A Man at Fifteen

I was told many times during my pregnancy seven years after Ana, that the baby would be another girl. I was so pretty, they said, and it is believed by the elders here that when a mother is pretty during pregnancy, most likely the baby would be a girl. I probably was blooming that time, not for that reason. I was beaming because I thought Ana would be my only child and after so long, I was blessed to have her sibling. It was a difficult second pregnancy, though. My blood sugar rose to three times the normal, and I had to inject insulin, through my bulging belly everyday up to my expected delivery. My asthma, too, made matters worse.

Valentine's Day in 2000, my water broke. I swore I would not give birth on Valentine's, yet, there it was, water trickling down my legs. To the hospital we went, and started the process of labor for next twelve hours or so. The pain progressed to more than the normal labor pains, in fact, it became excruciating. My OB-GYN assured me it was just the labor pains. I knew there was something terribly wrong. On the way to the delivery room, I told my anaesthesiologist on duty I was dying of pain. They checked on the baby's heartbeat as soon as they could, and learned that the heartbeat seemed to be slowing down. They had to cut me open and get the baby out right away, my OB-GYN whispered to my ear. I was going nuts with the pain and the thought that the baby would die.

I only believed everyone telling me after the procedure that the baby made it, was when he was wheeled in my room the following day. My knees wobbled in weakness, my tummy felt like it was going to burst, like I had tons of bricks tied to my waist. But I had to get up, to be able to hold him. My OB-GYN insisted I walk from my bed to the baby's crib. I made it to the crib, barely alive. But my baby definitely was. 

He was named after his two Lolo's. Edgar Antonio. 'Aidan' was given as his nickname, taken after the actor Aidan Quinn, whom I watched in the movie, 'Legends of the Fall' . 'Balong' stuck as his other name when he was a little boy, an Ilocano term of endearment which literally means 'my son'. He was always moving around when he was little, he could not be still, except when Looney Tunes is on tv. He would be propped up on the sofa, with his milk bottle dangling between his teeth, eyes only on the cartoons. Looney Tunes soon became Animal Planet. Then there was a time he was obssessed with Filipino films, at the Cinema One channel. National Geographic soon became his obssession, together with the History Channel. He loved animal toys, we had a box of toys enough to build ten zoos if the animals were real. He had us buy a croc replica which looked so real, it scared all of us at home. He had the same fixation with snakes. 

These days, he reads. A lot. He taught himself to play the guitar. I enrolled him in guitar classes one summer for a few sessions, then he was on his own. I asked him to learn 'Blackbird' by the Beatles after watching Sarah Maclaughlan do her version. I wanted to sing like Sarah, so he learned the song, and I attempted to sing with him on the guitar. Of course it was the worst version ever. In school, he is always into something: teatro, science fairs, competitions. Saturday is still a school day for him, always in practice, in training. He went to Pangasinan to compete for a journalism stint, and when he lost his text message was : 'sorry, mom.' He is again travelling to Tuguegarao, to compete for an academid friendship meet among sister Catholic schools. When he asked for the fees we needed to pay for that and his upcoming prom, his text message was: 'sorry, mom. ang daming gastusin.' His Ate and  Dad seems more excited for his upcoming prom, told him to enjoy that day as it is once in a lifetime, only to be informed that he is emcee for the prom. So, out with the giddiness for him and his partner. He will be busy prom night.

He is always busy. Last night, again seated in our happy place, I looked at him staring into space, thinking of perhaps answers to assignments as he was holding a pen with a notebook to write on. I asked him, 'don't you get tired of thinking?'. To which he replied: 'mom, it is not as if i had a choice.' I expected that reply. By now, we finish each other's sentences. Ana introduced spoken poetry to both of us, but now, he is the one who shows me the best performances on YouTube. We both are now in awe of Rudy Francisco, this guy who wrote and performed 'A Love Poem'. It was Sarah Kaye at first, years back, though he likes Phil Kaye better now. 

We went out on a mother-and-son date yesterday in Cafe Esperanza, this quaint little place tucked in a small corner in front of the plaza. The place saw my kids grow up, where they ate cream puffs and chocolate cakes when they were kids, then pasta and 'sinanglao na may kanin' now that they are older. In between spoonfuls of 'palabok' for me and baked spaghetti for him, we talked about his friends in school. Then he showed me tricks on my phone I had no clue about. Showed me his phone and the tricks he could do with it. We capped our 'dem deep conversations' as he calls them, in agreement about one thought: we all live our lives with a responsibility for others; that this world is not just about the 'self', and most important: be here, now, in the present.

It was time to buy his stuff for Tuguegarao, so we went back to the car. He plugged in his phone and listened to his music: he had a Jackson Five song, a Beatles-styled song. I smiled. We liked the same music, too. While driving, I was thinking, goodness my kids are grown-up. While they are still babies in more ways than one (both of them send me a text like: 'mom.' just that. and i know for sure there is a crisis brewing somewhere), they seek my 'validation' about their feelings at certain times or my opinion on their thoughts; they both have evolved into adults so fast, I did not see it coming. It is not so much of regret that I was absent most of the time Aidan was growing up. He simply told me, in his own polite and proper way that he felt alone most of the time because Ate Ana and I are not at home. But he told me, he copes. I can never play that part back in rewind, my absence. I can only try to make up for it the best I can.  It is the letting go of my son whom I almost lost at his birth, to the outside world. It is the difficult facing of the inevitable, that one day soon, I will have to wait to be invited to his life, rather than impose myself in it. I felt more than simply love for Aidan yesterday, I respect him and his individuality more than ever now. And I have this deep admiration for the man he has become. At fifteen.