asukal sa lupa ng mga arabo

I often get a lot of crap from other parents and non-parents for breastfeeding my son beyond one year old. Even at the height of the melamine enriched powdered milk scare, people still find it rational to be critical about breastfeeding beyond the socially acceptable one year old limit. Since I am weary of explaining myself to a group of seemingly deaf critics, I decided that posting a blog from a knowledgeable pediatrician would be a better way to shut their pie hole. The article below was copied from www.parentingweb.com:

I have just read a blog by Tara about a 9 year old boy who beat an 11 month old baby to death. Apparently, that was not news anymore because that was the third time a child beat another younger child to death. Oh, the third one was actually a child who stabbed her babysitter in the chest and apparently to her death just because the baby sitter did not allow him to watch a certain program on television. What a wonderful wonderful world we live in. Even the innocent seems to be bent on causing havoc in our already fucked up world. This is the reason why I never read the newspaper or watch the news on television. I just couldn’t bear to know about the unbelievable horrifying plight of the rest of the world of which I can do nothing but be depressed.

Last July 4 or 5, we came home from our vacation relieved that the whole ordeal was finally over. I never thought that a vacation can be so un-relaxing. But for most of the trip, I found my self shipped from one place to another doing the things which I NEED to do and unable to do the things which I WANT to do. Time was always of the essence and time seemed to be always running out. There were always relatives and friends to schedule for get-togethers and in my pregnant case, doctors to set for appointments. But I discovered after retelling the horror stories to my fellow OFW’s here in  Dubai that I am not alone in unearthing the magical world of OFW vacation. Most of them enjoyed the same level of tension and stress as I did. True, we all spent months and months saving and dreaming about our return home only to find out that the vacation was hardly a dream and short of a nightmare. Of course the fact that my body, after 3 long years of being away, did not adjust immediately to the weather and environment helped not in my anxiety. I found myself sick with cold, cough, fever, UTI and allergies 90% of the time. I thought that if Istayed any longer and continued in my sickly state, I might be condemning my unborn child to a very certain death or at the very least a life of constant afflictions.

So as I walked through the airport terminal of  Dubai  upon my arrival, I almost kissed the ground in my gratefulness. I have never thought in my entire existence here that I would be so happy to return. I, who openly loathed and criticized the idea of being a foreigner in a foreign land, was glad to be back. The terrible journey to my homeland was so nerve-racking that even a self proclaimed patriot as I am was glad to be home in a foreign land. But alas, the reprieve which I thought would be waiting for us in our doorstep was not to be found. 3 days or so after our arrival here, the general manager in Julius’ company announced a very life shattering and shocking news:

“TECORE IS CLOSING!”

To those who might not have guessed, Tecore is the company where Julius works and not some train station or what not. Although we have anticipated the news for quite some time now since the whole down-in-the-drain act was already months in the making, the blow was nonetheless still devastating. More so, since before we undertook our vacation, Julius asked his lying son of bitch General Manager if there was any chance that Tecore might be closing so that if ever we can cancel our trip home and find alternatives instead and that lying son of a bitch gave us his sincerest word that the whole idea was ludicrous. He assured us with a lot of bull crap that he, being a family man himself, has a soft heart for all the other employees who have their families here in Dubai and he would give due warning to prepare everyone for any financial catastrophe.

Well our mistake. We should have smelled the
unmistakable stench of bull crap.

So from our stressful vacation, we found ourselves enmeshed in another stressful situation with only an emotional rest of 3 short days. The panic between Julius and I was very palpable in the air. Although both of us tried not to show and talk about our worry in mutual support of each other, we could feel that each one is sinking to the lowest depths of desperation. Julius, being the man of the house, feels responsible for me and my baby and the weight on his shoulders were too heavy. I, being the pregnant wife, feel frustrated at my inability to help relieve the burden on his shoulders. I couldn’t help him and my pregnant self was part of the problem.

As a response to the impending crisis, Julius passed his resume left and right and charmed every possible person who might be connected to the telecom industry. I on the other hand, applied for him on all the internet agencies available. But despite the fact that there were about a thousand job openings on line and the numerous persons Julius has networked with, we got zero response. Nobody seemed to be hiring or at least, nobody wanted to hire Julius. We were desperate. But when all hope seemed to be gone, a miracle happened and we found them in the most unlikely place.

