Stare, gawk, ogle

Stare. Gawk. Ogle.

That’s all Aires and I do when Heaven Czar is sleeping. He’s asleep 22 hours a day. Now that’s a lot of staring, gawking, and ogling.

My wife and I just could not believe that our son is finally here with us. Only a few weeks ago, we were near the end of our limits when we suffered pitfall after pitfall. Aires’ blood was clotting again. Her natural killer cells were hyperactive again. Her placenta was aging fast. The baby could be born earlier than planned.

No matter how hard we tried to prepare for his coming, Heaven Czar came like a thief in the night, like the gentleman caller whom the maidens waited for, like the falling star in a sea of crystals. Technically, he still should be inside his mother’s womb today. But Heaven could not wait any longer.

We could not wait either for his baby milestones. I gawk at him for a long time, hoping that I could catch the very moment he fixes his stare back at me. I am still a blurry image to him today. But I am counting the days till he is able to see faces more clearly.

What do we see when we stare, gawk, ogle at Heaven? We see his pointed nose. We see his chiseled chin. We see his rosy cheeks. We see his pronounced forehead. We see his long eyelashes. And the ears, what big ones he has! We see a great looking infant.

I don’t care if people say that parents simply see the best in their babies. Isn’t that what all parents should be able to see? See the best in their children. At birth, we see the best in their infant features. We see their best moves as they grow older. We see their best traits as they begin school. We see what they really are best at when they reach puberty. We believe in their strengths and acknowledge their weaknesses.

But that’s still years away for our dear Heaven. For now, let me be content in staring, gawking, ogling at our little miracle. Indeed, seeing is believing.

Naddy or nanny-daddy

My friends call me the male nanny. Children --- babies to teens --- warm up to me quite easily. During family and office out-of-town trips, I would be found taking care of the kids, playing with them, feeding them, and tucking them to sleep. Friends, colleagues, and relatives quipped that I would make a great father someday.

That someday has finally come.

When I learnt that Aires, my wife, was at last pregnant last January, I began reliving my nanny days. I summoned my paternal instinct. I invoked my daddy vibes.

When I first heard the heartbeat of the baby inside Aires’ womb, I shed a tear or two. My heart raced just as fast as the pulse beats emanating from the ultrasound machine.

When I first saw a complete scan of the baby inside Aires’ womb, I waited with abated breath the doctor’s verdict. Our baby is a boy and he is one lean mean fighting machine.

When I was told that Aires may have to deliver earlier than planned, I tried so hard not to crumble under all the anxiety. I lifted everything up to God.

When Aires told me that fateful midnight of 26 July that her water just broke, I had to be strong for Aires and for the baby. There was no room for second-guessing, and no space for second thoughts.

When Heaven Czar was born, I knew that my someday has finally come. I have always believed that fatherhood is in me. I touched Heaven for the first time when he was still inside the incubator. I caressed him, believing that my warm touch could heal. I took pictures of my son, slinging away, no holds-barred. I tried to be the source of strength for Aires who faced quite an ordeal, what with all the medications, injections, and anticipation.

I was not perfect. I had several slip-ups along the way but I was learning. Heaven did not just fill up a gap. He completed us. My dream to be a father has finally come. But the journey is not over.

My guy friends welcomed me to the club and asked if I was ready for many sleepless nights and cranky mornings. But I don’t know how much sleepless could it get in the coming nights.

Heaven Czar is only two-weeks old. So far, Aires and I get at least six hours of sleep every night, with at most three breastfeeding gaps in between. We would wake up every two hours to breastfeed Heaven. We are slowly getting the hang of it.

Thank God also that Heaven is not cranky at all. He occasionally lets out a grunt but he seems perfectly content, swaddled in comfy blankets, breastfed at the right time, and making poo-poo and wee-wee quite frequently.

And when I change his diapers, I cannot help but smile. The nanny is finally a daddy.

Perfect

There’s no such thing as a perfect thing.

But breast milk is simply perfect. Just ask our neonatologist, Dr. Mian Silvestre. Just ask Heaven Czar, our son, maybe years from now. Heaven was born prematurely at 31 weeks and 6 days. He had to be placed inside an incubator for one week. He could have stayed there for a longer time had it not been for his mom’s lifesaving gift --- Aires’ breast milk.

Nobody could really explain why. But a mother’s breast milk for her premature baby contains the most astonishing components that will help the baby survive. And that milk is uniquely made for each baby.

We only needed a few drops of Aires’ colostrum to sustain Heaven in the first three days of his life. In fact, we only needed to give him about 0.1 cc for every two hours. This amount increased as the days passed. Heaven was fed through a gastric tube.

But perfect as it is, giving breast milk to a premature baby is a labor of love. Aires expressed milk. It was painful at first but when we saw how such little intake helped Heaven achieved great strides, Aires endured the pain and soon after, her regular milk started flowing.

Just before Heaven reached his one week milestone, he was out of the incubator and unto Aires’ bosom. It was magnificent to see Heaven finally get breastfed.

But everytime Aires and I put Heaven to her breast, we struggle to get the perfect latch. Successful breastfeeding relies on the right position and the perfect latch. The baby’s mouth should be wide open, lower lip covering most of the aureola, the chin touching the breast, the nose tilted up. Only with a perfect latch can we assure that Heaven gets his perfect food.

Now, that is perfection at its finest and purest.