Posts in Motherhood
Motherhood Year One

t was a spur-of-the-moment experiment. I saw my little one stumble and fall from cruising the furniture quickly. While I heard the thud, a part of me waited for the cry of pain; a part of me resisted the urge to run and help. What would he do? He laid there for a couple of seconds. I stood still. And then - to my surprise and relief - he picked himself up, smiled at me, and laid his hands on the couch to cruise once again. It's all right, Mom, he must have thought. 

Was it a showcase of bravery? Could it be credited to him being a boy? Maybe it just didn't hurt at all? I've seen this happen, over and over, in different contexts and situations. Then I figured it out. He's just doing what babies do: experiencing life and then responding to the newness, to the rawness of it all. Perhaps we need a redefinition of babies? In my one year of being a mother (oh so short but also oh so long!), my son has showed me that he is not a helpless creature. Yes, of course, they need to be carried, fed, bathed, and changed. But for all that they cannot yet do, they know how to learn…

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Dear First Time Mom

If I could write a letter to my pregnant self, here's what I would say...

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Dear First Time Mom, 

Let me tell you the truth: motherhood is laced with idyllic stories and tempting fantasies. I'm looking at you now, your 8-month pregnant self, belly rounded with life and your head full of those half-truths. You're dreaming about wrapping your son in his muslin blankets, planning out his monthly birthdays, shopping for his stylish organic rompers. You're spending so much time looking at swimming trunks online, little shoes and backpacks for all his adventures. You wonder what toys and books and Disney movies you'll introduce to him first. You and your husband are brimming with excitement as this new chapter is finally within your horizon. 

But let me hold your hand, Deanne. Let me show you the realness, the rawness of it all.

Brace yourself. Are you ready?...

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Hi, Noah!

I was expecting but everything that happened that day was unexpected. I woke up that morning dazed from lack of sleep, frustrated at the endless tossing and turning I did the previous night. Couple that with the horrendous traffic to our weekly hospital checkup and I had the kind of morning that I wanted to forget. 

Amidst the white walls of my doctor's clinic, we discussed the long wait our baby was making us go through. I was 39 weeks and 4 days and there were still no signs of labor. No contractions, no water breaking, no pain. Obsessed with getting things done on time, I was secretly worried. I had three days left to give my baby a chance to come into the world naturally. Otherwise, I would go under the knife. It seemed like it could happen in three days. It seemed like it couldn't, too. 

Before the ordered internal exam, my husband and I had lunch. Over our favorite spaghetti, fried chicken, and chocolate chip pancakes, I talked about my worries, he talked about his dreams, we talked about our parenthood. In spite of the fears, there was a lot of laughter over anything and everything. I palpably felt the chemistry that brought us together years ago. He reminded me that even if things don't go our way, we would still have Noah...

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Aloha, Baby D!

Oh how fun the second trimester was! When I finally got over the blues and waves of the first trimester, I felt human again. But there was still a lot of waiting to do - after all, I was only halfway through the pregnancy - so I needed to find something to fill my days with. 

The Baby Shower! I defied the rule that said it had to be thrown by family and friends. In true maternal (and perfectionist?) form, I decided to do it myself. As the invite said, I wanted it to be, 'a celebration of thanksgiving and joy'. We've waited for this baby for a while so this mama (and papa) had every reason to throw a party, right?

First, the theme. I didn't want the party to literally say BABY! so I searched for the perfect theme to tie everything together. Considering that our baby would be born during summer (and we were all beginning to feel the heatwave), I just knew that it had to be TROPICAL. So I scoured the city - mostly from my laptop - for suppliers of garden chairs, monstera leaves, orchids, seashells, starfishes, and tropical flowers...

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The Truth Behind The Bump

I was in my bed, crying out of frustration. It was almost 9 p.m. and my husband wasn't home yet and I hadn't had dinner yet and I had not thrown out the trash yet. I wanted to but I couldn't. Pregnancy. There's just something about the first trimester that makes you helpless and weak and - dare I say it? - useless. 

It was a bleak time, a bad time, an unforgiving time... for me.

I didn't want any of it. I didn't want go through it anymore, the underbelly of the bump.

My days became nights. Most mornings were lost since I would wake up close to noon. My husband would kiss me goodbye as he would leave for work and I would only faintly remember that. I stood up to eat and then went back to lying down again. Loneliness loomed. I had no more time to spend as sleep became my ally. Closing my eyes seemed like the best solution to the endless nausea and fatigue and loss of appetite. Perhaps it would all go away? When it always seemed like night, they did...

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