mY naKed Thoughts

Since I professed to abhor my exhausting underrated yet noble job and I can’t stomach the well-paid peddling ass business, I’m now contemplating of applying a job that hits big time yet requires little of me. There’s a growing business in Philippines now. Be hired as a  temporary mother and have your perpetual womb be rented for only 9 months and presto! You will earn a staggering amount of 1.4 million pesos / US $30,000 in a very short span! Wow! How’s that for a work? amazing? or pathetic?

They are called Surrogate Mothers. They’re compassionate, caring and loving people. Well, so far, that’s what I know. I mean,  who cares about who and what they are in real? If they are paid through their bones to act as surrogate mothers, they’re expected to act the aforementioned as well. Besides, nothing to worry because that’s the easy part of the job. The hardest part is, When the method of surrogacy starts. It begins from choosing the type of method the mother will undergo. 

FIRST, is the “traditional” method where the sperm( from a man) was mixed with the surrogate’s own eggs through artificial insemination. SECOND, is the “gestational” method which is harder, riskier and costlier. Here, the surrogate merely acts as the host. Eggs from another woman are mixed with sperm in a laboratory using a process called in vitro fertilization. The resulting embryo – popularly known as a “test tube baby” - is then planted inside the surrogate’s womb.

I feel the word Surrogate Mother is just sugarcoating its bittersweet meaning to make things plausible to the scrutinising public eye. I’m nonplussed as to, Can being a mother expire for 9 mos. as stated in a surrogacy contract?  When a man who’s a stranger donates his sperm, he is only called a donor. This applies to the strange woman donor as well. How can a woman be called “Mother” whatever her reason is, if she sold or gave away her offspring?! How about the other siblings? Did it occur in their atrophying mind that the “brothers or sisters” has the rights to know each other?

My son Paolo had asked me what’s the title of my latest blog. I told him the initial title ” Womb for rent.” He replied, ”Bahay bata for rent?!”  “Yes, the bahay bata or the house of the baby inside the woman’s body is being rented. They will put a seed to the woman’s body and let it grow and when it comes out, the real parents will take the baby.” I explained tersely. He didn’t reply but I saw on his webcam an oh-my-God! eyes from his naturally chinky eye.

I remember my ever businessminded father once wanted our house to be rented. He convinced us robustly but to no avail. We all refused to commercialise the house. Our  home might be not be a swanky condo to live in but our hearts nestled on it. The convenience and serenity it bring amid all the crying babies and the frugality of it’s structure. We loved our house. We don’t want anyone to botch our house. How much more if it’s my own womb?

A fairy tale story of compassion and love might being told to justify these acts. Some very few women might have altruistic approach on these surrogacy with motive of helping incapable couples to have babies of their own. However, fairy tales don’t always end up beautifully. The end doesn’t always justify the means. There are tons of complications and issues entailing on this. The bottom line, It’s still giving away part of ourselves. To concede in a contract that you are allowing somebody to take over your whole biological system, form a life and rip you out of it in due time. How savage that is to yourself! 

To some people, having no love or lust involved, only the meeting of sperms is a good news. For me, ironically it’s a bad news. I would rather have a baby out of love or lust than have it out of money. However, one who’s body ruled by money, we should expect that emotions are absent as well. Let them be cold as stone walls. Damn the hiding on ” for good cause” reasons coz I don’t buy it. On the contrary, You might say “Nothing personal, just work.” if that’s your motto, then you’re just  a damned freakin machine. A soul less life factory.

Post script: Related topics will follow.

I didn’t realize how beautiful the name is ’till an arab woman was awed in amusement when she knew how we call our grandmothers in Philippines. ”I could  name my daughter LOLA! ” she said. In Saudi, anything that has an ‘O’ in the name sounds dear to them like Soha, Noha, Soli, Sosoo, Baso etc. The more I think of it, the more I seem to agree. It rings compassion and care. Especially when  I associate the name to the person who bears it in our family. It’s indeed such a beautiful name.

