My Mahal, Luce's Tatta
(Note: I wrote this piece last July 2004 but missed posting it. Now that I am reviving Luce's blog, it seems right to include it here before I post new pieces. Luce loves her Tatta so much, much more than anybody else, including me. It is a fact I have come to accept.)
I am never short of memories of and with my husband, Rolly. Ever since he entered my life, it has been full of snapshots of memorable events, most of which had been life-changing.
The most memorable one, however, stands out for two reasons: it is quite recent, and I wasn't there to witness it.
Last June 29, my husband and I brought our baby, Luce Domini, to her doctor since she has had coughs and fever since the day before. I then left them together, with Luce not her usual bubbly self. Later that day, I received a text message from Rolly, saying that he had Luce admitted to the hospital. Being the mother that I am, I immediately called him, wanting the full details. And full details my husband gave me!
He was giving Luce a sponge bath, my husband said, when our daughter suddenly shivered and rolled-over her eyes, with her lips and face turning blue. Rolly immediately brought Luce out of our room, washing her nape with tap water, while requesting for a tricycle pronto. All the while, I learned later from housemates, he was saying, "Luce, huwag naman, huwag naman."
At the hospital, Luce was immediately attended to. There was my daughter, whose fever the doctor and nurses tried to bring down, and my husband, who was being looked at curiously by the staff. It was a dramatic sequence worthy of being included in E.R., the hospital drama on TV. My baby turned out okay, and it was only then when my husband realized how he was: barefoot and wearing his house clothes. No wonder people were looking at him.
I laughed when he told me this. (Of course, I already had the temerity to laugh since my baby's condition was already stable at that time.) So very Rolly, so much his style of fatherhood to our Luce: raw, unpretentious, no frills, to the point. He did not care how he looked, what mattered most was that our baby's condition be stabilized the soonest possible time.
Luce is really a strong force in our relationship. My other treasured memory happened 10 months and two days before the above incident. I had just given birth to Luce two days before (a month and four days before my due date), and we are hoping to go home together the following day. Rolly and I were left alone in my room, with Luce staying at the nursery. An hour or so earlier, I held our baby for the first time in my arms. Luce seemed so small, weighing just 2.0 kgs. I cried as I hugged her, with my mother and husband looking at us inside the nursery.
Later, I was to share the feeling with Rolly. I was so overwhelmed with our baby, and so was he, although he had not had the privilege to hold her yet. That night was a landmark night in our marriage.
Our childbirth experience had been something for the books. I say "our" even if childbirth is a woman's biological role, for my husband had been with me all throughout: from the first ultrasound confirming my pregnancy, to my monthly prenatal visits to my doctor, to the time when I had to have bedrest due to low amniotic fluid level, to the time I had to be hospitalized for rehydration, to the time I had to deliver via cesarean operation. Too bad he was not with me inside the operating room.
That landmark night, my husband and I bonded together, really bonded together, opening our hearts to one another. It was to be our last night together as husband and wife alone; for the next night and the nights after that, we have also become father and mother to our daughter, Luce Domini.
A lifetime is not enough to make memories with my husband. Hopefully, our memories will continue to live in our daughter's lifetime, and even beyond.
I am never short of memories of and with my husband, Rolly. Ever since he entered my life, it has been full of snapshots of memorable events, most of which had been life-changing.
The most memorable one, however, stands out for two reasons: it is quite recent, and I wasn't there to witness it.
Last June 29, my husband and I brought our baby, Luce Domini, to her doctor since she has had coughs and fever since the day before. I then left them together, with Luce not her usual bubbly self. Later that day, I received a text message from Rolly, saying that he had Luce admitted to the hospital. Being the mother that I am, I immediately called him, wanting the full details. And full details my husband gave me!
He was giving Luce a sponge bath, my husband said, when our daughter suddenly shivered and rolled-over her eyes, with her lips and face turning blue. Rolly immediately brought Luce out of our room, washing her nape with tap water, while requesting for a tricycle pronto. All the while, I learned later from housemates, he was saying, "Luce, huwag naman, huwag naman."
At the hospital, Luce was immediately attended to. There was my daughter, whose fever the doctor and nurses tried to bring down, and my husband, who was being looked at curiously by the staff. It was a dramatic sequence worthy of being included in E.R., the hospital drama on TV. My baby turned out okay, and it was only then when my husband realized how he was: barefoot and wearing his house clothes. No wonder people were looking at him.
I laughed when he told me this. (Of course, I already had the temerity to laugh since my baby's condition was already stable at that time.) So very Rolly, so much his style of fatherhood to our Luce: raw, unpretentious, no frills, to the point. He did not care how he looked, what mattered most was that our baby's condition be stabilized the soonest possible time.
Luce is really a strong force in our relationship. My other treasured memory happened 10 months and two days before the above incident. I had just given birth to Luce two days before (a month and four days before my due date), and we are hoping to go home together the following day. Rolly and I were left alone in my room, with Luce staying at the nursery. An hour or so earlier, I held our baby for the first time in my arms. Luce seemed so small, weighing just 2.0 kgs. I cried as I hugged her, with my mother and husband looking at us inside the nursery.
Later, I was to share the feeling with Rolly. I was so overwhelmed with our baby, and so was he, although he had not had the privilege to hold her yet. That night was a landmark night in our marriage.
Our childbirth experience had been something for the books. I say "our" even if childbirth is a woman's biological role, for my husband had been with me all throughout: from the first ultrasound confirming my pregnancy, to my monthly prenatal visits to my doctor, to the time when I had to have bedrest due to low amniotic fluid level, to the time I had to be hospitalized for rehydration, to the time I had to deliver via cesarean operation. Too bad he was not with me inside the operating room.
That landmark night, my husband and I bonded together, really bonded together, opening our hearts to one another. It was to be our last night together as husband and wife alone; for the next night and the nights after that, we have also become father and mother to our daughter, Luce Domini.
A lifetime is not enough to make memories with my husband. Hopefully, our memories will continue to live in our daughter's lifetime, and even beyond.
posted by Faye | 10:42:00 AM
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