These last few weeks of pregnancy are so murderously torturous. Not mine but the ladies-in-waiting. Ana would be as pregnant as a polywog but walked everyday meeting her quota of 6 hours every God-made day. That was some determination pumped up by hormones that is otherwise not there when she is not heavy with a child. And each time, each baby came out, it was all worth it.
I have mastered the art of waiting. Waiting for each baby to come out. From Ana to Marie and just two weeks ago, from Anne.
Waiting for Lucy was very zen. Anne took her steps in the most pregnant way as her date was nearing. She wobbled from leg to leg. I would watch her and shook my head. I told myself: "That won't do!" So I would shout from the bridge and call out to my son Juaqui urging him to bring Anne out of the house and go window-shopping where walking would be more entertaining.
Yet Anne was as zen as the pechays growing in my garden- slowly and quietly. I managed to trick her to walk with me one day and brought her uphill and down, around the streets of Beverly and back. Thank God I did not kill her! I was worried after for she is not a spartan like Ana or the swimmer like Marie. She is a doctor and she knew what she was doing. Yet, there I was, the snooping and meddling MIL.
My son just shook his head when he found out that his wife walked with me. I may be 60 but that is just a number. I can pound the streets of the subdivision with steps that meant war and victory!
Walking with the MIL did not move the baby out of her mother's womb. So I just waited patiently. In fact, so as to keep my mind away from the birth, when, and how, I left for a few days and celebrated my friend Therese's birthday in Cagayan de Oro.
I painted while I thought of the baby and wondered... when do I see her? What do we call her?
I came home and went to the afternoon's graduation of The Little Farm House, where my eldest grandson, Jacob was graduating from preschool. Jose and Sophia were going to perform a dance and so I prayed and willed for the rains in Landingan airport to stop. In the afternoon, I was welcoming and speaking before parents and friends. My phone rang in the middle of my speech. That was my 6th granddaughter's birth unto this world.
Evanna Lucille was born on March 22, 2014. The parents of my grandchildren knew what they want to call their children. I supplied names everytime but none was considered. I am very happy though with all their names!
So Lucy was born on March 22, 2014. Oh the blessings of a newborn! She is pink with bright almond eyes. She is my third granddaughter and the other 3 are boys. I have no idea what the 7th will be but Lucy is firmly and undeniably beautiful just like all these gnomes growing in Frogglerocks.
She is a good reason to go up and down the stairs and to take a bath for. Yes, Justo demands to be given a bath before a Lucy visit. And the dirty two other boys would whisper and hum a lullabye. The 2 girls would come in their floral summer hats and would sit gently beside her. Ziva did manage to pinch Lucy's toe a little bit.
Frogglerocks is happy for the wait! Even the kingfishers are chatting joyfully by the river.
And oh, the arugulas are boastful in the garden, outside where Lucy lives.
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| Evanna Lucille |
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| Lucy and me |
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| Jose, Lucy and Jacob |
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| Sophia, Ziva and Justo |
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| cuddle time |
