Sky Hotel and all things Skye

Three months.

It has been three months since Skye bid goodbye.

How do we keep her memories alive? Aires keeps on reading about Trisomy 18, praying that a miracle cure will soon be discovered. She immerses in a renewed advocacy to help women succeed in breastfeeding. She also volunteers at a center for abandoned children.

I think of Skye all the time and thank her for guiding our healing. I get reminded of her through the most inconspicuous ways. At the airport the other, I saw a tow truck with tireguards. On the tireguards are painted the word, Sky. I passed by a side street and there hidden is an inn called Sky Hotel.

Heaven prays every night, asking God to tell Skye to watch over him all the time. He gets excited when he says a baby girl and plays peek-a-boo with those he meets.He asks the most thought-provoking questions. "Why did Skye die? How does Skye become an angel? Why couldn't I play with Skye before?"

We see Skye in baby girls all dolled up by their loving parents. We hear her in songs about life and love. We feel her when we sleep at night. We dream of her in a pretty pink dress, smiling, playing, and most of all without pain.

That's how our healing goes. There is comfort in knowing that Skye's suffering is finally over.

Have you sold a toilet lately?

They are not sales persons. They are ordinary folks plucked from a town that has not known peace or progress.

In the town of Paglat where nine of 10 families have no toilets, Oxfam Philippines gathered volunteers who are willing to learn and help their neighbors have their own toilets. Paglat is a fifth class municipality in the province of Maguindanao. Almost 70% of people live below the poverty line.

The challenge seems simple. Design a toilet that residents can afford. But the product costs between 3 to 10 thousand pesos.

Can the people of Paglat afford this with an average monthly income of only 1,100 pesos?

Called market facilitators, the volunteers underwent a training on sanitation marketing to help them sell toilets. The Center for Health Solutions and Innovations Philippines Inc, (CHSI) designed a highly participatory and creative workshop for the market facilitators.

At first, they thought it was not possible to sell the toilet at its current price. But when they tried their sales pitch with a sample of residents, they all felt ecstatic. Out of 15 residents, 12 already wanted to buy the product.

After the trial marketing, Oxfam and the market facilitators will finetune the product to meet the standards they set for it: affordable, durable and likeable.

The volunteers now call themselves as MMK (Mga May Kasilyas). They are not sales persons. They are not paid to sell toilets. But they all understand now that they are not just selling toilets. They are peddling dreams, safety, health, cleanliness, and most of all, dignity.

Tears for a TV wedding

On TV the other day, Bride-to-be gets a Barbie treatment for her bridal shower, not knowing Fiance is springing a surprise the morning after. She will be married the next day.When the surprise wedding unfolds, Bride gets teary-eyed with Groom's vows.

It was not my usual TV fare but I watched it anyway. I started tearing up too. At first, I didn't know why. But I came to realize it was about Skye.

I did not imagine a wedding scene would make me cry that hard. I would never get to experience walking Skye down the aisle. 

The longing for Skye comes to us at the most unexpected moments.When these moments come, we just let ourselves cry our hearts out.

I will never be the Father-Who-Walked-His-Daughter-Down-the-Aisle but I am and will forever be the Father-Who-Vowed-To-Take-Care-Of-His-Daughter-With-All-His-Strength-and-Love. 

Happy Eight Months, Skye!

The miracle of breast milk

My son, Heaven, would have been formula-fed. I was. I prepared my younger siblings' milk when they were babies. Most of my nephews and nieces were bottle-fed. And TV ads said infant formula make a baby a "gifted child".

But thanks to UNICEF, I learned a lot of stuff about breastfeeding. When I worked for UNICEF, I found myself talking to pregnant women in grocery cashier stalls, markets and malls, urging them to consider breastfeeding. I tried to convince friends and relatives to breastfeed their babies. My wife, Aires, cautioned me that I was sounding too pushy and know-it-all already.

That was when I really reflected on why most women chose bottle-feeding over breastfeeding. Ask a mom about breast milk and she most likely will tell you that it is best for babies. Yet, this knowledge does not translate to actual practice.

I once prepared communication materials for a breastfeeding campaign. We used the headline "The Magic of Breastfeeding." I thought it was brilliant but when I pre-tested the materials to a group of breastfeeding women, I was wrong.

Magic is about waving a wand and making something happen in a blink of an eye. Magic is about spreading dust powder over one's body and flying to Neverland. Magic is about spells and encantations.

Breastfeeding is not like that at all, said the women. A mother and her baby have to work really hard in unison to make breastfeeding happen. If that happens, it is not magic but a miracle.

I had my Eureka moment. I stopped using the "Every mother can" mantra of breastfeeding. I started listening and looking for cues from mothers themselves. Every woman has a unique story to tell. But they share common experiences.

Every mother wishes the best for their newborn. My job is to find the cue that will convince a mother to choose breastfeeding. It usually begins with finding her primary concern. This concern may be simple and menial to complex and clinical.

