“Before I had my child, I thought I knew all the boundaries of myself, that I understood the limits of my heart. It’s extraordinary to have all those limits thrown out, to realize your love is inexhaustible.” — Uma Thurman
So, I'm 7 months and half in my second pregnancy now.
And that has been a crazy roller-coaster. I guess that's why I have been so private about it.
First of all, it was not planned. At least, not this year. So, at first, I literally freaked out thinking it was too early, not prepared. I was looking at Alia, thinking she was still so small.
But thanks to my awesome husband who reassured me we will always find a way, i started seeing all the good sides of it: sure, most of my friends already have the second one, so it's nice if our second one is not too far apart. They will grow up together, like our first ones did.
Plus I always said I will have my two kids before 30 and I got pregnant the second time around on my 29th year. So, the universe remembered what I wanted.
And, yes, Alia and our second one won't be too far apart as well. So it's nice for them.
Plus, let's face it, i'll be done with pregnancy and diapers faster this way!
Yes, I always wanted two kids, maybe 2 years apart. But once I had Alia, I had this fear: how can you possibly love more than one human being so much, unconditionally, deeply? How can your heart get split in two?
Now, I understand. Your heart doesn't split. Your love for one doesn't shrink.
Your heart gets bigger. It expand. It grows.
After eight weeks of morning sickness, being on my knees in front of the toilets every single day, laying on my couch feeling nauseous every second of the day, not being able to smell or eat or move much, I went to France.
I got blessed that morning sickness stopped for a few days, allowing me to take my three planes without having to run to the toilets onboard. I was alone with Alia, on a night flight. That was my biggest worry. But everything went fine. We arrived in France: I had lost a few kilos and had a big deficit of iron. It made me look like a gothic teenager more than a blooming mother-to-be.
When finally, my appetite slowly came back, we found out I had Toxoplasmosis. This silly bacteria you get from cats, unwashed vegetable and fruits or uncooked meat. Silly because, if you are not pregnant, this bacteria is nothing. You get it, you probably won't even notice, you are immune, end of the story. But if you are pregnant, real damages can be passed onto your baby's brain and eyes.
In the Philippines, it's not a common thing. So, they don't test you for it. In Europe, it is. The test is mandatory in France when you are expecting.
Normally, if you get it while you are pregnant, they will give you antibiotics until the end of your pregnancy to protect your baby. In my case, we had no idea when I contracted it. Therefore, we didn't know the risks the baby could be contaminated already.
As a prevention, I started to take some antibiotics. And we ran some tests to date the bacteria. And I had to change our tickets and stay one more month in France.
There was three scenarios laying in front of me.
Either I had it before getting pregnant, and our baby was safe.
Or I had it just when I arrived in France, and I would continue my antibiotics treatments.
The third one kept me awaken a few nights. If I had it during my three first months and the baby's brain was contaminated, I could do a amnio-synthesis to check the baby. Then I could have an IRM made a few months later and see the damages on the baby's brain. In France, you can choose to have a medical abortion at any time, in the worst cases. Do I need to say more?
We spent a month waiting for all the results. A month away from Daddy-Yo, freaking out alone in Sri Lanka. A month not saying to Alia she may (or may not) have a little sister in a few months. A month of not knowing if my baby was ok.
Until the news came: I got the toxoplasmosis right before I got pregnant. Our daughter was safe.
We found a name for her, of course. Gaia Mayari. Gaia: Earth, City of Light. Mayari: Goddess of the Moon in the Tagalog Mythology. A strong name for a strong girl.
Now, Daddy-Yo is still working in Sri-Lanka, missing his girls as much as we miss him. We got to see him for ten days for my 30th birthday. That was heaven!
Being by myself, pregnant and caring for a 2 and a half year-old is a roller-coaster.
It taught me I am strong. It taught me I am weak. It taught me I always need to improve my patience. It taught me that my daughter, Alia, is an amazing human being. Even more than I thought she was (and I thought she was pretty damn amazing already, believe me!)
She was the one stroking my hair and cheek while I was vomiting in the toilets. She was the one bringing water to me. She is the one asking if my tummy is "ouchy" and if "baby inside" is ok. She is the one hugging me out of nowhere while we are eating dinner. And kissing me in the morning to wake me up. And sleeping on my shoulder at night.
