Official Entry to the Pinoy Parenting Blog Carnival
Becoming a parent is just that... a becoming. Technically, the minute there is a child (on the way or in your arms), you are already a parent. But realistically, it's not like that at all.
It is a process and I don't know when it stops, if it ever does. I was an intentional parent long before I even met the man i'd marry. I made sure I made all the good and right choices so I can enjoy parenthood... the most important of which is marrying a good man, a great man.
The minute I found out I was pregnant (I was actually just making sure that I can take antibiotics in case I was sick), I didn't feel like a parent. I felt overwhelmed and scared.
Then I had all those spotting and bedrest difficulties. And three confinements. I didn't feel like a parent then. I felt like a walking timebomb... a fragile sort of thing.
And when my son was yanked out off me October 7 of last year, in a C-section delivery that required diferent drugs to be used because I have a strong history of allergies... I did not feel like a parent. All I felt was lost and confused.
When I sat up to facilitate my son's nursing, despite the C-section pain, I didn't feel like a parent then. I felt like an automated machine, doing what should be done, doing what it is programmed to do.
And in the days and weeks and months that I struggled with my son's care (still do), and a change of status from earning to not, I didn't feel like a parent. I actually feel like a child a lot sometimes, crying embittered tears, wondering what was the last thing I did right.
But I go on becoming. I go on loving and nurturing. I keep rising to the challenge. I count my losses and gather the energy for yet another day. I count my blessings and pin my hopes on a future while enjoying what I can today. I still feel like a hired help sometimes, or an interloper, a slave, a teacher or a stalker. I am not at all in my element, even though parenthood has been done for centuries, it's a novelty to me. All I know is that there is this fierce need to protect and care for this drooling, biting, farting little boy that is sleeping beside me right now. And that come hell or high waters, my love will be the one constant thing in his life, even in those times when I have nothing but negativity in my heart.
I'm becoming a parent. And i'm slowly realizing that being one would always feel like a jumbled different emotions and motivations... enough to make you vomit your breakfast really, only I haven't had any.
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