Thursday, June 24, 2010

Projectile Puking

I'm guessing that puking is part of the parenting package. At least for this (referring to me) parent's package.

 I remember when my son was a baby, he would throw up a lot… and I do mean, A LOT!

He even knows when the most opportune throwing up time is (i swear he can induce a barf at will)… such as that one time that we were in a restaurant… he would have a coughing spell that sounds like he was choking even if he was not, then throw up immediately after. And he would do this just as two elderly ladies are ogling him. How lovely!

Another time he chose to throw up at a restaurant, and he did this right before we were about to leave… just when we thought we were going to be spared from embarrassment, he did it, right there, with an audience. The waiter came and had to mop our area suppressing his own urge to barf, meanwhile we were scrounging for all the bills and cash we have so we can at least leave the poor guy a decent tip.

Another “favorite”, was when we went to a buffet and in the middle of our all you can eat dinner, my son decided to entice us with what he had for dinner. In the middle of our meal, of course, we lost our appetite. We cleaned up his puke-mater as much as we can, with the very limited paper towels we had on our table, threw the soiled paper in the trash, and cover the left over mess with the table napkin. We left the restaurant just walking straight to the door not daring to look back. We did leave $30 for whoever was bound to discover the sordid “surprise” we left. How embarrassing!

It was at that time that my husband and I realized that date night would have to be put on hold… at least until Eloi can manage to keep his food down.

I never really understood why he had this affinity for not digesting his food all the way. It baffles me to this day.

And now, enter my little Isabella.

It was understandable that she would puke when she had her NG tube, it was also understandable that she would puke when the food came down too fast in her G tube. And since feeding issues come with her syndorme, her puking was something, shall I say, predicted… something expected. No stress, no judgment, just something accepted as a regular part our everyday life. And since we’ve had all that puking practice in the past, we’ve become, shall I say, (ehem, ehem) experts at this puke business. We made certain that she would always have extra clothes, that we have a roll of paper towel, that we would give her food in parts, and have extra shirts for me, my husband and Eloi packed together with her diapers. We were always armed and ready for the barf battle.

Bring it on!



This afternoon though…. In the comfort and confines of my home, whilst Isabella was sitting on my lap and we were having coo conversations…. I was caught unguarded, and the projectile puke came from out of the blue, shooting from out of her nose and went right into my open mouth!


The physics behind this projectile puking was just amazing! This sort of talent just blew me away… I mean literally… SHE BLEW AWAY ON ME!

(Hahahaha!)

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

So, What Do You Say?

When my son was younger random people would just approach us and comment about how beautiful he is, how his curls make him cuter, etc. He attracted a lot of people. And we weren’t really surprised, he was a very cute baby.

Now, it’s Isabella’s turn. Random people would just come up to us and comment about how her eyes are bright and beautiful, how her lips are perfect, how her cheeks are so round and chubby that you just want to bite it, how she is so cuddly and squeezable, how she is beautiful and stunning and is no doubt a baby “girl”.

Now this is really nothing unusual. You see a baby, you look.

BUT, something was a little different…. Isabella seems to attract more people than Eloi did. She seem to magnet a lot more “oohhs” and “ahhs”. Could it be that she is that beautiful? Or is it because of something else?

When people do see and talk to her and try to get a smile out of her, they tend to ask this one question “ How old is she?” Now, I always find myself pausing before I answer this question (much like how I somehow try to avoid being asked the question “How is the baby?” or “How are you?”)

In that brief pause, this thought runs through my mind, “Do I tell her how old she really is?”

If I tell her that Isabella’s 6 months old, it will ensue a lot of follow up questions, and those follow up questions also give me a feeling of dread.

          Is she a preemie? (No she’s not, she’s full term)

          Why is she sooo tiny? (because her size is syndrome related)

          Is anything wrong with her? (No! Maybe something is wrong
          with you to even ask me that when I DON’T  EVEN KNOW YOU!)

I know, I know… most people mean well and they do get curious. Although, I have to admit that I did find myself wondering if the reason behind Isabella attracting extra curiosity is because of her ‘”look”. I did get to wonder if people are just being polite when they say “she’s beautiful” or if they see it. I am not a big fan of people staring.

The mama bear in me feels very defensive and protective of her little cub.

What do I say? Do I shock them with the response ‘Oh, it’s because she has a syndrome.” And walk away leaving them dumbfounded and marinating in their confused thoughts. Should I tell them that she has this rare syndrome and then proceed with a full blown lecture about WHS? If I do explain, will it result in the much needed “education of the public” about children with special needs? Do I print out brochures and flyers and pack them with me in my diaper bag ready to hand-out when the questions come?

Now, my husband tells them how old she really is, and when they ask why she’s small, he tells them,
“Because she just is.”

How he answers them makes perfect sense doesn’t it? I should be able to make myself confidently blurt out the same response… BUT, after his response people stay and look and stare at the baby and then look at us, as if waiting for a follow up, as if waiting for an explanation on why she’s small… they seem to not be content with “because she just is”. We stand there playing the “staring chicken game”…. And when it gets to the point that it becomes awkward, too awkward, they usually just walk away.

That “waiting for further information”, bothers me. I know it shouldn’t, but it does. I hope that eventually it won’t.

