Glory's 2 month Old

She's everything we prayed for and more...

Happy 2nd Month Darling!

May you grow to be a woman with a gentle and quiet spirit, a channel of God's love and blessing and healing and joy.

Goodbye Champagne

She was found... and adopted - they scanned the chip too late. By then, they'd developed feelings for her.
Of coz they would - who wouldn't grow to love my crazily happy Champagne?
My crazily happy baby who would run up and smother you with wags & kisses excitedly.
Who would imagine silly games and get herself all engrossed in them.
Who so affectionately shares her bone-treat by chewing it in half and giving me a piece(though she did return to claim my half when she finished hers and noticed mine was intact)
Who would rest her head on my lap and stare adoringly, hoping for some dinner scraps.
Who would be so manja and nudge my hand into motion when i neglect to sayang her.
My crazily happy champagne who would tremble with excitement when obeying commands, in explosive anticipation of the praises and rubs that came after.

But i mustn't think about that now.
Thoughts like these make me want to claim her back.
Which really isn't right or practical anymore.

Steeling myself always works. When the pet chick died, when the pet hamsters died, when Dorby was given away... it has always been my de facto response. Pretend it's okay, act like it doesn't REALLY matter, move on... though i always seem to refuse to touch the cage of the deceased animal, and i always refrain from talking about them till months or years later.
It's probably unhealthy - yeah, we all read about how we need to mourn the loss before we can truly move on.

But it seems like i am afraid to mourn. When John Cusack's dog died in Martian Child, i cried along- in part, it was for Augustine and Furball and Oreo. It was for Dorby, who was given away and drifted out of my radar screen till i heard, when i was in my teens, that she has already passed on. How heartily Cusack faced his loss. Wish i'd had the courage to do that.

Sometimes mourning seems to be a luxury. It's also a quicksand.
Like after the first breakup with A.
I could've done the "steel-myself" thing and moved on cavalierly. I could've convinced myself i didn't care, and i think the facade would have held up. But i decided instead to mourn (somehow i figured that when it came to People, not mourning would result in baggages) and a terrible month followed. it was such a terrible month that i still wonder if the mourning was actually more traumatic than the loss. Perhaps not mourning would be better?
On the other hand, i may have developed a fear of mourning that is actually more oppresive than the mourning itself. To mourn or not to mourn, that is the question.

But i digress.

This post is for Champagne.

Baby
i remember how you stuck your paw out of the cage and urged me to take you home.
i enjoyed our romps in Yunnan Garden, and later on at the Bartley cemetary, how you bound about in the tall grass, like a happy little bunny.
i remember how you leapt into my arms when you stepped on some ants.
i remember how you pretended to be a fierce predator and chased Something around the room.
i remember how you stole my duck noodles and finished up the meat, leaving the noodles for me.
You're a smart one.
In Dog-Years, you'd be Grandma, but i always called you Baby and you'll always be Baby to me.
But - OY! Don't you know your name is Champagne? Why on earth did you answer when they called you Ginger? Now you've gone and made their whole family fall in love with you...
But i can imagine you being happy with them... they sound sincere and loving and fun. I suppose you are happy there. Do i dare to go visit you?
i dunno.
i miss you actually.
and if i see you again i may not let you go.
i feel like one of those jilted lovers who realise how much they've taken their lover for granted only after they've left.
but it probably is better for you to be with them - you'd probably have more company, more cuddles, more walks...
So you've struck it rich now huh, Baby?
Transformed from a Seletar Champagne to a Bukit Timah Ginger.
你要幸福哦.

Perfect Love

"I just keep having this feeling that if people really know me, they won't like me."
I remember this conversation with sarah when we were in secondary school. strangely she could identify with what i was saying. Not that we were hiding anything from our friends, we told one another everything and more. We still liked one another. Yet there we were, somehow feeling that we didn't really deserve to be liked.
Perhaps it was because we didn't really like ourselves? We didn't meet the exacting standards that we have set for ourselves?

it was an insecurity that plagued me, and God took special pains to convince and remind me of His love. Looking back, i see that i have become more and more comfortable with myself as i grew in age and in relationship with God.

This perfect love. It has brought so much healing. That someone who knows me even more intimately than i know myself would lavish such love in spite of me.

People say that the closest to this perfect love is a mother's love for a child. I wonder if that's true... i'm so aware of how lacking my love for Glory is, much as i love her. I think in a way, God's teaching me about His love as He teaches me to love Glory.

