a teen is born...

A few days more and it’s exactly thirteen years now when my neighbors gone frantic upon learning my placenta had broken the morning before Christmas. Everybody seemed to be involved, everyone was rushing me to go to the hospital while I’m still enjoying my bath. “I’m having goose bumps, you’re having a baby boy for Christmas,” said our teary-eyed family friend.

Twenty-six hours of labor and my OB-Gynecologist decided for me to undergo what my mother completely dread, the C-Section. She is so terrified of the procedure that she often reminded me to control my food intake while infanticipating so that the baby won’t grow much bigger and that I’ll have no difficulties to deliver normally. Little did my mother know I am more frightened of having a normal birth than CS, scared enough that my cervix, despite regular contraction won't dilate to the last minute, thus had me lying at the operation table instead of the delivery bed.

18 minutes after opening, the baby was out.

A boy was born on Christmas day, with skin as bright as the sun and lovely gray eyes awed by his visitors. For a while we thought he was lucky to inherit the genes of his great, great, British Spanish grandfather who had not gray eyes but blue, until his fourth month, his eyes turned light brown. Gray or light brown it doesn't matter, we're still captivated.

The baby now a teen had grown taller than us but still a baby in many ways. He still loved to hear my stories of him when he was just learning to talk and walk. He recently attended an eight-day sex education seminar in school and when asked how it was, responded, “It’s weird!”

Still very much into his Yugi-oh cards, Abraham is fond of Simpson, Naruto, and video games. He is thoughtful and sweet but sometimes rough and irritable, willful in some instances but manageable. He is kind of jovial which is sometimes irritating especially when he transforms a serious conversion into a joke, but we since have learned to tolerate and enjoy because it’s his comfortable way of expressing himself.

Nevertheless, you cannot discount his care and concern for us, and for his brother. He would see me through the window until I drove-off to make sure I’m safe. He worries when his Dad is not home by 8 pm. One thing he most love to do is pat Lemuel's hair which he said he will continue doing until they grow old. Baam amuses us at how fast he assembles toys or installs/operates eletronic gadgets even without the manual. He loves to run. He loves the subject i hated most, Mathematics.

I could go on and on but I guess what I wanted to say really is, I am blessed to experience all these.

Happy Birthday to you Abraham! More power to our Fact Wizard! We hope you'll be as you dreamed of, making your in-flight announcement as - "This is your Captain speaking..."

Before you were conceived, I wanted you
Before you were born, I loved you
Before you were here an hour, I would die for you
This is the miracle of life. Maureen Hawkin