Memoirs of a Mummy · Miscarriage · The Gift of An Ordinary Day

So this is what it is like to be a stay-at-home mom

Officially, my medical leave started last April 14 when I had my dilation and curettage procedure or D&C for short or more widely known locally as raspa. It was not scheduled. I don’t know what was I thinking but I thought it won’t happen until last week. Had I known that the D&C could happen that soon, I would have prepared a transition plan at work. I am thankful for the opportunity to slow down. I am thankful for the 2 month paid leave from work. I am thankful for my understanding and supportive boss, team and colleagues. But still, I can’t help but feel guilty for the work that I had to suddenly had to pass on to them. I just hope the work-at-home tools and accesses that I requested for will be granted soon.

On the first week of my ML, the long leave did not sink in yet. I had the procedure done in Medical City. Franco stayed with me. And then Holy Week. To me, it just felt like a longer than usual long weekend. It was last week when I realized that I am blessed with a lot of time in my hands. In some ways, I am  lucky that we lost our baby in summer. If it happened during the school year, I would be sulking at home with no Aki to keep me entertained. He is just so chatty and energetic that he won’t let me feel depressed nor will let me get some rest. Mega thanks also to Ate Doring. Imagine going through an emotional rollercoaster and still having to clean the dishes.  I am also grateful that even if the sun has never been this powerful, we live in a breezy corner allowing us to get some work done instead of living in the airconditioned cave that is our bedroom.

Here is what I did for the first 3 days of my leave (April 21-23)

Coached/tutored/bribed/threatened Aki to write his name and his A-Z.


I am happy to report that his handwriting has improved  significantly since the start of summer.


Made pandan gulaman ice candy

Cleaned up the Japanese room/guest room/walk-in closet/storage room. These are what we are selling in our garage sale this May.

One more cabinet to go and we can already start pricing.


Got more hands on in menu planning although I was too lazy to cook.


Hosted a late Easter egg hunt for Aki and his village pals.


Used reverse psychology to make Aki eat veggie straws or kangkong stems. The more I said that he is not adventurous enough or he is not fast enough to eat them in X seconds, the more excited he got to accept my challenge.

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Memoirs of a Mummy · Miscarriage · My Favorite Posts

So this is how it feels to miscarry

So this is how it feels to miscarry
So this is how it feels to say goodbye when you did not even had the chance to say hello
So this is how it feels to love someone whom you will never get to meet
So this is how it feels to try to cancel your hopes, dreams and plans
So this is how it feels to be deliriously happy and then be suddenly indescribably sad
So this is how it feels to prepare yourself for bad news but actually hearing it still  felt like a dementor attack
So this is how it feels to hold back the tears when your heart feels like exploding because the doctor still need to take some measurements, because you still need to wait for the report, because the cashier is 5 floors down
So this is how it feels to thank God profusely for granting your prayers and then weeks after desperately asking Him to make the pain more bearable
So this is how it feels to not want to and not know how to answer, “How are you?”

I am sorry, baby Emily.
If there is something I should not have done but did ,
If there is something I should have done that didn’t,
I am sorry.
I am so sorry.

I am sorry I will never get to hold you
I am sorry I will never get to see you coo, smile, laugh and say Mama for the first time
I am sorry I will never get to brush your hair  or see you blissfully get dizzy as you spin in your whirly twirly dress
I am sorry I will never get to bring you to our breakfast picnics at the church parking lot
I am sorry i will never get to read to you the not-your-ordinary princess books that I have been secretly collecting even before Dadoy and I planned to have another baby
I am sorry I will never get to look at the 2014 family Christmas photo and say, “She was still so small here”.
I am sorry I will never get to do the many things I was looking forward to us doing together

I say goodbye to documenting my growing belly and finally introducing you to the world
I say goodbye to the plans of dressing you up as baby Princess Leia on a boring day
I say goodbye to the bahay kubo where you were supposed to spend countless hours with your Ate Raya
I say goodbye to the hand sewn baby dresses and ruffled diaper covers that I was going to make for you
I say goodbye to making “Go Aki!” banners with you for Kuya Aki’s jujitsu competitions
I say goodbye to our first Divisoria trip together when you reach your tenth birthday
I say goodbye to the priceless expression on your face when I tell you that I got us tickets to the concert of your favorite boy band

I wish you had the chance to meet your daddy. He is playful but firm. He will annoy you for his own entertainment, teach you things that I do not approve of and scoop you up and hug you tight when you are feeling low.
I wish you had the chance to meet your Kuya Aki. He was so looking forward to meeting you. He will make you be-not-sad-anymore invisible popcorn whenever he sees that you need some cheering up.