Very soon, Daddy Yo will be home and we will be a family again. Actually we never stopped being one. Being away from him so long taught me that when you find the one, even though you fight and argue sometimes, distance only makes you stronger.
So, I'm 7 months and half in my second pregnancy now.
And that has been a crazy roller-coaster. I guess that's why I have been so private about it.
First of all, it was not planned. At least, not this year. So, at first, I literally freaked out thinking it was too early, not prepared. I was looking at Alia, thinking she was still so small.
 |
| Alia introducing her sister Gaia Mayari! |
Plus I always said I will have my two kids before 30 and I got pregnant the second time around on my 29th year. So, the universe remembered what I wanted.
And, yes, Alia and our second one won't be too far apart as well. So it's nice for them.
Plus, let's face it, i'll be done with pregnancy and diapers faster this way!
Yes, I always wanted two kids, maybe 2 years apart. But once I had Alia, I had this fear: how can you possibly love more than one human being so much, unconditionally, deeply? How can your heart get split in two?
Now, I understand. Your heart doesn't split. Your love for one doesn't shrink.
Your heart gets bigger. It expand. It grows.
After eight weeks of morning sickness, being on my knees in front of the toilets every single day, laying on my couch feeling nauseous every second of the day, not being able to smell or eat or move much, I went to France.
I got blessed that morning sickness stopped for a few days, allowing me to take my three planes without having to run to the toilets onboard. I was alone with Alia, on a night flight. That was my biggest worry. But everything went fine. We arrived in France: I had lost a few kilos and had a big deficit of iron. It made me look like a gothic teenager more than a blooming mother-to-be.
When finally, my appetite slowly came back, we found out I had Toxoplasmosis. This silly bacteria you get from cats, unwashed vegetable and fruits or uncooked meat. Silly because, if you are not pregnant, this bacteria is nothing. You get it, you probably won't even notice, you are immune, end of the story. But if you are pregnant, real damages can be passed onto your baby's brain and eyes.
In the Philippines, it's not a common thing. So, they don't test you for it. In Europe, it is. The test is mandatory in France when you are expecting.
Normally, if you get it while you are pregnant, they will give you antibiotics until the end of your pregnancy to protect your baby. In my case, we had no idea when I contracted it. Therefore, we didn't know the risks the baby could be contaminated already.
As a prevention, I started to take some antibiotics. And we ran some tests to date the bacteria. And I had to change our tickets and stay one more month in France.
There was three scenarios laying in front of me.
Either I had it before getting pregnant, and our baby was safe.
Or I had it just when I arrived in France, and I would continue my antibiotics treatments.
The third one kept me awaken a few nights. If I had it during my three first months and the baby's brain was contaminated, I could do a amnio-synthesis to check the baby. Then I could have an IRM made a few months later and see the damages on the baby's brain. In France, you can choose to have a medical abortion at any time, in the worst cases. Do I need to say more?
We spent a month waiting for all the results. A month away from Daddy-Yo, freaking out alone in Sri Lanka. A month not saying to Alia she may (or may not) have a little sister in a few months. A month of not knowing if my baby was ok.
Until the news came: I got the toxoplasmosis right before I got pregnant. Our daughter was safe.
We found a name for her, of course. Gaia Mayari. Gaia: Earth, City of Light. Mayari: Goddess of the Moon in the Tagalog Mythology. A strong name for a strong girl.
Now, Daddy-Yo is still working in Sri-Lanka, missing his girls as much as we miss him. We got to see him for ten days for my 30th birthday. That was heaven!
 |
| Small celebration with Island family |
Being by myself, pregnant and caring for a 2 and a half year-old is a roller-coaster.
It taught me I am strong. It taught me I am weak. It taught me I always need to improve my patience. It taught me that my daughter, Alia, is an amazing human being. Even more than I thought she was (and I thought she was pretty damn amazing already, believe me!)
She was the one stroking my hair and cheek while I was vomiting in the toilets. She was the one bringing water to me. She is the one asking if my tummy is "ouchy" and if "baby inside" is ok. She is the one hugging me out of nowhere while we are eating dinner. And kissing me in the morning to wake me up. And sleeping on my shoulder at night.
Very soon, Daddy Yo will be home and we will be a family again. Actually we never stopped being one. Being away from him so long taught me that when you find the one, even though you fight and argue sometimes, distance only makes you stronger.
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