The source of the unlikely miracle was Bingle and Richard Dayritt. I say unlikely because in the 3 to 4 years of our stay in  Dubai, we have socialized with the husband and wife for more or less ten times only (I’m betting on the less). With a questionable connection between our families, I couldn’t possibly expect them to be actively concerned about our plight. In fact, I didn’t expect them to be concerned at all, active or otherwise. Yet they were. In a casual YM with Bingle, I mentioned in passing, with no other purpose other than to make small conversation and probably to vent some deep seethed anger against all the lying sons of bitches in the world, that Tecore was closing down. In the very same breath, Bingle called and informed her husband and asked him if he knew of any opening. The next day, Richard called my husband and told him about a
company which was luckily looking for a telecom engineer at that very same
time.

Julius immediately passed his resume, got an interview the next week and then an offer letter the next day. This was definitely the fast and the furious of hiring. Julius finally got a job! At long last we were at the end of the very dark tunnel. The relief we felt was so overwhelming, I swear we could have died from all the ecstatic sighing. I cannot express in words my thanks to the husband and wife who I barely socialized for more than ten times in my 3 years in  Dubai. God really works in mysterious ways and sometimes through people you barely knew.

Of course, our trials are far from over. Although at least, I can say we are halfway there. What’s more, I learned a very valuable lesson throughout the whole panic episode. I realized that when one gets caught in the quicksand of life, struggling and panicking is as useful as a life jacket when your plane is crashing in the middle of the  Sahara  Desert or a can of Evian Spritzer in the heart of a forest fire. They just don’t work and would just be a waste of a perfectly good jacket or a very expensive Evian Spritzer. The best you can do when you are sinking is to take a deep breath and stay still. Amazingly, you stop sinking.

So when Julius leaves for work at six in the morning and arrives home at 9 in the evening with a migraine from hell- I stay still.

When his present company does not specify a date when they would sponsor a work visa for Julius even if his allowance date and my allowance date from the immigration has long expired and there is a really big chance that we are already illegal residents in the UAE- I stay still.

When I have to dip into our life savings to spend for expenses which I cannot avoid like my maternity cost, residence visa’s and baby stuff because Julius’ current salary can no longer suffice for these extra costs- I stay still.

When the future looks so uncertain from where I am standing and I have no clear idea where we are heading- I stay still.

And you know what? It really, really, really works.

For the first trimester of my pregnancy, my sister’s string of patience have been tested to its limits. Lucky for me, until now the string is still holding strong. I threw tantrums, I got cranky and grumpy, I became morose but she never ever got upset, at least not for more than a minute. Sometimes when her cup does runneth over, she would be quiet for some time but then after awhile she would check if I really did get distressed. Of course, all she ever got was a cranky response. Being pregnant, I feel that the world owes me their patience and no one has the right to get upset with me thus the ever so cranky response =)

But the mood swings are not the only difficulties my sister had to endure. She had to bear with all my pregnancy symptoms despite the fact that being unmarried and only 23 years old, she should not be expected in anyway to endure such. When food made me vomit, she made sure that I had a magazine to read while I hid inside the bathroom before she eats her dinner. Then she would open all the windows to ensure that all the smell will have another way to go other than up my nose.She would also yell to check if I am still alive while she eats her dinner as fast as she can. Sometimes, she would have to eat amidst the sound of my retching inside the bathroom because despite all her efforts, I could still smell her food. How gross is that right? But she never complained even once about the grossness of my vomitting during her meals.

Then there is the nausea which was so strong that I was more or less comatose. I would lie on the bed for hours and hours. When I do decide to chew on something, I would just throw the wrapper on the floor and wait for my sister to pick it up when she comes home from work. All the stuff would not be where they belong because when I use something, I usually leave it where i last used it and not where I got it. If my place was a mess during my non pregnant days, the place now became a state of disaster every single day. And everyday my sister will come home from work and pick up after my mess without a single peep. Then on sundays, her only rest day for the week, she would spend the whole day cleaning, washing and ironing.

Truly, my pregnancy brought out the best in my sister if not in me. Although she always tell me that after my pregnancy, she would truly make me pay for all her sufferings, I do not believe her even for one second. If she could be nice to me even if the baby is still inside my womb, how much more if the baby is right out there? She would never be able to resist her very first niece or nephew. So to inday, a thousand cheers from me and my baby.