Well at least now, I can go to Megamall and learn how to ice skate with Aki and not worry if I fall.
I can now have that Thai massage that my body has been begging for.
Now  I can run again. I surprised myself when I enjoyed my runs with Franco. Now we can run and run and run and not care.
At least now I don’t have to deal with the discomforts that come with pregnancy.
I won’t be a zombie again as I pacify with a crying infant at 2AM.
Whoever said changing soiled diapers is fun, must be mental.
Unsafe sharp corners, picky eating, public tanrums and terrible twos. I won’t have to go thru all those anymore.

My life will go back to normal

But normal is not what I want.

Goodbye my sweet little angel.  Goodbye.


PS I wrote this the day after we found out.
I did not want to post this initially. I try to veer away from posts that are too personal or are too depressing. This post is both. But when it was most painful, what helped me was reading other women’s experiences about their own miscarriage. If you are a grieving mother-to-be, tight tight hugs to you. The pain will not be there forever.

And in case you are wondering, I am feeling better. Much better. Not okay but better than days ago. I actually had not cried for 2 days until my friend Cye asked me earlier, “How are you?”

Please include me in your prayers. I just want to move one with my life but I still have to go thru some lab tests and possibly some treatments related to the failed pregnancy.

🙂 😦 🙂 😦





Akisms · Memoirs of a Mummy · Mrs. Monologues

An Angel Named Lydia

It is with  sadness and tears in my eyes, that I would like to inform everyone that our dearest Manang Lydia passed away last December. She died because of a vehicular accident when she was on her way to attend Simbang Gabi in her hometown in Samar.

At first, I could not  and did not want to believe it really happened. I cried myself to sleep that night and cried the whole day in bed the next day, our 3rd wedding anniversary.

She could not just die. She has so many dreams for her family. She has many talents that she has not taught me. She has not given me the recipe for the siomai that we have been trying to perfect. She hasn’t heard Aki say Payyyyyys (surprise!). She is only 40 years old. She has 4 biological and 2 adopted kids. She does not have a lot but she gives and gives and gives. She promised to come back and take care of me when I give birth to my next child. She’s active in their church. She could not just die. Not that way. Not now.

If you have been reading my blog, you’d know that she was not just an employee. We love her and treated her like family. The last time we talked which was November, she said she’d coming back this January. Maybe, if she woke up late that fateful morning and decided to miss the mass, she would probably be here in with us. Or maybe, she could have just went back to Manila a few weeks earlier and attended the Simbang Gabi here instead. I could have had a partner in potty training Aki.

I think about and worry about her family too. When we last talked, I semi scolded her for not telling me that Elmer, her husband had been sick and needed medication. Her dream for Angela, her eldest, if for her to finish HRM and work for the restaurant of her cousin in Japan. As for Ella, Manang wants her to pursue her daughter’s dream of being part of the police force. For Jeffrey, her only son, Manang wanted to buy a small piece of land. Can someone who has so many dreams, who has many dependents, who is active in church and in the community,  die just like that?
Oh well, I try not to think about her death and just try to think about how she was when she was alive.

I remember her everyday. All the time.

I remember her every time  I look at my roses. I was supposed to replace them with other easier-to-maintain plants. We have somewhat neglected the roses ever since Cheryl left. The plants did not flower for around 2 months. But, on the week, Manang became and angel, one  of the plants bloomed a very red rose.

I remember her every time, I go to my in-laws’ house and see the make shift basketball ring that she made. Aki received three rings and managed to ruin all 3 of them in just a matter of days.I told Manang to throw the rings away. Instead of following my request, she took one of the rings to my in-laws and attached it to the gate so Aki can play basketball anytime.

I remember her every time it rains or when the sun is high. She fixed my umbrella without me asking her to.

I remember her every time I see the DIY hook that she made so we can use the beams in the roof of service area, as sampayans.She is always been like that. Very proactive and resourceful.

Continue reading “An Angel Named Lydia”