Dear Daughter…

Anonymous in Ang Pinoy Stories

May 09, 2021 • 5 min Read

You are my firstborn. You are the first person I have ever loved unconditionally and have given my whole being. You are my future and my hope. I love you so much. You may not comprehend now how much I love you, but you will in the future when you have a child.

I had you because I planned your existence. Your father and I had an agreement that I will not be pregnant until I was ready. He respected my decision. I felt then that I was not ready to be a mother because I was simply not ready. I did not see myself carrying a child, taking care of a baby, and other emotional burdens that pregnant women and mothers go through for a tiny being. No, I was not ready.

I remember getting angry at your father many times because he would tease me that maybe he got me pregnant the night before because he came off ‘late.’ You see, we practiced the withdrawal method. A doctor told me I was too young to take birth control pills —at 22! I told her I was married, still, she withheld the prescription. I did not like taking medications anyway.

And so it was that way until a friend got pregnant. I loved looking at and feeling the random humps whenever the baby kicked. Then, I felt that lump in my chest that told me I was ready to become a mother.

Your father and I tried to make babies almost every night. We knew nothing. Imagine the sadness when I had my periods after all the nightly acrobatics. Did I just see you sneer and wince at the same time? It was not easy, dear. I would cry and stare at the darkness and just sigh at the end.

We went to a doctor who told us to be healthy, take our vitamins, and try every two days. We did and we succeeded. February 6. That was the night I thought something happened that would eventually change my life. I got pregnant that night.

It was not easy having you inside me. I hated the smell of garlic. I would gag whenever I brush my teeth — every single time. I turned into a picky eater.

I was supposed to have you around November 3. Anything past November 1 was good.

October 28, late evening. I went down to pee and saw red spots on my underwear. I remained calm and went up to wake up your father. He panicked. “What should I do?” he asked. I smiled and told him slowly to get dressed, fetch the owner jeepney, and come back for me. I always smile whenever I remember that scene. Men… Your uncle drove the vehicle, your father beside me, and I terribly enjoyed the fast ride, especially when your uncle drove between two huge trucks and your father screamed at him to slow down. I smiled again.

I slept in the delivery room for hours and nothing happened. I was still 2cm in the past hours. My back was hurting. I heard women come and go, scream their pains away, and I was still there. After 22 hours, the doctor told me you pooped. She said it was fetal distress and I had to go under the knife or you and I will be in trouble.

Your father came in after I was drugged. I asked him if it was okay —stupid question, but my mind was not working. Everything was slow. I spoke slow, I could not understand anyone. And I slept.

I woke up and a nurse showed me a baby all bundled up. I could not see your face but I saw your beautiful hand and tiny, long fingers. I slept again.

Two or three months after, I believe I was still in that stage where new mothers were expected to be depressed. How did I know? I was hearing voices. One such voice told me to kill you with a clothes hanger. In the head. I stood there for quite some time. I asked the voice, how do I do that? But I left without waiting for the response. I forgot the voice and carried on, it was vivid. But my mind was somewhere so I was able to ignore it.

Much later, I taught you to scream whenever I come home from the office. you had a mean baby shriek that they hated but sounded like music to my ears. The wide smile that accompanied the shriek was the most beautiful toothless smile I have ever seen.

I loved you every single second we were together. Your hugs cured my sadness. You were my angel, with your big curls and wide eyes. You were a fast talker. Most of the time I did not understand what you were babbling about but your father did. And he liked it. That was your bond.

So you see, it was not easy having you but I would not trade it for anything in the world. You were worth every wait, every pain, every lost sleep, and more. I never knew I could love a human being until I felt you wiggling in my tummy and burping on my chest. The happiness of looking at your face outweighed everything that I feared as a person.

I was complete because I had you. I understood my mother eventually because I also became a mother. I told myself I will be a mother you can be proud of. I told myself you will be better than me and be accomplished because I will learn from the shortcomings of my mother and heap on you what I did not get from her.

But when you were seven years old, you screamed at me. “You do not know me at all!” That broke my heart. I ignored you and you came back to apologize.

Remember what I said then? No one will ever understand and love you the same way I will…unconditionally. I am keeping that promise, my child. Because I will always love and understand you. No matter what.