I am a fan of column on Philippine Daily Inquirer "Youngblood"(It was an influence of my immediate boss Mam Lutz). I admire the young people who shares their thoughts about life. I am just fascinated with the talent of a young persons. Bakit ako... hindi ako naging writer ay gusto ko naman magsulat. I always have a hard time to compose a paragraph just to say what's in my mind. And of course I admit I have a grammatical and composition problem. Huh! Aminado talaga ako dun pero sorry malakas lang ang loob ko.(I have a little brave heart) And no one can stop me to share anything on my own language. Today....and every day, I am living on this mantra.
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| From picture qoutes |
Life is about dreams. It has a struggle in between realization but that's the way you can see greatness of living. We always soar high and be brave because that's what it takes and.......
I am touched with today's post on PDI. So simple write up yet so perfect for me.
Reblogged!
Little brave hearts
When I was a child, I always dreamed of having a baby
sister, and it led me to much fascination with the “Baby Alive” doll,
which has features like that of a human baby. The doll became a trend in
school. Whenever a classmate would bring one, we would gather around
like busy bees buzzing “Wow!” and “Ah!” and admiring the “celebrity
toy.”
But as much as I wanted to have a Baby Alive doll, my mother
wouldn’t buy me one because she considered it add-on clutter in the
house. I shed ocean of tears, but she didn’t give in to my strategy. I
understood that it was her way of disciplining me.
So while I enviously watched my classmate minister to the doll
with a milk bottle, comb its hair, change its “always dry” diaper, and
cuddle it like it’s a real baby, there I was, holding good old
Chippy-Chippy, my stuffed-toy dog. Of course, Chippy-Chippy was my
favorite, but I didn’t want a dog for a sibling. I craved that Baby
Alive doll so much; it would have been the closest thing to a baby
sister I could have.
In the end, I accepted peacefully that I would never have the
doll that I persistently pleaded with my mom to buy for me (in vain),
and learned to live life as an only child. Surprisingly, however, God
still granted me a childhood dream. I was not given that doll 16 years
earlier, but I received a more precious gift years later—the opportunity
to care for the cuddliest and most serene of human beings: newborn
babies.
I am part of a hospital team that cares for newborns. As a “big
sister” to these little ones, I feed, bathe, clothe and hush them to
sleep. I appreciate both the “cuteness” and the seriousness of the job;
it’s not just a toy you’re carrying, there’s a life in your hands, which
is a no-nonsense responsibility.
I admit it, sometimes the temptation of hugging them lovingly,
kissing their rosy, chubby cheeks and smelling the baby scent of their
skin is irresistible. However, there are also instances when my eardrums
nearly explode from their loud cries, which sound like bombs of
demands: “Feed me now! I am hungry!” Or “Hurry up, change my nappy, I am
wet!” Or “I’m bored in this crib! Pick me up!” And so I would.
It’s also a test of patience whenever I encounter a baby who is
sleepy during feeding time; I am ignored to death. Moreover, there are
some babies for whom feeding is a complicated process, and would cry out
of frustration—and that’s one heck of a challenge for both the babies
and myself. They will mess with you big-time, but you can never mess
with them. You cannot blame them for not speaking the words you would
like to clearly understand, because babies cry to communicate; you
cannot discipline them to wake up instinctively every two or three hours
just so they can consume their required milk intake.
And you can’t force newborns to consume their milk in 10 minutes
when their swallowing reflex is not yet developed. If it’s hard for you
to make them drink, likely it’s harder for them to gulp. Thus, a cliché
came to my mind: “It’s the first step that is always the hardest.” It’s
the whole truth for every human being regardless of age and status.
There are times in our life when we can’t do something the way it
should be done. Maybe because it’s new to us, and it’s a first-time
experience. We feel a mixture of excitement and fear whenever we’re out
of our comfort zone, and life has so many “firsts” that we need to
surpass to keep moving forward. And I think, uniquely made by God, that
this is also true for newborns, who are learning to live life outside
the comfort of their mother’s womb. They were accustomed to swim in the
amniotic fluid, and suddenly, the next thing they know, they are out in
the world, breathing the same air we breathe, exerting effort to feed
through sucking and needing someone or something to keep them warm.
Everything’s totally new for them. Striving to live and thriving
to become what their parents wished them to be make up the challenge.
It’s not a race, it’s a journey.
Being a humble worker in a hospital nursery, and having been
assigned to the Neonatal ICU, I witnessed the different journeys that
babies go through. It made me see that babies are not only bouncing
cuteness and sweetness, they are also warriors. Newborn babies are at
their most vulnerable stage in life: They endeavor to survive outside,
detached from their tiny world in their mother’s womb and trust their
fragile body to adjust to the new environment.
Witnessing this journey, I am awed by how parents become pillars
of bravery for their tiny warriors. I salute those parents who, seeing
their babies different from others or born prematurely, are more
deepened in faith in God, and become strong to face the situation, and
are patient to wait. They continue to love life and others, and,
whatever may happen, will still embrace every tomorrow with light and
hope. They are definitely their baby’s heroes.
I may not be staying with these babies forever, but my admiration
will. These little brave hearts endure their condition, with tubes in
their throat, mouth, or tummy, repeatedly poked with intravenous needles
in their extremities, a blinding light atop their incubators or cribs
that serves as phototherapy (minimizing or preventing jaundice in them).
They suffer through a number of procedures or surgeries, and countless
of times strange hands will touch, press, or hold their little bodies.
Some of them will make it through easily, some with difficulty and some
will not make it at all. It doesn’t matter. What I believe important is
this: The struggle to live life is already the bravest thing a baby can
do to be their mom and dad’s little warrior.
Rmay L. Samarita, 24, is a nurse at the Makati Medical Center.
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