Friday, December 21, 2012
Making the Monkey Costume
I was just so happy to have time to do home projects with Ozzy and accompany him to his first school production practices. His first on-stage role was a monkey. I tore up a bathroom towel, and got him a monkey hat.
Order!
I started this two years ago when we started addressing Ozzy's hyperactivity and speech delay. I just want to share how successful it is. Ozzy is responsible for his toys now. We emptied the box for alphabets and animals because he has mastered them already and assigned it to robots and super heroes.
Somebody's been Driving into my Fridge!
There are two marvelous additions to my living space and one belonged to me. The other belonged to Ozzy. It was some sort of a go cart that had four wheels and a steering wheel. Anyway, I was there when he ran into my refrigerator the first time. Mom went berserk. Ozzy begged me not to get angry at him.
"See, mom, it's gone." He placed the letter N on top of the dent. The next day, while having breakfast, I noticed this.
True enough, I found another dent under the letter "S". I know they were accidents. Obviously Ozzy knows that denting my fridge isn't a good thing. But I have to remind him how I feel each time something like that happens.
This is how I encourage mindfulness at home...
"See, mom, it's gone." He placed the letter N on top of the dent. The next day, while having breakfast, I noticed this.
True enough, I found another dent under the letter "S". I know they were accidents. Obviously Ozzy knows that denting my fridge isn't a good thing. But I have to remind him how I feel each time something like that happens.
This is how I encourage mindfulness at home...
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Lawrence Porthos Victoria
Internment
November
16, 2012, Friday
“Lawrence Porthos Montes
Victoria : 13 November 2012 - 13 November 2012. In the few months he lived in April Montes Victoria 's womb he gave us joy and peace. We commend his soul to God
who is all merciful. Although he is without legal personality, he is a person.
His 'tent' we shall put into a decent resting place. His memory shall bring us
smiles of one walking hand in hand, feeling the warmth, of the palm of our ever
caring Father.” --- my father’s words.
We had Porthos cremated. We
were going to put him in my parent’s ossuary. After filling up the paper work
(death certificate for fetal demise), blessing, cremation, and payments, my
husband held my hand and said, “We are wiser now.” I don’t know exactly what
piece of wisdom we got, but I did feel we were stronger together now more than
ever. We were going to bury our child.
November 18, 2012,
Sunday
Matthew 19:14.
Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them,
for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."
We
buried Porthos on a Sunday afternoon at around 1pm. My siblings, parents, and
in laws attended. A good mommy friend came. It was simple. They say unborns go
straight up to heaven and become angels and so we didn’t have to wait for forty
days. I know he is watching over us from heaven.
Recovery
Until
this day, I don’t know why it happened. I can only tell you how it happened.
There was no more heartbeat. That was all.
I have
trusted the will God in all my life’s experience, and his faithfulness have
always brought good, but for this, there is more confusion in my heart than
definite answers. It gives me an opportunity to trust Him and carry on. I am
not leaving this part of my life behind me. For sure I will carry this around;
sometimes like a badge of honor, sometimes like a haunting memory.
For the
past couple of days, I have been spending my time with Ozzy. It has been Ozzy
and Mommy adventures again. I pray one day, Ozzy Bear’s Crib will make room for
another one.
D&C
Labor
and Delivery
November
11, 2012 Sunday
According
to the OB, the best way to get the baby out was to let it pass naturally before
a D&C. So Saturday evening, at around 7 o’clock, I was given the first
inducer. I went into contractions on long intervals that night. Losing a child
was painful and overwhelming. I could not sleep.
I had my
husband bring me to the hospital the next day at 5am. I was discharging water
and blood. When the ER doctor asked me what happened, I could barely explain
myself as I was crying through my words. They sat me down and read my doctor’s
request instead.
The
first day, Sunday was spent in the Labor Room with continuous medication to
make the baby pass. Porthos hung in there quite well. There were minimum
contractions and I felt fine. I was monitored every two hours for my vital
signs. I could feel everybody’s prayers and so there was no fear in my heart.
November
12, 2012, Monday
Monday
came and Tuesday came, and still I could o’t go into active labor. Porthos
had not come out. It was a difficult situation. Porthos was 14 weeks and was too
big. His position was transverse. There was risk of infection and poisoning
from within. The doctor says he’d have to fold in order to come out. And our heart’s desire was for Porthos to
come out whole and complete and to not to risk any damage to my uterus. I was
monitored faithfully by the nurses at the hospital.
I have
never had to be so brave. I was braver than the time I had delivered Ozzy. I’ve
had IV’s stuck on me. First on my left, then on my right, two skin tests, two
cbc’s. I am normally very pleasant and sensitive to the responsibilities of the
people around me, but I remember telling the nurse, rather resistive
“nasosobrahan na yata ako ng turok”. She could only say she was sorry.