True love tested in the hardest of times paints the most beautiful colors in our life and eventually in our memories. I’ve always thought that I wanted a relationship without a hitch and without a struggle. But after watching Cinderella Man, I have realized that I am the luckiest woman in the world to have a man who have struggled with me through all the difficulties in our relationship simply because he truly and really loves me.  Although he never formally courted me, he fought for our relationship from right about the start and until now. Truly, I am blessed to have found someone like Julius.

I know that my husband was not able to offer me the normal things in a marriage like an actual proposal and a church wedding. For quite some time - in fact for quite a long long time - the mere thought actually grated on my nerves day in and day out. I often wondered if he truly loves me even if he did not think that I’m worthy enough for the whole shibang in the altar. But then I’ve realized that even if Julius did not offer me a formal ceremony to celebrate our union, he actually offered me more - his whole devoted self.

Every time he is in Dubai, he’d make sure that he would be home before 2:30 in the afternoon so that by the time I get home at 3:30, food would be ready on the table. Although his office is ten times farther from our house than my office and he would be tired from all the commute, he would still make it a point to cook meals for the two of us. Even in the mornings when he should be leaving early for his office, he would wake up even extra earlier just to prepare and sometimes even cook my "baon" for the day.

Sometimes I would even wake up just to see him arranging the clothes and shoes which I should be wearing to the office that day. You cannot believe how many times my heart melted  seeing him holding my clothes in a hanger. How many husband would care enough to make sure that you won’t have a problem with your office attire when he himself should be in a bit of a rush? He always thought of me before he thought of himself. Julius is such a good husband even to the point of sainthood.

But what I love the most about my husband is the fact that he never refuses a request for a hug from me no matter how unreasonable the circumstances. I have this llogical need to always have my husband right beside me whenever we are in the same room. Sometimes even if he is very busy replying to urgent emails, he would immediately cuddle with me upon instant request. Although his work is very important to him, he never made me feel less important because he always priotized our cuddling sessions over his work.

I could think of a a hundred, even a thousand reasons why Julius is my one and only Cinderella man. Although I would like to share all of them so that the world would know how lucky I am, no amount of paper or cyberspace would be enough to accomodate all that is my husband. He is truly one of a kind. I often wondered what I did in life to deserve someone like him. But whatever the reasons are, I am only thankful that Julius and I found each other.

Sometimes I wish that the Julius and Criselda love story begun perfectly. But like all great love stories befitting the likes of “Gone with the Wind” and “Wuthering Heights”; our tale fills with every possible drama. You cannot imagine the amount of tears which were shed over the course of our 4 year relationship. The buckets and buckets of tears would have probably solved the long standing drought in Somalia. But amidst all the pain, the hurt and probably the too obvious incompatibility, we managed to survive with flying colors. Truly, love can move mountains.

The very first time I met Julius, he was crying while on the phone with his
ex-girlfriend. I think they just broke up or were probably broken up for a few
months but he was on the phone trying to win her over. From the looks of the
gallons and gallons of tears flowing down his eyes, he was probably not having
any much luck. Gilbert and I were trying to get him out of the office because we were supposed to lock up the place before we left. But every time we managed
to get him out of the gate, he will vanish and be back where he was. Gilbert
and I thought that he was absolutely pesky. I know I should have been more
sympathetic given that Julius was probably drowning from sadness and obviously, tears, but at that time, all I can think about was that I was getting pretty late for my tutorials

All the succeeding interaction with Julius proved to be as unsatisfactory as
the first. If truth be known, I think he was avoiding me like I was some sort
of bubonic plague. Most of his officemates talked to me like a normal person
but with Julius, he seemed to vanish into thin air right after a one word
conversation. I actually thought he was gay and I was beginning to think that
he probably broke up with a he and not a she. Not only was he avoiding me when everybody else was not, but he also likes to read books and he appears to be highly sensitive than most men. Plus he spoke with a girly twang and he so much reminded me of my close closet gay friend. I knew it was only time before he would confide in me that he was indeed a 100% confirmed gay just like how my close closet gay friend did.

Fortunately, he proved me wrong. Underneath the 100% all gay exterior is a 100% all man interior. He just grew up more sensitive and more artistically inclined than most men because he had a non-chauvinistic upbringing. As for why he was constantly avoiding me, I still have no clue up to date. All I know was that, one day, he decided that he wanted to talk to me. I still remember that day when he saw me come into the office in my yellow blouse and super short khaki mini-skirt. I knew that he was finally smitten because Fausto had to forcibly drag Julius out so that he would stop asking me stupid questions of which he probably knew all the answers. Since then, he found ways and means to interact with me and catch my attention.

