A Woman Is Now A Mom

I remember vividly the moment that I became a mother. Not in the physical sense, but in the spiritual sense.

It wasn’t the moment of conception, or the day that I found out that I was pregnant. It wasn’t when I felt the first kick of my precious addy’s little foot, nor was it when they lifted him and placed him in my arms, still wet and screaming after his exit from my womb. It was in a moment of blinding joy the evening after he was born.

I tried to rest that first night, after giving birth, but I couldn't sleep. While kirsten is in her la la la land already, I kept my baby with me most of the time.. I counted his fingers and toes. I nursed him. I started writing in my small notebook all information about Addy. Later that night I nursed himr to sleep and put hir in the bedside bassinet. I turned off the lights and climbed into bed after checking on him several times, just to make sure he's okay. Then I got back up and just stared at him. I felt as if my heart swelled several sizes and then I burst into tears. I was absolutely overwhelmed by the need to protect him, love him and do whatever was necessary to make sure he was perfectly happy. I tried thinking of a name because what i have is for a baby girl. I checked him again, just to make sure he's sleeping, he's fine. I texted everyone in the Philippines, States and even friends in Saudi and Oman.

The world seemed to stop spinning; only ADDY and I existed. Nothing else mattered.


And after 6 months, I realized that of all the things I've done in my life, nothing feels more important than the responsibility of raising a person brimming with self-confidence, the ability to love and the desire to contribute to society.

I am proud that my little one has never known a moment without love. A he grows older, he may not always recognize that love comes in a variety of forms: he may gripe about limited TV viewing, or roll his eyes at the thank-you and welcome letter that I insisted winnipeg people to write during my babyshower. But one day, my son will get it.

Being a mom feels like the most important job in the entire world. In effect, I can create a masterpiece! Sure, my son comes with genetic material that controls more than we know, but I have the awesome ability to direct those inborn traits to their fullest potential.

I can't be perfect at motherhood. But the well-being of my child demands that I always do my best. One day he will blossom into a man who is in charge of his own destiny, and is appreciative of the life he has been given -- if I do my job right.


If I could, I'd put "mommy" on my resume, because nothing has taught me as much responsibility, or given me as many new skills, as 9.10 kg wonder named ADDY -- who is now eating fresh mangoes, biscuits, and crawling around the house.

The most rewarding, and surprising, thing about motherhood is how much I can affect the future, even after I am gone. My son will one day graduate from climbing the dining room table to scaling much greater heights. And a lot of that is up to me.

On Being A Single Mom

It's long been assumed that motherhood brings meaning to our lives. We guide, love, nurture and support our offspring and sometimes feel appreciated in return -- all elements that can fuel our connectedness and satisfaction in the world. It's easy to find meaningful moments as a mom, but it's when things are tough that it seems we don't know how to interpret what meaning is. What if the greatest reward and meaning of being a mother is the growth our children force us to do?

Being a parent is a very hard job no matter how you slice it, but to further the true blessing that children are is to work equally hard on being conscious and mindful of the growth our kids call forth in us. Perhaps your patience needs work or your critical side needs to be quieted or you need to learn compassion or you could stand to give up some perfectionism. Parenting in a kind and loving way can only come if we face these issues in ourselves. Maybe this is the true meaning behind being in relationship with these souls.

As a parent, you accept from the start that it is all your fault. Every last inhibition, weakness and thing that goes wrong in your child's life is down to you -- however old they are. If they get bullied, bully, pick the wrong course at university or marry the wrong girl, it is all because you did it wrong. As a parent -- deep-down, you know you suck. You know it is not the kid's fault (however old the kid is) -- you made a hash of it.

I don't know it I am making sense here, I just feel like writing, writing randomly. Just whatever, probably I am back to reality that I have to face this journey alone. well, not really alone because I have my adorable ADDY with me.

I then realized. being a parent is really hard. Now, i imagine what my parents went through. Albeit, being a single parent is harder. You have to work twice as much. You have to work 24/7, there's no rest day, no salary, no lunch breaks,  no meeting, but it's full of overtime, of sacrifices for ADDY, of love for ADDY. After 6 months....it's sinking in....

It's hard because not all people can understand or willing to understand probably because they can't feel the things that i am going through...or any mothers are going through. I guess they have to be a mother first before they understand.


and as i am writing this senseless note..... someone send me an email......

"She Reminds Us"
by/with Mike Greca
Dedicated to all mothers

In mothers arms a baby sleeps
She swears she hears an angel breathe
Baby wakes and hungrily
By mammas breast the baby feeds

She Reminds Us
That love can conquer anything

Daddy's left them all alone
Always drinks but never phones
But she'll make sure her baby grows
If it's the last thing in life she ever does

She Reminds Us
That love can conquer anything
She reminds us
There are some things only wider eyes can see

Boy he grows
By mammas love
And mamma knows
That heaven above
Gives its angels just enough
Though daddy could not give
Mamma loves him twice as much to cover it
And the boy he grows.....

