I ran the half-marathon course of the Run United Philippine Marathon last October 5th. I knew I wasn't going to hit a sub-2, but I felt stronger compared to my last 21k race. This time, my training was more robust and I finished at 2:12. Not my best and could be better, yeah. But what was truly rewarding was the steam I had left towards the end, like I wasn't all used up or exhausted. The feeling at the finish line was to want to go through the race again. Beaded beautifully in sweat, that medal dangling on my chest, I asked myself, "When's the next one?" The endorphins kicked in my head, I looked at the open sky, and smelled the 6am air rising from the grass of the race village. I'm walking slowly, stretching, but I'm high, as though earth is moving on my favor.
Here's to the fate that we love, and everything we do again and again. We squander this love, and do not surrender to just a single piece of joy. We say, “Was that life? Well then, once more.”
A few days ago, D. and I received an answer to the question I asked myself after the race. The bun in her oven is six weeks and baking, coming this July 2015.
I remember our reactions when we first saw the results on the pregnancy test kit, or when we went to the doctor to confirm. We didn't jump for joy. I didn't announce it to the neighbors nor did we post it on social media. We had a more sober reaction. It called for a drink. I opened the chilled bottle of Stolichnaya in the ref, and made a vodka seven. It was calm, quiet, celebratory toast. Our reaction did not at all mean that we weren't excited. Our excitement remains unwavering as our happiness has just multiplied. This time we're just more complacent. The first experience of having a child will not diminish that of our second. We're stronger now, as some of the fears that we've known before will be assuaged by experience.
And we are so happy for Kuya I. We will be able to grant both of them the opportunity, the powerful bond with a sibling. "I hope it's a boy!" He says. He wants to call the baby Human Torch, and we all could be the fantastic four. Hearing him say that, we light up.
We know that the seemingly irreversible dysfunctions of this country, the declining state of the environment, the mere difficulty of living, of having another mouth to feed, makes one rethink the prospect of bringing another child into the world. We knew though, in our hearts, that having a child, and this time a second child, is a repeated expression of our profoundest affirmation of hope. We know for a fact that with our first one, we were not hardened by the daily grind, nor were we disheartened by the chores, errands, exhaustion, the changing of diapers, or miscellaneous surprises that caught us blindsided before. We loved it, we loved being parents, and being at our best at raising children who will be wiser and respectful towards life and the lives of others.
We look forward to more of the reading, of watching how a child’s innocence form itself into consciousness, a butterfly coming out of a cocoon. We look forward to the smell of baby cologne wafting through the air, crisp linen scent, the subtle sweetness it leaves in the air. Because in our minds, our souls were stirring, singing in a chorus, and we started seeing ourselves in a circle of four.
Yes, we are ready. We are ready to love and give everything, all over again.