His very first gift to me was one Tupperware of “aratilis” which were handpicked from his very own back yard. We were still officially friends at that time -friends who constantly communicated with each other through text. As friends, I found the gesture very endearing. Who would have thought of giving a friend one Tupperware of “aratilis” handpicked from his very own back yard? He might as well have brought me a bouquet of flowers handpicked from his own garden. The only thing is he had an “aratilis” tree in his back yard instead of a garden. Then every time he went on a project, he would bring me little gifts and trinkets that he brought from his travels. My most favorite pasalubong from him was the chicken inasal he brought from Bacolod. My sister and Iloved eating it for days despite the fact that he only just gave me one barbecue stick of chicken. Until today, I still call him a cheapskate for having given me only one stick.

I can’t remember if I liked Julius as a boyfriend material right from the very beginning of our acquaintance but I remember that ever since we became friends, I felt safe with him. He felt like home. When I suffered from a bout of food poisoning, I called him to make me feel better. When I got asthma, I asked him to be around. His presence in my life was always calming. I felt at rest with him. I knew, without a doubt, that even if we were only friends for a few weeks, he would not allow anything bad to happen to me. In some ways, I felt like he was a guardian angel sent by God to pick up my broken pieces and to make me whole again.

After a few months of only knowing each other, we became a couple. When I say a few months, I really mean a few months. I think our relationship is what people commonly call a whirlwind romance. We became acquainted around May of 2002 and as official friends on the first of July 2002. Then on the 14^th of September 2002, less than 3 months from the first of July 2002, we became a couple. At that time, the most appropriate months needed for a guy to court a girl should be at least 6 months. So we were in essence, a bit ahead of our times.

But as fast as our “courtship” was, the course of our relationship was even faster. After only a month of being together, we both wanted to get married. Every moment of everyday that we were not together felt like torture. I felt like I couldn’t literally breathe without him and I think that he felt the same way too. Have you ever loved someone so much that being apart seems like the most painful and unnatural thing? Julius and I felt that way towards each other. We wanted to get married and start spending the rest of our lives together immediately. The only problem was that we were both nowhere financially. Julius always told me that if he were a rich man, he would have taken me to the altar even on the third day of our relationship.

I guess in love, even money could be an object. Although at that time, I knew for certain that even if Julius and I can only afford to live underneath a bridge, I would still have been happy. Nothing mattered to me at that time except to be with him. Even if most our dates only cost no more than a 100 pesos, I felt deliriously happy. Since a 100 pesos couldn’t really buy much especially if you include the cost of the fare, we always ended up sharing one meal in Jollibee, Wendy’s, Chowking and Mcdonalds. Sometimes we just settled for a lot of barbecued Isaw for a much a cheaper but filling meal. But honestly, nothing tasted better in my life than those meals which we shared when we both had absolutely nothing except each other.

But I guess God hears prayers after all. We both just wanted a shot in spending the rest of our lives together. We just needed a lifeline to support that dream. Then suddenly, when we were looking at another horizon and when everything seemed hopeless, an opportunity just landed right on top of Julius’ lap. Although we were hoping and praying for that job in the States, Dubai called and told us that there was an opening. You cannot imagine how happy we both were. We felt like we were in dream and it couldn’t possibly be real. How could something you wanted so much be yours finally? Only in fairytales do wishes come true.

We have gone very far from those days of wishful thinking. We now live in a place where wishes can actually come true. Although there are still struggles along the way, I know that come what may, as long as Julius and I love each other, everything is possible.

When I left college halfway through, my only deepest regret was hurting and disappointing my mother. She practically sold her heart and soul just to ensure that we studied in the best schools. I think she never imagined even for a single moment that I, the ever obedient though naughty daughter, will finally lose my brains and sanity then quit college in just a snap of a finger. You cannot imagine how quickly I made a dash out of those doors to walk and run the road less travelled.

In retrospect, I do concede that I was being selfish and rash. I was, after all,  inconsiderate of all my mother’s sacrifices.  If I wanted to rebel and mess up my life, I should have made my move 2 years after, probably on the day right after my graduation. I should have at least allowed the completion of my mother’s dream. But two years seemed like a lifetime to someone who just lived 20 years of existence. I couldn’t wait. I am just so sorry that in my impatience, I have caused a lot of unnecessary heartache for my mother.

