Will the Real Tita Please Stand up?

A fortnight ago, I was trying to find 'hits' on Google for "Tita (pronounce "Tee-tuh") and Blog".

For my own self-immersion and vanity, if you like.

And I found another Tita with her own blog and she's Indonesian! More or less from the same region.

I was thrilled! It's so difficult to find another person with the same namesake (at least in nickname).

I have yet to find a girl with the same namesake in Malaysia.

A close friend of mine, Amy, did tell me that Tita means 'Uncle' in Tagalog. I don't know how true that is.

And I'm sure there are countless Tita in the Spanish-speaking world. At least, from my own research deduction over the Internet.

Tita appears in many Spanish-related words, it seems.

Maybe it does mean Uncle in Spanish AND Tagalog (since Filipino or Philippines was once a Spain colony).

Back to my great discovery, I was curious to find out about another Tita and wrote her a message via her blog.

And she replied. And what was more surreal is that she is studying in the same town that my husband will be going to. Delft!

She is also married with two kids - a boy and a girl.

Wow, that got me floored! A Tita in Delft? That was funny AND exciting.

Through our correspondences, I got to know a local's perspective about living in Holland (since she has been there for quite some time) and more importantly, about inoculation and other medical benefits for my soon-to-arrive bundle of joy.

It did aid in allaying my concerns over the medical coverage.

A few missives later, we have both agreed to meet up. I do hope we get the chance to.

It would be strange meeting a total stranger with whom I didn't get a first-person introduction.

But a Tita will always make sure the other person feels that she is at home with her company.

Isn't that right, Tita?

Lay your hands on me

7:30 pm. Thursday night. Malaysian time.

I was lying on my back in bed watching "Friends" re-run on tv with my husband.

My right hand was laid on top of my bulging stomach.

Suddenly, a strong wave-like motion from inside my womb 'touched' my hand.

I screamed! My husband sprang out of bed in the process.

That was surreal!

I had innumerable episodes of kicking but that one hits the spot, so to speak.

I know it was probably her rolling inside her cavity, but it felt limb-like to me.

I was overjoyed with her making contact with me.

It is undoubtedly an experience I will treasure for the rest of my lives.

Birth of the Incorrigible Twins

Two days ago was my birthday.

Mine and that of my twin sister. We have already passed the 30th year mark.

My sister and I used to be quite close. Then, we both got married. Well, she got hitched first, followed by me two years later. And by the same token, she got pregnant and had a tyke first.

We didn't become close until we both went overseas to study. The old adage, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" plays a role here.

I could recall the closeness and intimacy we had even to this day. Sometimes, it is so clear like the bluest of skies. On other (bad) days, it is hazy like a cloudy day. Sadly, rites of passage have drifted us apart. That, on top of other misunderstandings and petty squabbles.

Prior to our overseas studies, we went to the same residential school for our Form Four and Form Five classes (equivalent to 11th and 12th grade in the States).

Apart from being in the same class, we even shared the same dormitory room during Form Five. With all that close proximity, one would assume we were close. We were. But not as much as from the point when we parted ways. I don't know how she felt but in my case, I took her for granted whenever she was around. People tend to do that when their loved ones are within reach. They would pick fights with them and disregard their existence whenever the opportunities arise.

When I went to the States to further my studies, I came to a realisation that I do miss her. Throughout our stay overseas (she was in United Kingdom), we learned to be more forthcoming about our feelings toward one another. We managed to say that we miss one another. Previously, no such exchange of emotions was possible.

Such affection should in fact be instinctual - after all, we did share the same womb together!

But such display of affection is not so 'big' with my family members. We only show physical affection during religious festivities, and other rare events like bon voyage, homecoming or weddings.

I think Asians in general are disinclined and not accustomed to show their affections in an outward, physical fashion. We were not brought up in such culture.

Back to my sibling tale, rites of passage like boyfriends-turn-husbands, marriage, getting pregnant and giving birth change our priorities in life.

I felt a tad bit left out when she tied the knot and was struggling with my own separation issue. Things like going out together were few and far between in the beginning.

In the midst of this adjustment, a blissful 'reunion' with my (now) husband took place. Like any other couples in love, I was engrossed in my own amorous affair to impose myself on her married life.

But her husband's erratic work schedule (back when they first got married) and her first pregnancy played a hand in rendering my usefulness and active involvement in her life again.

However, unlike before, there would always be the husband factor coming into the equation whenever a decision needed to be made.

It's only natural and something I've come to accept now that I myself am married.

However, there are more than meet the eyes. From my wedding date onwards, other intermingling events in our lives have also not been in our favour. Misunderstandings ensued. More often than not, they were over trivial matters that, in my opinion, encapsulate a different level of unresolved issues.

Perhaps, it is misplaced anger, a resentment over a past issue or an unconscious neglect over the nuances of the other party's feelings.

Over time, they accumulate. For my part, being a hypersensitive soul (and more so during pregnancy), I often reacted prematurely or turned belligerent to those perceived unkind remarks and inconsiderate actions.

