Friday, June 29, 2007


Inspired by Stef's post on how she spotted God while killing time in the airport, waiting to see if she could get a seat to the US, I decided to come up with my own list of places, people and things that I've spotted God in this week.

  • In that gorgeous baby as she lies in my arms, one hand on my breast, as if keeping it in place; one foot resting on my arm, tiny toes kneading my flesh; making contented sighs and grunts as she makes like a vacuum and feeds.
  • In the text messages from generous mommies who answered my call for donations for a sick little baby who can only take breastmilk.
  • Inside the refrigerator, where the Dole Mandarin Orange Fruit Cups are chilling--pasalubong from The Hubby who is learning my love language.
  • In the text messages from my mom, who continually encourages me and thinks I'm getting better at this mommy thing, even when I make Raine throw up like the Exorcist while playing seesaw.
  • Outside, in the garage where the Boo and Chloe, the dogs, delightedly sleep in the shade of huge plants The Hubby bought, thinking that they have their own private jungle.
  • In the kitchen, where the ever trustworthy Aling Lourdes is cooking spicy eggplants (only had to teach her once), giving me time to do other things like blog (and supposedly work).
  • In my Sent folder, where proof that I have finished and sent off edited articles and recommended lineup for the next three issues of my magazine lies.
  • And in me--a little more grace, a tiny bit more patience, a little less stress, a lot less worries. And a lot less weight :)

So where have you spotted God this week?

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

While I Was Sleeping

The Hubby and I have never been a "romantic" couple, in the flowers-and-chocolates sense. The Hubby is more the practical type who would buy me an optical mouse rather than a bouquet of flowers. Most of the time I am delighted with his gifts, though I wouldn't mind the sweet, romantic gestures every now and then. Then I realized that The Hubby does do those sweet, romantic things. Only, he does them while I am sleeping:

  • Last night, he operated on my dearly departed laptop to retrieve my hard disk, and he transferred all my files to another hard disk. And he did this even if he had other projects to finish, which keep him up till 4AM.
  • The other night, I forgot to put on my bandage, and I semi woke up to him carefully wrapping the bandage around my hand.
  • When I was a very pregnant, very hot momma (literally), he'd have all the fans pointing at the bed, full force, then he'd go to sleep beside me, wrapped in a fluffy blanket.
  • When Raine cries (and he's still awake), he changes her diaper, soothes her, and wakes me up only if she needs to feed.
  • When I fall asleep in bed, reading, he puts away my book and takes off my glasses--and puts it somewhere I can easily grope for it.


Yesterday, 5 June, was the third year anniversary of the day The Hubby proposed marriage inside the car in the middle of a muddy parking lot at Sonya's Garden, with an apathetic carabao as witness. I'm glad I said yes.

God Bless This Cow

Yesterday, I donated 25oz of breastmilk to a total stranger. Her baby boy has been in the NICU the past two weeks, and breastmilk is all his poor little tummy can tolerate. His mommy has run out of milk, which is not surprising, considering all the stress that she's under. That little boy needs a continuous supply, about 20-24oz a day.

As I gave away Raine's entire stash, I was overwhelmed by how blessed I am. I have a beautiful, healthy baby. I have an overabundance of breastmilk, enough for my baby, and enough to bless others with. I have a great breastpump, which allows me to harvest quickly and painlessly. I have a supportive husband, who encourages me to pump, and was all for donating the milk.

I also realized how distant from God I've been. I haven't read my bible since I gave birth. I haven't attended cell, and I haven't gone to service. My prayers are more of "Lord, please let Raine stop crying," or "Lord, please, one more hour of sleep!" Yet through my inattention, God continues to be there for me, and even if I tend to be an ungrateful wretch, he still continues to bless me.

Isn't it amazing? Thank you, Lord.


For those who also want to donate breastmilk, let me know, so I can hook you up. Milk banks are out of milk, so as Weng said, every ounce counts. I'm really grateful to be able to give milk--I am now a Supercow with a purpose.