First Month

My darling baby is one month old today. Looking at him as he sleeps, I ask myself, is there anything in this world more precious, more perfect, than this child?

He has given me many sleepless nights, even before he was born. Pregnancy and all its little complications such as constipation, lack of appetite, morning sickness, aches and dietary sacrifices seem so trivial now compared to the joy of holding him in my arms. With him gazing up at me with adoring eyes after I have breastfed and burped him, there is no joy more complete than being a mom. Even as I have to stir awake at three in the morning, to meet the demands of a perpetually hungry little tyke, I say a prayer or two that I have overflowing breastmilk to offer.

My obsessions have changed from playing computer games to researching about breastfeeding, how to store breast milk, umbilical cords, giving baby a bath (which, as of today, I still have not accomplished), diapers and all the little things every self-respecting mothers should know.

My days are broken down into hourly segments. I breastfeed for ten to fifteen minutes, put him to sleep in about five more minutes, and off I go to do whatever nature demands my body to do – bathe, eat, use the toilet, sleep. Then I see to his things – wash and sterilize bottles, refill his container of cotton balls, check his stock of diapers. When I am lucky, I could rush across the hall to my parents’ bedroom and check the internet. Otherwise, I am equally confined to our bedroom and read and re-read the files I have downloaded from the internet on infant care.

Jam and I were able to get Jam’s sister to be Yaya. Ensei El ‘s presence means Jam and I could somehow sneak a few hours to go to mass or attend a friend’s birthday party. It means that during the day, when daddy Jam has to go to work, I am not left so totally alone and helpless. I can afford, when really needed, to go to the bank and pay bills, go to the drugstore to buy medicines, answer phone calls without lugging baby around. Provided, though, that I have left bottles and bottles of mommy’s precious milk in the refrigerator. Sometimes, I feel like a cow – only I have two breasts and I pump at any time of the day.

It is sweet that Jam has taken an active role as a father. During the first few days, without a yaya and virtually no help from anywhere (my mom plays nurse to my cancer-stricken dad while the maids scurry about to run errands), Jam was cook and labandera and errand boy. He is a pro on giving baby a bath and changing diapers. He does not panic when Jerard cries his head off for no obvious reason (well, except hunger and wet diapers). Even with Ensei El around, he burps and sends baby to sleep at night. On weekends when Ensei El takes the days off, Jam is more mommy than I am. My only role is to provide sustenance.

I panic whenever I hear him cry. During the first few nights at home, when we put him in his crib, I lay in semi-consciousness, awake at the slightest hint of movement, at the smallest noise in his crib. I have heard about Sudden Infant Death (SID) and was afraid of it stealing my precious little gem. When before, I could not sleep with the lights on, I am now not comfortable with the darkness. I had to be able to see my little one’s face when I turn to my side, be able to reach him without moving an inch.

During his BCG inoculation, I was sent out of the pedia’s room because they know I could not bear to see my baby being struck by a needle. Were all mommies a sissy? Or was it just I?

Jerard Danniel now has reached his 31st day. His first month. I have counted the days slowly, but they still rushed past me. Pretty soon, he’ll be crawling, uttering his first words, running around, asking for allowance, breaking young women’s hearts.