where: st. patrick's hospital + palacio de lanting
when: february 5-8 2010
who: jaiskizzy (big daddy), jeeanfoxy (beautiful mommy), the world's greatest parents, parents-in-law, relatives and friends, the super doctor team hyperforce, single-serving nurses
why: cuteness equilibrium
day1/friday/february5: the new equation
400pm: it has been decided that jeean shall undergo cesarean section delivery the following day so all the bags of necessities that were starting to accumulate dust in the living room are finally loaded for transport. my mom, our househelp and i take the pregnant goddess to the hospital for mortals.
500pm: after squeezing the car to the tightest parking spot i have ever encountered, i carry our stuff (looking like a guy on a 1-year vacation all by himself) and head straight to 221, the room reserved for us, where i spend an awkward moment of silence and stares with two maintenance dudes. and then i receive the 5-second late text message that jeean and her mother-in-law are in the admitting office. anyways, i dont hate paperwork, paperwork hates me and i am very thankful that i have a wife to handle the sheetflow with her excellent penwomanship. glad i dont have to struggle with providing the requested information in hieroglyphics.
600pm: we hold fort in 221 and chill, literally because the air-conditioner seems like it was manufactured by eskimos. i am appointed legman and my first errand is to buy dinner: the infamous pulang pansit. (i accompanied the local pasta with some grilled pork, chicken and hotdog and proudly but silently beat the vendor's calculator in purchase computation). mom-in-law, my dad and sibs shortly arrive with their comestible contributions.
1000pm: my co-producer and i have the room to ourselves. the tv's on as background score to our conversation in dim. the sandman is out on a break, allowing us to talk about our daughter-to-be, how our relationship's tumultuous beginning segued into an awesome knot-tying and is now a page away from a new chapter entitled parenthood. finally, after nine months of pain and pee, clinic and food trips, kicks and hiccups, tears and cheers, and waiting and wailing, our wonderchild, our cherubic aesthete, our little cuddler, the amalgam of the best of our dna is about to exit the void and bombard our lives with immeasurable brighthappycuteawesomeness.
1100pm: the enceinte enchantress is asleep. her mondobizarro monsterhero is wide awake, lost in reverie. soon, his palpebrae superior and inferior reunite for the time being...
day2/saturday/february6: do babies dream of electric lambs?
600am: i am bathing diagonally in the narrow shower space. the plumbers must be eskimos as well because the water is goosebumpin' cold. cleansed, i put on my pink big daddy shirt (because im into that kind of shit, so what). after enjoying her warm water wash, jeean is dextrosed up by a nurse who is pregnant as well.
700am: the world's prettiest pregnant person is on a wheelchair. she is smiling but there is an apparent and understandable trepidation on her face. our mothers join the hallway parade toward the operating room. i remember many hospital scenes in movies where the gurney is pushed into the double doors and as they close, the leads have enough slow-mo time moment to stare at each other and wish for an oscar award. unless it's one where the significant other gets to be at patient's side but as much as i want to be with her the whole time like that, spousal support is prohibited inside. a while later, i return to the operating room entrance to give our digital camera to my sister who is a doctor and has a backstage pass.
730am: my psp reads game over for the nth time as i cant concentrate enough to advance through the game. i am number-twoing by the way, big time. it's as if all the excitement, worry and bonheur had been blendered together and turned into unstoppable poop. i then hear my doctorsister enter and bring the good news. my mom and mom-in-law race each other to see their first granddaughter while the baby's father struggles through his excremental ordeal. once done, he who sometimes enjoys referring to himself in the third person cleans himself up in haste.
800am: minitears fight for freedom but i impede their escape. flanked by two happy women on the verge of tears themselves, i am looking at a beautiful sleeping baby girl with full red lips and chubby cheeks wrapped in cloth. she is iaine sivela feona and she is my daughter and i am the happiest newfather that ever breathed. imagine all the books you want to read, all the dvds you want to watch, all the chocolate you want to eat, everything that can make you glad to be alive, imagine all are yours for free, for the rest of your life, that feeling is probably just half an atom of how it feels to see your child for the first time. i am speechless (as i am now, typing this) for the word that can exactly define the feeling has yet to exist. the only coherent thing to come out of my mouth was "hello, iaine."
830am: iaine's nascent pictures are already reaping comments on facebook. i am walking to the drugstore to buy our baby's milk. the minitears that demanded release? out they go, now that i am alone.
1100am: newmom returns to 221 half-conscious, in pain. she stays in rest mode as congratulators start coming in batches. each batch goes to the nursery to take a peep at iaine and i always tag along just to see her again. most of the time, the little cuddler is asleep but there are a few times she's crying in high pitch, displaying her singing prowess which she inherited from her mother. these visits sans physical contact are nice but not enough. i want to hold iaine real bad. jeean soon regains consciousness but she is not allowed to eat solids until she has passed gas. whenever everyone's eating, i don't so that jeean doesn't feel left out.
