up my parents?  should i already be calling the doctor?  was i  overrreacting?

till i got this giant urge to sneeze, and i gave in, and as soon as i did so, i felt a warm sticky liquid trickle down my leg.  that does it, i thought to myself.  and i went to wake up A to tell him to pack his stuff and already load everything --my bag, the baby's bag and his, into the trunk of his car.

A was alarmed enough to wake up earlier than the time we had agreed we were going to my appointment;  but he pooh-poohed my fears of giving birth that afternoon and assured me that there would be time for him to pack his bags.

we went to the doctor, and i was right. the doctor told us to go home to get our bags and go directly to asian hospital.  she told me that the cord was wrapped around the baby's neck and although there was no cause for alarm yet because the baby's heart rate was still around 140 beats per minute, it might go into distress soon, and if i didn't start to have contractions by 2 PM, i will have to be induced into labor within 5 hours. she specifically instructed me not to even take a nap even if i was tired, and not to even eat lunch (which was tough, because we didn't have time to eat breakfast --we were hoping to have lunch at rufo's, as our usual routine after an appointment) and lastly, not to wear jewelry--not even a watch. we were just supposed to pick up our bags and go.  and then she handed me the admittance instructions i was supposed to hand the nurse-in-charge in genesis (what they call the birthing rooms of the asian hospital).