Motherhood

“Mommy”

Those five letters I longed for. I had that burden and I processed it as something in the future to look forward for. Completely forgetting that I was, or to be more correct — I AM.

I conceived at 21.

It was late August of 2007, the Founders Week festivities were at it’s peak. My ex boyfriend wooed me back, and I said yes. A couple of months passed, no signs of my monthly period and all signs of pregnancy are up. Sensitivity to certain smells, mood swings, irritability, hot flushes, and a lower abdomen that’s growing harder as the day passed.

I remember the mixed emotions. Excitement because life is growing inside of me and a huge chunk of fear — I wasn’t ready. 

I was in my last semester in college, completing an internship and some few units. My boyfriend was also still in school. I’m the eldest and thinking of how my parents would feel and react when they learn I’m pregnant was enough to drive me out of my wits. All that drama on top of the graduating student stress. 

Eight weeks later. After a stressful field trip to Boracay, I lost the baby. I bled for days.

I remember crying so hard. But after a few days of thinking about it. I'll be honest. I was relieved.

I buried that incident along with all the drama that came with that relationship.

Unknowingly, the guilt was eating me up. Along with my reproductive health deteriorating over the years.

Every thing just surfaced now. Now that God convicted me to face what I needed to take care of in my ovaries and uterus.

I know God is working. I just didn't know that the healing I needed was more than the physical. I realized that God wanted me to let go of a lot of hurt, guilt and suppressed longing I had for my baby I named "Chad" that time.