100pm: in a hole on the ground near our house, i put books, papers, pens and one of my drumsticks together with iaine's placenta as told by the elder believers. no harm in obliging.
day3/sunday/february7: this too shall pass
1200pm: with the catheter off, i escort my co-creator to the bathroom to take a leak. this is the part of motherhood i never had any idea of. i thought that after the nine-month challenge and the delivery drama, she'd be pirouetting by now. instead, it's a painful piss. she holds on to me and i wish i was the one in pain instead. a couple more trips to the toilet seat and her urinal anguish subsides to tolerable state.
200pm: jeean is recovering real quick. she can walk with minimal assistance. she's on a soft food diet, getting tired of the flavorless porridge. still no fart. (i cant believe i am actually waiting for my wife to fart). the continuous flow of visitors help hasten her recuperation. some flatulence and feces later, the goddess of all things cute and sexy is munching on mangoes.
900pm: our ob-gyne/wedding sponsor drops by to change jeean's gauze dressing and throw some great news: we can go home the next day. the bikini cut looks fine, nigh-invisible if not for the small stitches on the sides.
day4/monday/february8: homeward-bound
900am: the stuff we came in with has doubled and i am getting myself a tan and workout carrying all of it to the family car parked two blocks away. we're just waiting for the starter gun to fire so we can go and live our new life as a family of three independent of hospital control.
1000am: my optical floodgates open wide at the sight of iaine on the bed in front of me with no glass window between us. i used to dread this moment because movie scenes of a child being born kind make me tear up a bit and i was pretty sure that when i experience that moment it would be like all my nose hairs have been pulled out for everyone to see. but now i dont mind the onlookers seeing this hardened meat of a man rendered tender by his dreamy, dreaming daughter. let's go home, sweetheart.
1100am: my sisdoc and i are stuck in motionless car queue. we had taken a shortcut to steer clear of the regular midday traffic jam but thanks to the arrival of president darkmole evildwarf, we stumble upon roadblock after roadblock until we're back to square one of the route we've previously avoided. jeean and iaine are in separate vehicle, several gearshifts behind.
1200pm: home, sweetheart, home...
p.s. happy one-month, iaine...
when: february 5-8 2010
who: jaiskizzy (big daddy), jeeanfoxy (beautiful mommy), the world's greatest parents, parents-in-law, relatives and friends, the super doctor team hyperforce, single-serving nurses
why: cuteness equilibrium
day1/friday/february5: the new equation
400pm: it has been decided that jeean shall undergo cesarean section delivery the following day so all the bags of necessities that were starting to accumulate dust in the living room are finally loaded for transport. my mom, our househelp and i take the pregnant goddess to the hospital for mortals.
500pm: after squeezing the car to the tightest parking spot i have ever encountered, i carry our stuff (looking like a guy on a 1-year vacation all by himself) and head straight to 221, the room reserved for us, where i spend an awkward moment of silence and stares with two maintenance dudes. and then i receive the 5-second late text message that jeean and her mother-in-law are in the admitting office. anyways, i dont hate paperwork, paperwork hates me and i am very thankful that i have a wife to handle the sheetflow with her excellent penwomanship. glad i dont have to struggle with providing the requested information in hieroglyphics.
600pm: we hold fort in 221 and chill, literally because the air-conditioner seems like it was manufactured by eskimos. i am appointed legman and my first errand is to buy dinner: the infamous pulang pansit. (i accompanied the local pasta with some grilled pork, chicken and hotdog and proudly but silently beat the vendor's calculator in purchase computation). mom-in-law, my dad and sibs shortly arrive with their comestible contributions.
1000pm: my co-producer and i have the room to ourselves. the tv's on as background score to our conversation in dim. the sandman is out on a break, allowing us to talk about our daughter-to-be, how our relationship's tumultuous beginning segued into an awesome knot-tying and is now a page away from a new chapter entitled parenthood. finally, after nine months of pain and pee, clinic and food trips, kicks and hiccups, tears and cheers, and waiting and wailing, our wonderchild, our cherubic aesthete, our little cuddler, the amalgam of the best of our dna is about to exit the void and bombard our lives with immeasurable brighthappycuteawesomeness.
1100pm: the enceinte enchantress is asleep. her mondobizarro monsterhero is wide awake, lost in reverie. soon, his palpebrae superior and inferior reunite for the time being...
day2/saturday/february6: do babies dream of electric lambs?
600am: i am bathing diagonally in the narrow shower space. the plumbers must be eskimos as well because the water is goosebumpin' cold. cleansed, i put on my pink big daddy shirt (because im into that kind of shit, so what). after enjoying her warm water wash, jeean is dextrosed up by a nurse who is pregnant as well.
700am: the world's prettiest pregnant person is on a wheelchair. she is smiling but there is an apparent and understandable trepidation on her face. our mothers join the hallway parade toward the operating room. i remember many hospital scenes in movies where the gurney is pushed into the double doors and as they close, the leads have enough slow-mo time moment to stare at each other and wish for an oscar award. unless it's one where the significant other gets to be at patient's side but as much as i want to be with her the whole time like that, spousal support is prohibited inside. a while later, i return to the operating room entrance to give our digital camera to my sister who is a doctor and has a backstage pass.