We called her LOLA. She was not the typical grandmother full of advices at hand. She didn’t speak too much. Her face didn’t express gamut of emotions. All I could remember plastered on her face always was her refreshing smile. And since I was always searching, plowing greener fields away from home, when I arrived home and did mano to  her she usually asked me, ” Rowena, is that you?!” shouting my precious name thinking I also had impaired hearing..I answered her back, ‘It’s me! your most sexiest grand daughter!” and she just smiled. I didn’t know if her smile was an assent or because she’s tired arguing with me on the bloody title I tagged on myself but then, I love her smile, it radiated through her eyes, raveling the beauty of  her soul.

In retrospect, she taught me the best way of armpit hygiene (blush*) and it works! She was an epitome of altruism, truly a self effacing person, always a stand-by reinforcement to anyone. Any problem the family stumbled upon, she was there.  I always remember her when my mother ran out of money ( which is a usual scenario), she just fished her purse out underneath that flowered pink blouse, the fave of her’s with no questions ask. She treaded regally even with her umbrella cane, refusing the properly made cane for her walking, not a hint of doddering. The lastime I said goodbye to her leaving my lola again for work I said to myself if I’ll take care of her the way I took care of my patient here in the Kingdom, God will surely open His arms wide to let me in on His Kingdom for all my devotions at work. I told her, I feel terrible for taking care of other people instead of her and the family and she just smiled again.

It’s  lovely to marvel at her face. It’s sad that I can never do it anymore. On her bed now with a glass mirrored window, how I wish to see her face again for the lastime. However, distance and time failed me. I don’t want to lament more on her passing away because I know this is what she had wanted. To finally rested after living almost a centennial year of a colorful life.  Up there, I believe, right now, as always, she’s smiling.. 

Post script:

Lola, you will forever be embedded and remembered in our heart and soul. We love you and we miss you so much.. Goodbye lola..

   last wacky X’mas with Lola! Smile , it always gives life!

While the Philippine Congress ponders the distinction of AND & OR , and debating against the Catholic Church which stands firm despite their diffences against UN and WHO’s definition of Reproductive Health and Reproductive Health Care , mothers around the country are agonizing, dying.

The average number of Filipino women who die yearly due to childbirth and pregnancy complications has doubled in the last four years. This is very alarming! This has happened because the help from the related health sectors of the  government were opposed to be rendered for some political reasons. Can church and government be finally united for their people’s sake?

When Katrina Halili was inlove to Hayden Kho, She dismissed the idea of abstinence taught by the church. Perhaps she used contraceptive pills (not the ‘E’ reported on news) which is absolutely a prudent act approved by the dept. of health but considered an abortifacient act by the church.

Good news is, Ms. Halili lusty and nutty did not forget to take care of herself  to not to bear an amiss child. Bad news is, when the Careless whisper video scandal exploded- - it’s not actually bad because there’s news, she’s an actress anyway! So we’ll just leave her on her publicity stunt.

My point is, “Wake up woman!” gone are the days of  SUTTEE  or the widow-burning.  Wives are no longer owned and burned together with deceased husbands. We are not in the life to be a liability of anyone. Be not depend upon the protection of a man, instead be taught to protect ownself.

Church and World Constitutions may forever clash and you have yourself  gawking at the world that crumbles at your face and your doing nothing but waiting for a magic spoon to hit you on head so you will be awakened. Don’t you feel your strength eroded by your dozen kids lined up tagging the fringes of your hair, shirt and skirt with stomach cringing for food? Is your hope that bad days will get over still burning or flickering in the dark lonely night? Do you feel the metastasising of AIDS and other STD’s because of your unawareness of self-precautions when indulging on sex?  Or are you dying of pregnancy complications unaided?

Woman, don’t you feel yourself curled small like a ball, an airhead hearing all the talks and debates on what to do with your health? Or on what to do with you?

Reproductive health Bill maybe approved or not it doesn’t matter anyway. Let’s take in charge, step out of the backseat. ’Tis is our life.

For starters, I once hated my nose! huh! keep on reading and don’t stare at my nose on my photo albums! Secondly, I hated my siblings for having their pointed, aquiline nose, the total opposite of mine. It occurred to me that I might be an adopted daughter because of the way our noses looked differently. I’m the eldest, perhaps there was no licence for the making of me yet and so I was made hastily thus I wasn’t being formed precisely as my sis and bro faces. My siblings knew their edge. I can argue with them about anything till my face goes blue and still I’ll never put my case down not unless they shout out my face a name against my nose. They would say it and I’m tamed. Anyway, I know those were just petty squabbles.