Why did God create us? To have a relationship with us? But this relationship cost Him so much. And He knew it would. Why did He anyway?
Why did we procreate? When i look within, honestly, i still can't say i've understood it. Now that Glory is here, it's true, i would forgo sleep, i would jump into a lorry's path, i would skimp on myself to care for her, to protect her, to provide for her. But that's from this perspective of having already met, known and loved her.
Glory is "worth it". Does this therefore mean that motherhood is "worth it"?
For something to be "worth it", it means that utility > cost.
The costs are obvious - time, pains, heart aches, loss of freedom, sleep, putting on weight & getting flabby, losing control of schedule, lifestyle, costs, personal pursuits.
The utility? Simply put, it's Glory. What exactly about Glory? No idea. I can't put it down to say, her eyes or her smile. A relationship with her? Then does it mean that those parents with poor relationships with their teenagers should never have given birth to them?
i can't figure out the utility part of the comparative equation. so i can't conclude that motherhood is worth it. If it is, then we should be making babies after babies until marginal utility = marginal cost. (and the govt can try to tilt that equation a little more... c'mon! give us a year's paid maternity! A baby creche at every work place!)
For now, all i know is that Baby Glory is worth it. Would Baby X be worth it? I don't know. On one hand, all babies are precious and therefore Baby X, Baby Ugly, Baby Naughty would all be worth it too. But on the other hand... i don't want Baby X/Ugly/Naughty!
Which means... my love is conditional! Which is bad, considering we're talking about the much espoused "mother's love".
Which got me worried that my flawed love would hurt and damage Glory.
What if she thought she was loved only because she's pretty and quiet and cheery? What if she thought she deserved to be loved only when she meets up to society's standards?
So when i washed her face, i'd sometimes tell her "it's ok to have pimples, it doesn't really matter. you're special and precious anyway." When i was frustrated that she was fretful and refused to sleep, i'd pause and explain that "mummy's just tired, it's not your fault. actually mummy really loves you." And ever so often, just to be safe, "Darling, mummy is still learning how to love perfectly, but mummy's love isn't perfect. Mummy loves you with all i can, but remember, you always always have God's love, and that love is perfect alright? No matter what, remember that God loves you!"
Yes, i'm serious... i tell that to my 6 week-old.

Man, i'm weird.
Using economics theories to figure out creation and motherhood.
Using ihad theories to craft out conversations with my child.
weird.

YOWWwwwww!

Took Glory for a jab on monday.
I was supposed to cuddle her, hold her leg still, and talk to her to distract her while the nurse administered the jab.

She looked at me with those large, sweet eyes, and smiled as i spoke.

i felt like i was cheating her...

i mean, i didn't LIE to her. i was telling her that she's gonna take a jab and that it was good for her, and it'd be fine, but the TONE i was using was deceptive. It was those high-pitch, play-with-me type of tone.
Hence her trusting, relaxed demeanor. Hence her smile.

Then suddenly she wailed.

Ouch.

Sorry darling.

***
Glory's now 6 weeks old. And i'm in love.
I love the feeling of holding her close as i nurse her in bed, the way she snuggles in my bosom after burping. I love looking at her tiny features, and telling her how much i love each part of her, how God made her so beautifully.
I love the way she looks at me, her eyes all bright and smiley. Those moments are so magical - something in those eyes makes me feel she has a wisdom, compassion, understanding, gentleness that's beyond her years (or weeks), a depth that God has made.
Something in those eyes tells me that she knows i love her.
And those eyes are just so magnetic, so tugging, so mesmerizing.
***
On one of the nights, i heard her slurps and went over sleepily to her cot. Now, those guidebooks experts say that night feeds should be kept business-like, with minimal eye-contact and interaction. And i was happy with just proceeding with business as usual- feed, burp,bed. All i wanted was sleep, so i wasn't planning on cooing and playing every 2 hours in the night.

I came to her cot, pushed aside the mozzie net, and entered heaven.

She was wide awake, patiently waiting, and the moment our eyes met she broke into a sweet smile.

Gosh. That's cheating. You don't smile at me like THAT and expect me to proceed with business as usual.

***
As i was saying, i'm in love.
Though i do long for a short break, though i do long for a 4 hour nap, though i do think about carefree holidays, spas, backpacking trips and spontaneous outings... this little girl has snuggled her way into my heart and claimed a permanent spot.

I'm in love.
Every song seemed to be about her. (especially with many songwriters' tendency to use "baby" in their songs. what izzit with them, they in love with ma baby too?)
Danny asked if i tear while watching her sleep. I joked it off.
But actually, sometimes i do.
And sometimes i cry while listening to silly sappy love songs.

Lyrics | Always Be My Baby lyrics

Helpless Baby?

No smiles needed, no gurgles nor words. But she made a usually stoic grandfather smile and babble.
A little slurp, a call for attention, and a sleep-starved mother races to her side, offering a sore, cracked, bleeding nipple willingly into her searching mouth.
And for someone who doesn't even iron her clothes, i'm handwashing her tiny little garments, towels, wash cloth...

Whoever coined the term "helpless baby" has never met Glory. She has us doing things we'd normally not do, and she doesn't even have to ask. If anything's not to her satisfaction, she gives a dissatisfied "Eh!" and expects things to be righted.
"Presumptuous!" I thought, and proceeded to educate her. "Glory, say 'Mama, please may i have some milk'. Not 'Eh!' "
She says "Eh" anyway.
And i feed her anyway.
And then she looks so pleased and satisfied.

She's not helpless i tell ya. She knows what she wants and how to get it.
And strangely, i simply play along.
Somehow we all do.

Oh, the queen beckons again.