I have never really stopped to say thank you for staying with me despite all the challenges that this married life brought us. When I was younger, I thought that babies would come easy. Had I known that it would be so hard for us to have our little one, I would have not waited for so long and I would have given you a child in the soonest possible time; back when (probably) my immune system was still not dysfunctional and my body was not running after its deadline.
But I could not have known.
I could not have known that I would put you in so much pain when we lost our two little angels. One was our honeymoon baby and the other one, our anniversary baby. I could not have known that our blood’s HLA are too compatible and that it would result to my body not being able to protect our own baby from my overexcited, hyperactive natural killer cells. I could not have known that my blood was too thick and that it would fail to deliver our baby’s needed nutrients. But more than that, I could not have known that you were suffering in your own silent pain when I hated you for a while because everything seemed to be just okay with you – that you did not grieve the loss of our little angels. It was unfair of me to think that. I should have known better.
But you stayed.
You stayed despite the fact that we have to go through expensive treatments just to address my immune issues. You stayed despite your fear of injections and you had to undergo 24 vials of blood extraction every month just so the doctors can draw less than a teaspoon of white blood cells from those twenty-four vials to inject and introduce your antibodies to me. You stayed even when I was a raging lunatic at that time of the month when I keep on buying pregnancy kits to do the tests over and over again and still get negative results. You stayed even when you had to deal with a crying fest all the time.
So for that, thank you.
Thank you for holding my hand during those unbearable times of LIT injections. Thank you for praying the novena with me, going to Padre Pio’s shrine all the way to Batangas and almost dancing in Obando for the desperation of having a child. Thank you for giving me two fluffy children who made our married life so much colorful. It’s like having kids who cannot talk and who shed a lot. LOL.
I know in my heart that you will be a good father and I am sorry that it took me quite a long time for you to be that – to be a dad.
But you were not a good father. You are great.
You were already a great dad from that first moment that the evasive two lines finally appeared. You were already a great dad because you made the little one’s journey to fullness bearable – buying him guavas and hot and sour soup in the oddest times even if I will just throw it up after. You were already a great dad when you were patiently waiting long hours in our doctors’ clinics, the ultrasound room and the hospital stays. You were already a great dad when you, with all fears, carried the little one when he was out of me. It was your first time to hold someone so fragile. You never wanted to. You were so scared. But you did. And I could have never been more proud.
Your journey as an APAS daddy was not easy. You did not choose this. You could have left but you stuck it with me and God has finally given us His ultimate blessing. Our little family. Our little rainbow baby.
There is no doubt in my mind that your son will grow up to love you unconditionally. To see you as the wonderful man that you are. Because you have fought for him and his mommy despite and in spite of all the hardships and challenges. But more than that, I will always be grateful and I promise that I would return all the unconditional love that you have given our little family in the best way that I can.
Forever compatibly yours (in blood and everything in between),
Clueless APAS Mama