Sometimes, I wonder if the passage of time has made us more susceptible to people's words and actions especially those that come from our loved ones.

Do we need to come to the point where we are inured by the ones we love? Isn't that a sad juxtaposition? Love and inure?

It should not and could not be that way. We must always be fond and cheerful of the ones we care about. Ideally, that is. But then again, people, more so family, are not perfect.

Alas, like the saying goes, "Blood is thicker than water."

I always believe, despite the encumbrances of treading over my family's idiosyncracies, they will always be there to support and help me in my times of need.

And when the day turns foggy, I will cast my melancholy away and look forward for the rainbow to come out on a clear blue, sunny day.

Baby blues

From the day I was tested positive for pregnancy way back in July, the journey into motherhood has been wrought with both physical and emotional challenges.

I have been in and out of clinic for fever and abdominal pains and was once in the emergency ward of a hospital for 'light bleeding' or in correct medical term 'spotting.' Everything was all well again, thankfully, after a shot of progesterone in the region of my 'derriere.'

But nothing prepared me for what to come next. After undergoing a triple-blood test in the middle of September, which is routine for mothers-to-be to check for abnormality or other kind of genetic incompabilities, my gynae hit me with the most unexpected news.

When the results of the blood test came back, he informed us that I have a relatively high marker for down syndrome. I was shocked and sad. That is, compared to the world's population with cases of down syndrome, I was nestled somewhere in the high percentile. He advised an amniocentesis procedure to ascertain for sure the presence of a down syndrome baby. Or in correct medical term, a fetus with chrosomal disorder(s).

I was crushed. I was not prepared for such news. We both were not.

We were weighing our options. Should we opt for an amniocentesis or just wade it out and pray for the best? And another dilemma unfolds - if the amniocentesis was not in our favour, should we just continue with the pregnancy or Heaven forbids, terminate it? I would always be brimming with tears whenever I think of the consequences of our next action.

We were in a lose-lose situation, it seems. And an amniocentesis doesn't come cheap. At least not in Malaysia. It is NOT something that it's covered under my husband's employment benefits. My benefits would be zilch when compared to his company's.

And I think it's preposterous that they draw the line for eligibility to undergo this procedure. But an insurance company must draw the line SOMEWHERE to make profits. The current criteria are for women of 35 years old and above and with a family case of down syndrome. Since I didn't fall under the former criterion, I was not covered under the company's insurance plan.

We then decided to opt for the procedure, despite having to fork out our own money. It was expensive but at least, we would have a peace of mind thereafter.

Amniocentesis involves taking a sample of a pregnant woman's amniotic fluid by inserting a special finehair-like needle into the woman's stomach. The sample is then being sent to the lab for further processing. It will be cultured and tested to detect and produce definitive results on different kinds of abnormalities such as down syndrome and neural tube defects. Since the fluid contains cells from our baby, chemicals, and micro-organisms, it can answer many questions about our baby's health as well as inform us of the baby's gender.

Amniocentesis is also not without its side effects and risks. According to www.babycentre.co.uk Website, about one in 200 women develops an infection or some other complication as a result of their amniocentesis that results in miscarriage. So imagine what a nervous wreck I was!

The procedure, thankfully, went along smoothly - thanks to this soothingly professional gynae (recommended by my own gynae) who is an expert in fetal-related surgery. I would go so far to say that he is even better than my gynae. Sorry doc!

However, the results would only be known in a week's time. We were relieved that the amnio was over with but the anticipation of the results was making us glum and downhearted. It was like, in my husband's own words, walking on shards of glass.

Could you imagine we didn't laugh ever since we found out about the blood test's results? And another week of waiting would mean two weeks of gloomy faces.

Then, on a fine Saturday afternoon, I received a phone call. It was from that fetal expert's clinic. The nurse informed us that the baby is normal. I didn't expect the call since the procedure had just taken place on Wednesday. It wasn't even a week! Wow, I was SO glad that they called earlier rather than making us wait for a week!

I was reeling from the news, busy telling my husband, that I forgot to ask about the baby's gender. I had to call back. Earlier on, we had both agreed that we wanted to know.

It is a girl.

Sigh. A girl!

My husband was hoping for a girl. But after that heartwrenching, emotional turmoil, we had both concurred that any gender would be heavensent as long as the baby is healthy and normal.

Now, at the beginning of my third trimester, my babygirl is quite active, kicking and making somersaults. Just hold tight girl, February will beckon us sooner or later!

River by the moonlit

"Moon River" music by Henry Mancini, lyrics by Johnny Mercer

Moon River, wider than a mile, I'm crossing you in style some day.
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker, wherever you're going I'm going your way.
Two drifters off to see the world. There's such a lot of world to see.
We're after the same rainbow's end-- waiting 'round the bend, my huckleberry friend,
Moon River and me.

Moon River is one of my favourite songs in the world! Nevertheless a short song, it has both emotional heft and depth and carries with it some of my memorable romantic anecdotes.