Mothers
came in and out of the labor room to deliver their babies. I was there for
three days, waiting to pass out mine. I prayed for each one and blessed their
babies too. But when I would hear a baby come out crying from the nearby
delivery room, I would cry by myself. I’m not sure exactly what my cries were
about: loss, sadness, regret, envy, impatience, and so on…
November
13,2012 Tuesday
By
Tuesday, my doctor was convinced she had to put a deadline. If the baby doesn’t
come out, she’d have to perform a “piece meal”. That meant: to take out the
baby piece by piece. It was scheduled for Wednesday morning, 8am. Tuesday
night, around 9pm, I uttered “good bye baby” and touched my stomach lovingly. It
was the most painful thing I’ve had to say. Porthos came out Tuesday night at
10:45pm after a rather painful bout of contractions. I finally went into active
labor. Porthos was placed in a bottle. I
remember he was very cute even if he was just a 14 week fetus. Children are
always beautiful to their mother’s eyes, and it was very true.
I
remember my nurse’s name that night was Joy. And she sounded like a pre-school
teacher as she talked to me. She could be a good one, I thought to myself. She
was talking me through what had to be done and what was going to happen. When
my anesthesiologist gave me the anesthesia and put me to sleep, it was the
first time in three nights that I had slept well. In recovery, the nurse had
asked me to move my feet. “I can’t”; even if I used all my will power to. She
smiled at me, “nagagalaw niyo po.” I looked down at my feet and they waved at
me, left and right, like another person saying hello. It felt bizarre.
November
14/ 15, 2012, Wednesday and Thursday
The day
after the D&C, Wednesday, I had the worst pain in my gut. So this is what a
mother meant when she wrote “like I had been run over by a bus” in her blog
after a D&C procedure. It felt exactly as she said. It was worse than
delivering a living baby. My sister Aika took a leave to be at my side that
day. I was lucky to have her there. In the afternoon, my friends from work came
to visit. It was good to see them and have their energy around me again.
Porthos
was put in a bottle and was given to me. Nobody wanted a look. As I carried him
in his bottle on the way home, I was carrying my baby and although it was a
shell, I was still carrying my baby, born still.
It was
the first time that I had missed Ozzy. We hadn’t seen each other for four days.
I couldn’t wait to come home to him and find out how his days went. We were
discharged at around noon time.
I lay on
the bed as soon as we got home. The hospital beds where too firm on my back. I
could hear the school bus stop in front of the gate. Ozzy, with a great big
smile on his face, enters the house and jumps on the bed. His hair was standing
up wildly for he has missed his Sunday haircut, his button nose full of
scratches from his uncut nails, and had a huge black and blue bruise on his
forehead. He looked as if he had gone to battle himself. He showered me with
kisses like a puppy smothering his master. “Mommy I (l)wove you. I (l)wove you.
I (l)wove you”.
I told
him that Porthos is gone. He looked at me with understanding. “I can (l)wie
down on your stomach now,” he said and did just that.
“Where’s Porthos, Mommy?”
In
august, we discovered that Ozzy Bear’s Crib was going to make room for another
child. Bits had nick named the baby “Porthos” because of my quick growing
belly. Ozzy would kiss and hug the little one in my belly all the time.
I had asked
Ozzy, “Where will Porthos sleep?” He pointed at the space next to me, “this
way”. Then I asked him, “Where will Ozzy sleep?” He pointed at the floor, “that
way.” Although Ozzy bear’s crib was just
a small house, at that point I knew that Ozzy was ready to be kuya.
Everything
from then on became “Porthos and I”—our breakfast, our lunch, our dinner, our
vitamins, our milk. It was now Ozzy, Mommy, and Porthos. Often winded,
nauseated, and sleepy, my pregnancy felt easy because of the lack of bed rest
compared to my pregnancy with Ozzy. I was ecstatic about Ozzy having a good
friend and a playmate at home. I was excited to have a little one in my arms
again too. Once mother of one, now to be mother of two is like receiving a
promotion from God—the best part of my life.
I can
think of the time when it might’ve happened. November 2, in the afternoon, I
felt as though my heart had literally skipped a beat, like it missed a step. I
remember telling myself, “nangyayari pala
yon.”. It was November 10, on a typical doctor’s appointment, when we found
out Porthos no longer had a heartbeat. I was telling Ozzy that we get to hear
the heartbeat that day. I had only seen the heartbeat through the IV
ultrasound. I remember it being very strong and that people thought we were
going to have a girl. We lost our pregnancy in the second week of November, an
early intrauterine fetal demise. Porthos lost his heart beat at 14 weeks. We
discovered it on his 15th week. My husband and I broke down crying
in the chapel next to the OPD that evening. We were holding each other’s hand, heartbroken.
Why does God give life only to take it away? It’s still not very clear to me
yet. That conversation with God is not yet over.
Although,
I am overwhelmed by the support of friends and family, I felt that the
adventures of Porthos, Ozzy and I were too short lived. Porthos was a dream,
almost unreal. I was in complete shock. Bits reminds me, as I indulged into
episodes of weepiness and feeling alone, that I still have Ozzy waiting for me
at home, and I would swallow my sadness like a good soldier.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Father and Son
It's such a joy for me to watch my boys spend time together. It gets crazy because they're very similar and opposite in many ways.
Our History on a Fridge Door

How time flies. My son has gone from Thomas the train to super heroes now. One time I saw him scaling the walls. "I'm spiderman," he says. He is now into superheroes and have spent most of his toy store time asking for Iron man. Who knew this day will come so soon?
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