I say, God can blame us when He comes back and see that we still feel and look as ugly as we were when He left us. I am not saying it because of the presence of cosmetic surgeons swarming the world today and  that you can utilise them now to change your nose or your face to ready yourself on His coming. That will be a futile attempt of understanding what beauty is. Cosmetic surgeons though can never beautify our brains. They can never enhance the way our minds work. Indeed it it feels good to be outwardly beautiful. It makes our confidence soar for a moment however we know that people are insatiable beings. Everything is infinite till where our greediness will take us, only God knows.

There’s no litmus test on identifying what beauty is. There is no boundary set for it. It’s all within us, in our perception on things. No one can define us as ugly if we see ourselves  beautiful. Yes, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder but I won’t allow anyone to define me. In United States, thin is a standard  when it comes to beauty but not in African country Mauritania,  which is being plump defines it. Beauty can be revered depends on your basis of it.

My basis of it in a woman is the ability to be authentic, to be passionate and true to what she values even her words raise hell by the disagreements of some people. To raise her voice loud to be heard and soften her heart to listen. To be real in her strength and vulnerability. How beautiful a woman that is.

Kind words and gallant acts. Rigid principles and gentle maneuvers. All those attributed a male to be called a “Man”  much as a beautiful man.

The fact is, God has made everything beautiful from ants to flowers to my nose. I’m saying again He will be disappointed when He comes back and see that we still feel ugly because with all the time He had left us in this world, We should realised by now that beauty is only a reflection of ourselves. The world is doomed when we are in anguished and it’s promising when we are delighted. We are beautiful only if we like it.

Let’s savor every inch of our beauty!. My nose is just awesome!

        ” Mama! Mama!”  with sonorous sounds that will cause tinnitus on ears, one may think it’s a battle cry. But, nope! It’s just my kids voice calling me like they have no other person they can call onto. Indeed, they only have me. Me and them and the world. I have always prided myself with my independence and equanimity. Haughty, you may say but I believed I owe this to myself. Reiterating my words again about single moms is due to the blog I’ve stumbled a while ago. 

I read a lot of single mom’s rantings about their laboring alone for their kids. Deprived by their husband’s child supports. Their wrathful candidness towards their old flames are visible, it snapped my synapses, it affects me. Every word I sensed their seething resentment to the person whom once they shared their bed with.

It’s hypocrisy if I’ll write mirthful words about the father of my kids and It’s unfair as well to broadcast his atrocity.  Everything takes two to tango. We can’t point our fingers to them and save our asses. Bottomline is, we had issues and the relationship didn’t work out. Let’s not make the kids as the casualty of our own personal war. If we have regrets of the past, it’s should only be the time that we wasted.

It always cost me a limb fighting against my family, keeping their mouth shut about what they feel about my kids’ father just so my kids won’t be hurt hearing negative words about their father and hopefully it will pay off soon. When we set aside our personal issues and help our children deal theirs they will soon realise that their mother has acted grace and decency inspite of inner turmoil she’s experiencing and is trying to make every thing easy to them.

Other than the fact that fathers should be supporting their kids, I am also aware that it’s fighting for child’s rights to get what the’yre entitled to when a mother ask for a child’s support. However, call it pride. Yes I guess it is. I didn’t ask anything from their father or help from anyone because I acknowledge the downside of asking it-  it’s dependence.

When you rely on your own and recognizes that the only help you could find is at the end of your other arm, empowering feeling will emerge. No more drama of blaming and whining and complaining. Less expectations, lesser disappoinments.  We only have ourselves to motivate, to push through our limits, to blame and be sorry when things get wrong.

If fathers are not having their share of labor rearing their kids, It’s not your problem at all. It’s their failure. No matter what we do, we can’t force our exes to be involved if they don’t want to. We are just making our kids feel rejected by their fathers if we insist on things. Your responsibility is yourself. Whether  your a single mom or not, part of developing one self is making our back strong to anything heavy laden on our shoulders.

Like the greek titan Atlas, we all carry our own burden. A world to conquer and our children encompass it.