730am: my psp reads game over for the nth time as i cant concentrate enough to advance through the game. i am number-twoing by the way, big time. it's as if all the excitement, worry and bonheur had been blendered together and turned into unstoppable poop. i then hear my doctorsister enter and bring the good news. my mom and mom-in-law race each other to see their first granddaughter while the baby's father struggles through his excremental ordeal. once done, he who sometimes enjoys referring to himself in the third person cleans himself up in haste.
800am: minitears fight for freedom but i impede their escape. flanked by two happy women on the verge of tears themselves, i am looking at a beautiful sleeping baby girl with full red lips and chubby cheeks wrapped in cloth. she is iaine sivela feona and she is my daughter and i am the happiest newfather that ever breathed. imagine all the books you want to read, all the dvds you want to watch, all the chocolate you want to eat, everything that can make you glad to be alive, imagine all are yours for free, for the rest of your life, that feeling is probably just half an atom of how it feels to see your child for the first time. i am speechless (as i am now, typing this) for the word that can exactly define the feeling has yet to exist. the only coherent thing to come out of my mouth was "hello, iaine."
830am: iaine's nascent pictures are already reaping comments on facebook. i am walking to the drugstore to buy our baby's milk. the minitears that demanded release? out they go, now that i am alone.
1100am: newmom returns to 221 half-conscious, in pain. she stays in rest mode as congratulators start coming in batches. each batch goes to the nursery to take a peep at iaine and i always tag along just to see her again. most of the time, the little cuddler is asleep but there are a few times she's crying in high pitch, displaying her singing prowess which she inherited from her mother. these visits sans physical contact are nice but not enough. i want to hold iaine real bad. jeean soon regains consciousness but she is not allowed to eat solids until she has passed gas. whenever everyone's eating, i don't so that jeean doesn't feel left out.
100pm: in a hole on the ground near our house, i put books, papers, pens and one of my drumsticks together with iaine's placenta as told by the elder believers. no harm in obliging.
day3/sunday/february7: this too shall pass
1200pm: with the catheter off, i escort my co-creator to the bathroom to take a leak. this is the part of motherhood i never had any idea of. i thought that after the nine-month challenge and the delivery drama, she'd be pirouetting by now. instead, it's a painful piss. she holds on to me and i wish i was the one in pain instead. a couple more trips to the toilet seat and her urinal anguish subsides to tolerable state.
200pm: jeean is recovering real quick. she can walk with minimal assistance. she's on a soft food diet, getting tired of the flavorless porridge. still no fart. (i cant believe i am actually waiting for my wife to fart). the continuous flow of visitors help hasten her recuperation. some flatulence and feces later, the goddess of all things cute and sexy is munching on mangoes.
900pm: our ob-gyne/wedding sponsor drops by to change jeean's gauze dressing and throw some great news: we can go home the next day. the bikini cut looks fine, nigh-invisible if not for the small stitches on the sides.
day4/monday/february8: homeward-bound
900am: the stuff we came in with has doubled and i am getting myself a tan and workout carrying all of it to the family car parked two blocks away. we're just waiting for the starter gun to fire so we can go and live our new life as a family of three independent of hospital control.
1000am: my optical floodgates open wide at the sight of iaine on the bed in front of me with no glass window between us. i used to dread this moment because movie scenes of a child being born kind make me tear up a bit and i was pretty sure that when i experience that moment it would be like all my nose hairs have been pulled out for everyone to see. but now i dont mind the onlookers seeing this hardened meat of a man rendered tender by his dreamy, dreaming daughter. let's go home, sweetheart.
1100am: my sisdoc and i are stuck in motionless car queue. we had taken a shortcut to steer clear of the regular midday traffic jam but thanks to the arrival of president darkmole evildwarf, we stumble upon roadblock after roadblock until we're back to square one of the route we've previously avoided. jeean and iaine are in separate vehicle, several gearshifts behind.
1200pm: home, sweetheart, home...
p.s. happy one-month, iaine...
6 comments:
prolific writer ang new daddy. =)
every word best describes his endearing love to lovely wife, jeeann and precious baby, iaine.
PRICELESS!!!
congratulations, Jai and Jeean! Can't wait to see Iaine in person. :D
Welcome..to..the sweet..and challenging..world ! (From your happy "Super Grand Dad"...from Vietnam(Ho Chi Minh City)...! We Luv..U..GOD BLESS YOU ,Mom and Pa.....our sweet Feona !! (from: Daddy Freddie)...
tita: thanks po sa pagbasa. kulang pa po ito. mahirap po isalin sa salita ang tunay at eksaktong pakiramdam ng pagiging ama.
ivy: salamat. punta kayo ni ninang tosca dito!
daddy: thank you po. ingat po kayo dyan lagi.
flying congratulations!!!:)))
one month na kagad? hala, magkaka-boyfriend na yan. hehe:) congrats:)
congrats nga pala!!
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