Days than years go flyin' by
And mamma's still working overtime
Makin sure her little boy becomes
Twice the man his father never was

She reminds us
There are some things only wider eyes can see
She reminds us
That love can conquer anything
Mamma loves, and her love is loud
Boy he grows into a man strong and proud
Mamma loves, and her love is loud
She reminds us that love can conquer anything

here's the video link for the song lyrics.... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uy1qtdmndUI

after watching the video......i realized that my eyes are wet....my heart is pounding.....

to all the mothers out there....im proud of you....i hope one day i can be proud of myself as well..

Mother's Love

One of my favorite quotes is this: "Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." Elizabeth Stone

As soon as I had my first child, I learned that as soon as that baby makes its appearance in the world you must start letting go. I remember being pregnant with Adrian, and having that security knowing how safe he was inside of me. That bond that you have with that little one, the little kicks that only you can feel, the flips and the flops, the stomping on your bladder....I remember despite the joy of the moment of finally getting to hold the baby in my arms, being a little sad knowing that my child would never be so close and so safe inside me again.Knowing that we now have to face all the cruelness in te world. So in a way it was a bitter-sweet moment for me.

Being a mom has taught me so much in the short 3 months that I have been at it. It has taught me that my heart is indeed capable of limitless love. Being a mother to someone requires patience, love, understanding, and the realization that being a mother is not an easy task. You have to be a comforter, a booboo kisser, a tickler, a get the monster out of the closet exterminator, a bug squishier, a chef, a Martha Stewart clone, cool, a personal shopper, a chauffeur, and so many other things. you will cry with them when they have to go to the ER because of high fever or mild asthma. you will change a million diapers, you will wonder when you'll get to use the bathroom alone again.

I believe someone once said that motherhood is the hardest job for which one never gets paid. But I believe that we do get paid. The currency is just a little different. Instead of dollars and cents, we receive hugs and kisses. In place of a bonus or raise, we get a cuddle, or an “I love you.” We don’t have a yearly review. Instead we get that warm fuzzy feeling when our child masters a skill, or does something to make us very proud. Unlike the stock-market, we invest in our children with our time, our teachings, and our love. And the return is ten-fold. The “boss,” or our children, may not notice our hard work. Yet we keep “clocking-in.” Why? Because this is the most important job that we will ever have. We may want to call in sick sometimes. But we won’t get fired. We won’t quit.

I can't wait til my little boy can say those words to me... "i love you mommy"
hayhay i love you baby boy

Unknown Emails

Back to blogging, just proves that shit is again just around the corner.

Has been a long time since I last wrote my heart out and now I can't even find the right words or emotions for the reason why I wanted to write again.

Could be...

Rage? Yeah, I'm in rage. I am not hurt, for hurt is such a weak word, I am angry. I want to explode and let all the anger out. I want the whole world to know that I am so pissed yet I remain quiet. I want to create a scene, a scene that all who'll witness will not forget and the look of rage in my face will be etched in the mind of everyone who'll see. But. I know I shouldn't. I know I should take the high road and be the better person. I know exploding will just cause more harm, more rage, more suspicions than good.

Or may be,

Alone? Yes, I am alone. I am surrounded by the bestest friends in the world but I still can't help but feel alone. Everyone seems to be there for me yet I am not where everyone seems to be. I know I have my little boy but still, I cant help it....at times, i still feel alone..

Or just..

Broken? I definitely am broken. I've been broken a number of times before. Have been repaired. But somehow, once you break no matter how hard you try to mend yourself, no matter who tries to fix you, no matter how long you try to patch and heal the broken pieces of you, you will always be broken and may never be restored to your true form. And, so am I.

And

Damaged? Too deeply damaged. I've been mocked, ridiculed, be-littled and jeered at by people who consider themselves righteous, that I would guess would not even understand a single word in this blog and was not taught the Subject-Verb agreement way back in high school but still, I again remained silent. I've been talked about for things other people doesn't even know of. Painful words have been thrown at me. Words that I know I am not and I could never be. Knowing myself, I could easily fight back for which I have all the right to, yet I didn't. IT"S BECAUSE OF ADDY....BUT calling my son "BASTARD" is a different thing...

May be

Deprived? Deprived by my own moral standards. Deprived of my own happiness. Deprived of doing what I want or even deprived of just wanting it. Deprived of following my heart. Deprived of things that could turn out to be a bridge to happiness, to contentment, to peace of mind.

But still

Hopeful. I know deep down, though the end may still be far away, there would be light at the end of this tunnel. Strong as I may be now, I know, I can still be stronger, I can pick myself up, and though broken, damaged, amd deprived but no longer angry, I have faith that I can be truly happy, of peace and contented.

I know, I have to do this...for me and addy.....