one of those days

it's a typically cloudy today, the kind belgium is (in)famous for.

it's the time of day that is also most peaceful. husband and son are taking a nap and it's quiet in the apartment.

you can hear yourself think and sometimes you wish you couldn't.

baby kimi gets ever bigger and more malikot in my tummy. it takes me 5 minutes to find a comfortable position on the couch and i spend all night on my left side. if i'm unlucky, my left hip will be a little sore the next day.

out there in the world are a host of female friends and relatives i desperately seek but don't know how to reach. just because. just one person, even gay, to whom i can cling for a moment and let out my fears and frustrations about the coming caesarean section i am bound to have, the helpless post-partum days of healing, and praying that i, we, will be able to provide for baby kimi in the winter months.

thank god for little blessings. when i look out my bedroom window, i see trees in the distance, and the tops are now changing colour. i see remnants of the summer budding in some yellow blossoms, then the more autumnal presence of the light orange and brittle yellow of leaves on the fringe, ready to fall with the slightest wind, and on one tree alone, dark red leaves weighing down the pine-like branches.

i wish i could banish my fears and trepidations. i can recall that the only way i could mask my fear in the past was by talking to someone about it. i did throw my thoughts on the table today, after lunch, and got sticky warm hugs from my eldest son (forever angel) and husband. thank god for the little serendipitous things.

now it's time to put on blinders and not look elsewhere for relief and comfort. it drives my spirit down when i think that way but i can't help it sometimes. i remember the post-partum depression i underwent with my firstborn and i know that this really happens. and i was in social philippines that time. my cousin visited me in the first week, as did my aunt, and some co-teachers from ateneo. then silence for weeks on end while the CS gash in my abdomen healed ever so slowly. i hobbled around for days, wondering if my guts would spill out.

there's a brown bird struggling among the yellow and green leaves of the tallest tree in the distance. two black birds streak across the pale sky above him, oblivious to his plight.