FATHER, MOTHER & SON… for seven days (3rd of 7 parts)

3rd Day (Thursday)

The joyful ride from Tuesday to most part of Wednesday abruptly ended when the lady of my house was ready to give up her one-day old motherhood. My heart bled for Marc Andrei…

He was jostled into this world that fateful Monday night (11:04 PM), but abandoned by the mother. Presented to me at around 8:00 AM that Tuesday, but initially rejected for I needed time to decide. Deprived of privacy and much-needed rest necessary for a newly-born infant when made like the object of a carnival-like spectacle… scrutinized by the entire neighborhood whose desire for something to gossip about is unbelievably insatiable. Pitifully taken by the lady of my house (I was not sure of her reasons… she craved so much to be a mother or she was afraid someone else would take away Marc Andrei). Briefly found a home and the warmth of loving parents but not yet totally shielded from the prying eyes of the people in the neighborhood. And when he was starting to settle down in an abode where he felt he was welcome, suddenly, one fickle-minded spirit would again thrust him back to the limbo of uncertainty.

Marc Andrei… what a beautiful and wonderful being… truly an angel… but unwanted… Marc Andrei did nothing wrong to deserve the kind of treatment he was getting. But what can I do, I can’t be the mother and the father at the same time. I need to work, I can only take care of him at night. I thought of bringing him to Batangas… but it was not as simple as I initially thought it would be.

Then I thought of hiring a nanny…
But I don’t have the extra money…
Besides needed is a house though not cushy …
for the nanny, Marc Andrei and me.

And so… my emotional rollercoaster plummeted so fast in the switchback. On its way down it wriggled through treacherous dips and spins. From the ocean of tremendous joy, I was submerged again in the quicksand of sadness and despair.

With a heavy heart, I dialed the number of Sister Babe that Thursday and told her about the bad news. Still, I would like to shield my the lady of my house from the harsh criticism she may be receiving should people know about her decision. Thus, I told Sister Babe that just in case people in our neighborhood would ask, let it be known that it was I who decided to return to her Marc Andrei.

As always, I prayed that may the best thing happen to Marc Andrei that day.

My wife called up when I was in my workplace and asked what time would Sister Babe be coming to get Marc Andrei. I told her Sister Babe may come on or before noontime.

If in the previous day I was ecstatic telling everyone in the workplace that I have a new son, I just stayed glued in my seat in the office and contemplated. Then I got my phone and uploaded the pictures of Marc Andrei to my desktop computer. I had his first picture as my screen saver. It was a sight to behold but beholding it was a mistake for it all the more thrust me deeper in sadness.

Several text messages were sent to me by my wife that day, trying so hard to explain her side. I decided to respond just once telling her that if indeed she was hellbent on surrendering our parenthood of Marc Andrei, then she must make sure that I would no longer see him when I arrive home. Then I turned off my phones

It was at that time that I needed to talk to that young lady at the other end of my other experience. It was always to her that I ran to whenever I need someone to talk to. But I did not like to bother her anymore about my personal problems, and I was not sure if she was still willing to listen to me. I turned to another friend and told her about my dilemma, my emotional roller coaster the past days, I really didn’t like to do that for it was like painting a bad image of my wife to them.

I was supposed to be home by 5:00 PM. But how would I feel in a “Marc Andrei-less home” and seeing there the fickle-minded spirit that caused his disappearance.

At around 6:30 PM, I walked towards the center of the town. Luckily, I chanced upon old friends in a food stall. I begged that they accompany me at least for an hour and listened to my plight. They heeded my supplication.

They said it was time to drink… so I ordered drinks and PULUTAN… drinks – SALABAT… and pulutan – BIBINGKA.

They did nothing but listen. Admittedly, I am a melodramatic person. Dramatic scenes on boobtube and the silverscreen could easily make me teary eyed. I recounted to them the events in my life the past days, as tears were streamrolling my cheeks. Good, it was dark in the place where we were, they may have not noticed that. But my cracking voice could not hide my sadness and disappointment.

I thanked them for bearing with me. They wished me the best and after they delivered that oft-repeated phrase for problematic people – “We’ll pray for you!” – we parted ways.

I was home before 8:00 PM anticipating the worst that night.

Marc Andrei was still there, sleeping soundly in the divan, the same place where I saw him first when I arrived home Tuesday afternoon. My wife explained that Sister Babe came that morning but she was out of the house and has not returned since then. Thus, our baby was still there. I did not say a word to her, I did not even kiss her as I usually do upon arrival from work.

I gave Sister Babe a call and she arrived 10 minutes thereafter. We had a brief chat. I set the “damage control scheme.” I told her to say whenever asked that we needed to let go of Marc Andrei because we have an obligation to take another baby who we were really eyeing for adoption… that it was I who decided to let go of Marc Andrei, not the lady of my house. Like a knight, I must protect my fickle-minded damsel in distress.

My wife was crying profusely when Sister Babe carried Marc Andrei out of our house… was it love… was it guilt… I was not sure. I accompanied Sister Babe back to their house. I stayed there for one hour. I told her that it was the most painful thing that my wife did to me, it was simply unforgivable. Sister Babe told me to understand my wife but I said I have forgiven her a thousand times for the pains she caused me (the way she forgave me also in the past for all my wrongdoings) but this one is different, this one is hard to forget… that I may not be able to forgive her for it.

When I got back home, my wife was crying… she asked for forgiveness and understanding… there I saw guilt written all over her face… I just nodded and told her that from that night on, a lot of things will be changing.

I went to our bedroom and contemplated about the things that I needed to do. The worst plan I cooked up in my confused mind is to leave the house the following day.

She followed and to my surprise and amazement she asked me to go back to Sister Babe and get Marc Andrei back. What I heard did not make me happy but rather annoyed. Angrily that I retorted that Marc Andrei is not a toy that you dump then pick him up when you realize you still want to use him.

Not five, not ten, but more than twenty times that she pleaded that we take Marc Andrei back. I did not say a word anymore, I just responded by shaking my head.

 (to be continued…)Image


Teacher-Writer Hardpen is my nom de plume. My real name is Massuline Antonio Dupaya Ligaya. Many times I was asked the question, "Why do you write?" I don't write for rewards nor adulation. When I write poems, stories or essays, seeing them completed gives me immense joy and satisfaction. The happiness and sense of fulfillment I feel when completing my works are my rewards. When I teach, I don't work but I play. The classroom is my playground, the students are my playmates, and the subject is our toy. Proud to be me! Proud to be a FILIPINO! TO GOD BE THE GLORY!

Posted on March 23, 2013, in Adoption, Parenthood, Treachery. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: