Angel Baby

A friend commented that Rou fits the description of an "angel baby" after spending some time with us.

There is a certain author of baby literature, who categorized little ones into four general groups. On one end of the spectrum are the ones who require a lot of attention, where the slightest things would cause them discomfort and irritation. On the opposite end of that spectrum lies the angel babies, who are generally easily appeased and quiet, and who only cry when the need arises.

Well, Rou is indeed generally easy going and hardly cries (save for the training at nap times, and when she's hungry) and I attribute this entirely to God's grace.

Almost immediately after my confinement, I developed severe pain in my upper back and when attacks strike, would have me bedridden for two whole days. The first of these two days will see me doing nothing but throwing up. Nothing can stay in my stomach, not even water; I'll spare you the details. Once, we even called the doctor in for a house visit as I was unable to move, let alone get out of the house for a consultation. The trigger of these attacks later moved from the back to the stomach/ digestive system and we probably saw a total of six to seven episodes in the span of half a year.

On these occasions, Derod would take urgent leave from work. Our parents would take Gabe to their place and Derod would be the main caregiver for both Rou and I. He would bathe, change and take care of Rou, while getting me the medication and food I need, not to mention helping out with the little things around the house. I would be lying in bed, coping with the mental and physical symptoms of depression (which we later discover was aggravated by the drugs that curbed the vomiting). Once every three hours, when it was Rou's meal time, Derod placed her next to me on the bed. With nary an ounce of nourishment, and dark clouds plaguing me, I continued providing for the little girl.

Derod lost a lot of sleep, shouldered the burdens of the household and had to manage a wife diagnosed with depression. I lost sense of who I was; I couldn't recognise myself anymore. My thoughts were gloomy, I had panic attacks, experienced physical symptoms at the slightest presence of stress, and of course, lost lot of weight, rapidly. With each attack, the weight loss became more pronounced, to the extent that my skinny jeans dangled on my hips. We lived each day at a time, sometimes I lived each hour at a time.

Through it all, Rou was an angel baby. If God had not made her who she is, we would not have survived this period like we did. So, my dear little angel baby, you are a living testament of God's grace to me, and the family.

Special thanks to Derod for being the perfect husband, Gabe for being the generally-easy boy and a caring and gentle big brother to little Rou, our parents for looking after Gabe, livingjoyfully for being the friend who cried with me and loved me, firstjohn for opening her doors to the kids when attacks struck, auntie cg for being the perfect listening ear and human counsel. Most of all, God who watches over all and provides for every need.

We stand not on shifting sand, but on Christ the Rock, the Cornerstone.