For my wife, Aires, it was about exposing herself to others. So, we found a way for her to breastfeed our son Heaven even in public places. Thanks to blankets, blouses and brassieres. Heaven was exclusively breastfed for seven months (he was a premature baby) and continued to be breastfed until age 3.

To most women, it was about not having enough milk. So, I started educating women in barangays about the newborn digestive system and comparing baby stomach sizes with calamansi, tomato and egg. On day 1, a newborn baby's stomach is as small as a calamansi. That is why about 1-3 spoons of breast milk is all the baby needs every feeding. That is why a few drops of breast milk is all that flows on the first day. And that is the miracle of breastfeeding.

This is the miracle that happened when our daughter Skye lived for five months. Born with Trisomy 18 condition, Skye was not expected to live even for a day. But she fought for five months and was nourished with the little milk that Aires could muster and the volumes of breast milk donated by kind strangers.

Aires and I saw how a mother's milk can save the life of another mother's child. Our passion to convince women to breastfeed finds another dimension.

But when a woman chooses still to formula feed her baby, I never use the card that reads: "If you love your child, you will breastfeed." She just needs to know that, in the end, it is still her decision that will prevail.

I am just glad that this woman is not my wife.

Boses: Powerful without words

When no words are spoken, you hear it loud and clear.

This is the magic of the film "Boses."

Directed by Ellen Ongkeko-Marfil and written by Froilan Media and Rody Vera, Boses starts as a story of abuse and ends as a story of hope. Left by his wife, a father (Ricky Davao) manhandles his son, Onyok, (newcomer Julian Duque) when he gets inebriated. Onyok is rescued by social workers and taken to a center for neglected and abused children. Traumatized, Onyok has not spoken any word since the abuse started. A chance meeting at the center brings Onyok and a violinist (Coke Bolipata) together.

Onyok turns out to be a music prodigy, learning to play classical pieces under Coke's care. The film begins to make a statement about the power of music to mend hearts and heal broken souls. In the end, the father tries to redeem himself but the film leaves it to the audience to hope that this man can change for his son.

"Boses" finally gets a chance to be seen in commercial cinemas. Filmed in 2008, "Boses" has gone to countless screenings in schools, churches, auditoriums and even outdoor plazas here and abroad.

UNICEF supported the film with a production grant. As UNICEF communication officer, I had the great privilege to introduce the film at its premiere one rainy night in July 2008 at the Cinemalaya Fest held in the Cultural Center of the Philippines. I remember Direk Ellen coaching me to thank the audience for coming to see the film despite the heavy rains.

I have seen many times how "Boses" has touched the hearts of children and adults alike. The film opens from the child's perspective, from inside a closet, hiding from his abusive father. This is what the film asks its audience to do. See and hear an unkind world from the eyes and ears of a child who cannot speak and is now trying to find his voice.

26 and 27

26 and 27 are milestone numbers to us.

26, of course, is Heaven's hello. 27 is Skye's goodbye. 

We can't help but play our "would-have" and "what-if" imagining of a life with Skye. Kuya Heaven will be a wonderful big brother. If you ask Heaven now, what will he do if his sister is still alive. His response is quick. "I will take care of her." How? "I will feed her. I will play with her. I will not punch her."

Nanay will surely dote on Skye. She will exclusively breastfeed Skye. She will dress her up. Skye will definitely be Aires' Mini-Me.

Tatay will be the protective dude. Not even a fly can hurt my Skye. I will have Heaven assist me when I sing songs and tell stories to Skye. We will sing the ABCs and count 123. 

Simple math tells us that 1 is the difference between 26 and 27. But we know otherwise. Between 26 and 27 spans a lifetime. 

This boy is five

This boy is five. He can eat on his own. It may take him about an hour to finish a meal but that also means one hour of vibrant chatter.

This boy is five. He can change on his own. He may not be able to fold his shirts and shorts but he can surely dunk these straight into the hamper.

This boy is five. He can hop on one leg. He may get unsteady and trip occasionally but his sense of balance is remarkable.

This boy is five. He can write his complete name. He may write in uneven strokes but the letters are outrightly legible.

This boy is five. He can draw and paint. His doodles are about monsters, aliens and spaceships but the stories that come with them are just as warped.

This boy is five. He can sing really well. He may have forgotten his Bahay Kubo but he has mastered the first two lines of Lupang Hinirang and the chorus of Won’t Give Up.

This boy is five. He can solve 42-piece puzzles. He may need a little help but he solves them faster than other adults can.

This boy is five. He can remember a lot of things. He may sometimes forget to say Thank You but he never forgets who, what, where, and when.

This boy is five. He always asks why. He can be overly curious but there’s no escaping his inquisitive mind.

This boy is five. He loves to play with other kids. He can sometimes go “This toy is mine” but he knows how to be polite, respectful and kind.

This boy is five. And we can’t wait to find out what he will be like when he turns six but, now that he is five, we are simply ecstatic.