And since it bothers me, I tell people that Isabella is younger than she actually is. The other day this scenario happened…

          Stranger: Oh, tiny baby! How old is she?

          Me: Pause…. She’s 3 months.

          Stranger: 3 months? She’s too small for 3 months. (then stared
          at me as if waiting for an answer)

          Me: Staring…. Just staring… and eventually the stranger just
          walked away.

I realized I can’t pass my daughter for a 3 month old, so I decided to go another month lower and see if that excuse will “fly”. So with the next stranger…

          Stranger: Oh, cute baby! How old is she?

          Me: Pause…. She’s 2 months.
          Stranger: Smiles, stroked the baby's head a little and then
          walked away.

No awkwardness, no staring, no need to be defensive. There is this relief that that response worked out, HOWEVER, there is also this guilty lying feeling that sits in the pit of my stomach. And this tells me that what I’m doing is not quite right. Why else will my conscience bother me, right?

But, how long I can keep this up? Should I continue on with this “lie” (a white lie)? Should I come up with a better and more honest response that will not ensue such awkwardness, that won’t ensue that feeling that I need to explain?

I know, I know, I don’t really owe anybody, especially strangers an explanation, but, What do I say?

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

My SPECIAL Son

Today was the day that I believe my son first noticed that something was not typical of his sister. While he was lying on the sofa playing with Isabella’s feet, he stopped for a bit with this inquiring-curious look on his face and we had this conversation….

Eloi: “Nanay, did something happen to you when Isay was in your tummy?”

Me: “Why do you ask that?” (See, even a 5 year old is asking me the same thing that some people have inappropriately asked or what some cannot bring themselves to ask)

Eloi: “ Because Isay is so small, did something happen to you?”

Me: “No, nothing happened to me when Isay was in my tummy. Isay is just small.”

Eloi: “Did something happen to Isay and that’s why she’s small?”

Me: “Eloi do you remember when I told you that Isay is special? Well that’s one of the things that makes your sister special. She is small because she was made small. She is small much like you were made to have curly hair. She is small because she just is.”

Eloi: “Her feet are always going to be tiny huh?

Me: “They will grow, but they will not be as big as the feet of other children the same age as she is.”

Eloi: I think its cute that Isay has tiny feet.”

Me: “ I think its cute too. I think it makes her sooo special to always have smaller feet.”

Eloi: “I like her feet just this size.”

Me: “I like it that Isay is smaller than everyone else because I get to hold and carry her longer.”

Eloi: Not like me, because I’m already too heavy for you. When I’m bigger will she still be smaller?”

Me: I think so.

Eloi: Then I get to carry her too.

Me: Sure you can and that would be nice.

Eloi: I think I would like that.

Me: You know what I really like right now?

Eloi: What Nanay?”

Me: You.

Eloi: And Isay too.

Me: And your sister too.


Friday, June 04, 2010

I haven't been able to upload pictures of Isabella for quite awhile. My settings were all messed up. (So, thank you Krsity for helping me out! YAY!).

Here's a recent picture of my Eloi and my Isay. =D

Wednesday, June 02, 2010

Letting Go of My "Perfect" Child

Dear Perfect Child,

If you were here you would have been crawling by now. You would have been holding your head up steadily and can manage to sit. Perhaps by now you are already able to expertly roll from side to back, back to side, and from your tummy to your belly up. I would probably need to keep a really close eye on you so that you don’t roll off the bed.

If you were here, you could’ve have been eating semi solid foods and make a big mess at feeding time. You would have already stained a lot of your clothes with the pureed vegetables and fruits. I could have already enjoyed seeing your many different facial expressions from your first discovery of varied textures and tastes.

If you were here, you would have already been touching my face and cry when you do not see me or when I leave each morning for work. You would want for me to carry you a lot and snuggle on my chest, and I will try my very best to not complain about how heavy you’ve been getting.

If you were here, you would be putting everything in your mouth, including your toes. You would have already been exploring toys that light up, move and make music. And this will be amusing for you to watch, even if it can only hold your interest for a brief moment.

If you were here, we would have already had a lot of back and forth coo conversations. I would probably already heard a lot of shrieks, and babbles, and mmmmms. I would have already heard your cute little baby giggle.

If you were here I would have already gone through 2, maybe 3 sets of baby clothes that you have outgrown and you would have been able to wear your little dresses, your cute tights, and have a pretty ribbon on your round bald head. You would also have been drooling all over your cute clothes.

If you were here I would not be feeling this tremendous longing.

But you are not here.

If you were here I would not have the need to write this.

But you are not here.

You are not here because god has chosen me to do a special task. He chose for me to go through a different journey… one that will change me immensely. One that makes me feel pain and loss, in order for me to fully appreciate joy. One that tests the limits of my spirit and strength.

Instead of you, he chose me to have Isabella, because God wanted me to have a better outlook on living. Because he trusts that I am better able to take care of someone “special” instead of someone “perfect”. He wanted me to do this unique task so I can have an extraordinary life. And because of this, I am humbled... and because I am humbled, I am blessed.

And because you are not here, I need to let you go so that I can be a better mom to my daughter. I need to let go of the idea of having you, and as agonizing as this may be, I have to.




... Goodbye my perfect child...




Should you ever wonder though, I wanted to have you. But God had other plans. He had another child that he deemed perfect for me to have.

Love,
Nanay