But all my mother’s feeling aside, I do not regret having taken that jump. For one awe inspiring moment in my life, I made a choice to take a risk even if I do not know where the road will take me. Life is an adventure and we should live it like one. What is the point of walking a path where you know for certain what lies in the end? Why still walk it? Rather pointless in my opinion since everybody dies in the end anyway. Most people never take the high jump because they want a secure future. But honey, nothing on earth can ever secure you from your inevitable death.

My point is, playing your life safely and unsafely leads to the same conclusion. The only difference would be the road you choose towards that conclusion. If the path lined with apples lead to the same house as the path which is lined with apples, cranberries, peaches and beautiful flowers, why then should you punish yourself to see only apples? We are sometimes afraid to see more of life because of those darn apples.

Although I must confess that the life of adventure is not only filled with roses but also with thorns. When I took that jump, it was a long way down, approximately 3 years, before I hit rock bottom. But the adrenaline rush was so worth it. As you feel the wind rushing through you face, you feel that life is full of so much possibilities. Anything can happen. Life can happen. Plus, you’d never know who or what you will find when you have reached the ground.

So take that fall and throw away those darn apples.

My resignation has been formally accepted by my company. From this date on, there is no more turning back. Whatever opportunities that could have been if I have taken that path are now all down the drain. Suprisingly, with all that I have lost, I felt completely calm, almost relieved. True, I did cry a lot while I was typing and sending my resignation letter. But then again, who would not cry with such a big loss anyway? The more important thing is that after I have shed my last tears, I felt no regret but a growing sense of happiness that I am finally going to have a baby.

I am now excited whether I am going to have a girl or a boy. Of course his or her gender would not matter since he or she is going to be mine. I am now excited to see his or her first smile or just to see him or her for the first time. I am now excited to change his or her diapers even if poo grosses me out big time. I am now excited to teach him or her first words. I will make sure of course that he or she knows the word mama first before papa =) I am now excited to play with him or her and to bring him or her to the beach or the park. Notice that I am using a lot of him or her because I don’t want the baby to feel left out in case he or she turns out to be the one or the other.

Now that I no longer feel sad and desperate about being pregnant, I now know for certain that I made the right decision to leave work. Before I resigned, I always felt the pregnancy was in the way of my career advancement. I saw it more of a hurdle rather than a blessing. I devised ways and strategies on how I am going to overcome this "hardship" so that I might be able to continue my employment. It was the overwhelming idea of balancing motherhood and career that buried all my love for my baby. Can you actually believe that I felt more happy about the news of my promotion than my pregnancy? In fact from a happiness scale of 1 to 10, 11 would be for the promotion and  -11 would be for the pregnancy.

So how unnatural right? In fact, how evil. Even cats and dogs love their pregnancy and children. So I am glad, that with my resignation, I am now able to transcend all my negative emotions and hopefully give good motherhood a chance. Of course, a little part of me, a tiny miniscule part, feel anxious that I might not be able to give everything to my children. We won’t be the big time shot parents who can provide all of life’s luxuries at the snap of a finger. We would have to be parents who will have to compromise and choose.

But then again is that so bad? Julius and I grew up with practically nothing and I can honestly say that we both turned out more than okay. True, we have plenty of emotional baggages and a thousand chips on our shoulder, but then again who doesn’t? Even those children who have every material thing imaginable have emotional baggages and chips on their shoulders. But what I am trying to say is, hardship builds character and cultivates  creativity plus innovation and imagination.

Not having everything can either force you to tough it out (thus building character) or find alternatives that are within reach (thus cultivating creativity, innovation and imagination). Take for example children whose parents can’t afford to buy them toys. They either have to accept the fact that their parents cannot  buy them toys or they can search their immediate surroundings and look for something which they can fashion as a substititute for the real thing. Hence, the invention of empty tin cans as telephones or cars or as tools for games. Or leaves as china plates and cups and saucers.

Of course I will still try my best for my children not to become as poor as mice. But if ever all my efforts failed  and my family ended up dirt poor, it is not the end of the world. In fact it might even be a blessing in disguise.

Here is an article by Bo Sanchez which shares practically the same spirit as this blog. I hope you will like it as much as I did.

I Love Rubber Bands
By Bo Sanchez

…home.