Originated as a soundtrack for the movie "Breakfast of Tiffany's, the song encapsulates a pivotal moment in the lives of two lovers living under the same roof of an apartment-like complex.

Audrey Hepburn, in her tour-de-force performance, fits like a glove in this impressionable role. Her gamine look and puckish smile convey a very likeable persona, both on and off the screen. She is indeed a great actress, at least in my book, nonpareil with today's choice of transitory actresses.

And to my huckleberry friend, wherever you are today (or is it tonight where you are?), you're always in my prayers and thoughts.

Infantile thoughts

I'm now into my seventh months and protruding generously in the stomach region, to say the least.

In actuality, I can't wait for the labor to come - to get over with it. However, God has His own plans and I respect Him for it. Like everything which has its own season, I must have my patience.

Until the actual birth date, I just have to bear with the 'growing pains' and other aches that accompany my pregnancy. And not knowing how certain sensations translate to different physical conditions also contribute to my 'anxiousness' - as my male gynae aptly put it.

Stop being anxious, he said. Well, you stop being so callous! Haha.

It's not that I'm not grateful for the upcoming birth of my first child - it's just that I'm just tired - a sentiment I am sure shared by other expectant mothers.

And anticipating the first-person introduction to my new baby has me in knots and caused anxiety over my capability to take care and fend for this little bundle of joy.

It's only natural since it's the first baby and I've seen my sisters going from being pregnant to being a mother and they did fine!

Save for my eldest sister, the transition was not running that smoothly but they managed and learnt to cope with the challenges of caring and nursing a baby.

It's ironic how things turned out. I've wanted to have a baby ever since I was engaged. Let's face it - ever since I went out with my husband.

I wanted to care for a child. Of my own and my hubby.

And since we got hitched, I looked forward to the day when my menstrual cycle will be 'delayed'.

With frayed nerves and sheer anguish, I'd imagined the day when it'd be announced - you're pregnant! - but was disappointed when they were nothing more than false alarms. I had thought the negative results would be far outweighed by my eagerness to be pregnant. But alas, they affected me - I became depressed and down in the dumps.

The funny thing was when that miraculous day finally did arrive, it landed on us, me and my husband, with an anti-climatic note.

It was late June and I was 'late' for two weeks so I went to the local clinic near my workplace, naturally to seek further advice. This was following a failed home pregnancy test which left me unsatisfied.

It was still negative.

In two weeks time, I fell ill and had a high temperature and attended a different clinic near my office. The male doctor diagnosed me with stomach flu (or stomach infection) and prescribed me some antibiotics and other medication. Since it coincided with the flu season, I didnt think much about it.

Again, in another 2 weeks or so, my menses has yet to show up. I was worried. But I attributed it to the antibiotics that I had swallowed. In the back of my mind, I was hoping it was due to a successful conception.

I went to another clinic near my house and the urine test still came back negative. Looking at me with sympathetic eyes, the doctor said sometimes the keen feelings of wanting a baby could result in psychosomatic symptoms that a woman usually undergo when she is pregnant. In other words, I wanted a baby so much that my cycle was rendered late as a mental perception to being pregnant. I was crushed. She advised that I take something like pineapple to aid in bringing about my menses.

I did drink a whole can of pineapple juice in the following two days. My period didn't come still but I did notice a staining that came and went.

A week later, I was feverish, headachey and achey all over that I decided to see a doctor. I was sick of falling sick all the time. I was just NOT me. And the taste of coffee makes me nauseous. And I am supposed to LOVE coffee! Something was really amiss.

It was after a meeting in KL that I went to meet up with my husband at a KLCC-based clinic. The doctor asked me to take urine sample again.

After the harrowing weeks of negative results, I wasn't even expecting anything to the contrary.

Then, as we were sitting quietly at the waiting room minding our own business, the doctor suddenly appeared out of nowhere and said nonchalantly "It's positive - come (to my room)!"

We were stupefied. He just said it like that - without any preamble such as "Congratulations!". We sat there like lead, trying to digest the word - POSITIVE.

When the doctor subsequently queried me with the usual barrage of questions (my last menstrual date, choice of gynae, etc), I was still reeling with the abrupt turn of event. I'm sure my husband was going through the same motion.

I am with a child! I was so elated and grateful to God AlMighty.

I vividly remember that fated day - it fell on the 19th of July! Well, that's not wholly the truth. It was either 18th or 19th but I remember it was near my friend, Izana's birthday.

My pregnancy has its ups and downs - one which I will expatiate further in my next posting.

Overall, I'm looking forward to the day she will look upon my face and instinctively accept me as her mother. As one of her fortifiers, her protectors, her first line of defence in this world.

My condo in Ampang KL

This is my condo in Ampang... which was decorated by my husband ... he has a knack for color...allegedly. The condo overlooks the KL Skyline... which is nice especially during the Merdeka celebrations/new year celeb.. we can see the fireworks all across KL... from the KL tower.