Riddle me this:Parents always want what is best for their children but who could exactly define the meaning of best? Most parents are well intentioned and does provide what they think would be best for their children only to realize later on that they failed. Proof of the matter would be the numerous people I’ve known in the course of my life who have more than one bone to pick with their parents. Their parents didn’t spend too much time with them. Their parents were lazy bums who did not prefer a career but instead opted to stay with them at home so they didn’t have much money to spend on anything. Their parents favoured their other siblings. Their parents didn’t allow them to breathe. Their parents didn’t allow them to choose.Their parents were too strict. Their parents were not affectionate.etc.etc.etc.etc. The list is absolutely endless. And those are just the children of responsible parents.

Now that I’m about to become a mother, the voices of these people echo in my head. I too want the best for my baby but how am I suppose to know what is best for him or her? If I define the meaning of best wrongly, I too will end up with disgruntled children. Worse, I could possible ruin their lives and push them towards wrong. Disgruntled I could live with but a fucked up life is another matter altogether. I would forever live with the guilt that my childs undoing was totally my fault. So I must define best as early as now or risk being the worse parent of all time.

Time or money? Obviously people will say that time is more important to children than money will ever be. But how about those children who will not be able to afford to go to good schools because only one of their parents works and the other one stays at home? You might have given them all the time in the world but how about the advantage to succeed in life? Because their education is less superior than the education of their peers, they will be doomed to be disadvantaged all through out their career.

What about a house over their head in a nice neighborhood? Would you be able to afford one with only one parent working? What about their clothes? Or their food? You would have to compromise on all of those because you have more time and no money. Of course you will also be robbing them of life experiences like going to disneyland or going to thailand or rome because these life experiences will not fit the budget. How about their 18th birthday or any other ordinary birthday? How will you celebrate these occasions with only a few coins in your pocket?

In the case of having children, money is not completely evil if you take the time to think about it. Money would provide so many things which would be essential to raising them. Although money can’t buy love but love can’t buy food either. So in choosing between money and time, the answer is not completely black and white. Money cannot be totally ruled out of the picture.

Time is obviously important because children need their parents. I cannot elaborate more because the reasons are more than obvious. You have to be there to hug them, read to them, play with them, dream with them, learn with them. The time you spent with them will help them form their characters. I am not saying that your children will automatically become good people just because you were available 100% of the time, but the odds will be in your favour.

So time or money? Honestly, I do not know. Either way, I will lose. And as more options on what defines best present itself to me, I know that I will be just as confused as I am right now. Unfortunately, parenting is always a grey area. I believe if somebody taught the course in college, you will still not be prepared to decide and define your own kind of parenthood. I guess parenting is a learning process where errors are inevitable.

I guess no matter how much a person plans her life, so many things will get in the way that her well planned life will always be a suprise. I never planned to be pregnant at this point in my life. The plan was getting pregnant when I’m about 28 years old and only after Julius and I get married in the church. Julius was suppose to be at my side throughout the whole pregnancy with his new job which does not require him to travel and be gone for 2 to 3 months.

But blast the dream and let’s get on with the reality. I am 25 year old pregnant woman, civilly wedded, with a husband who just left for africa to be gone for 3 long months. I do not want to hate where I am right now but I do. They tell you that right before your death, your life flashes right before you. But I think pregnancy does the same thing too. All I can think about from the time I discovered that I was pregnant until date are the things which I have never done and will probably never do. All I can think about is how my life is finally over when, ironically, it has never even begun.

I will never be a salsa expert or whatever kind of Ballroom dancing expert. I will never be able to travel to Spain or anywhere else. I will never be able to go out with my friends on an all-expense-paid-by-me-vacation-extravaganza.  I will never be able to  trim  down to a perfectly toned body which will be perfect for wearing a sexy two piece swimsuit.  I will never be able to attend a late night  cool party. I will never be able to study and get a degree. And worst of all, I will never have my church wedding.

From now on, I should only be a devoted mother who should think of nothing else except her child. My dreams can no longer exist except as a secondary alternative to all those dreams which should be all about my child. I should now be a self sacrificing person who lives to the highest standard of morality. I cannot be tired. I cannot have whims or desires. I cannot not even have needs. I should just be a mother who live only for her child.

I can only think of my pregnancy as the end of all things and not as a wonderful beginning. I am the worse mother of all time. What is wrong with me? Why am I not happy? I feel like somebody is stealing my life right before my very eyes. I feel like somebody has pushed a boulder off  a cliff to fall right on top of me. My world is closing in and I cannot breathe. And to think that when I was a little kid, I promised myself that I would be a better mother than those before me. I swore that I would be the coolest mom.

But I guess I was wrong.