Dear Sofia......

An Open Letter to my Firstborn

by: Mizpah Mijares-Yong



To my firstborn, Sofia, I may be writing this letter quite soon for you to read, or even for you to find this blogsite which people like your Mom keeps their thoughts and oftentimes, their fears and troubles thru writing.



Today, as I watch you sleep, I realized it's been 3 weeks and 2 days since we first met; since I first kissed your tiny rosy cheek, since I first heard your cries, as I lay down helplessly naked, shivering from the effects of the anesthesia on that operating table. It was 1:06PM, Monday, July 26, 2010.



The night before your birthday, your Dad and I spent our usual "marriage time". I made the best coleslaw for Dad as a dessert to a simple dinner, we took a stroll around the neighborhood with Kingking while you're lulled inside my belly, and we sat in the couch and watched "The Back-up Plan".



You might have listened to Mom when I whispered to you thru my bulging tummy , "Sofia, Mommy is ready, you can come out now." Your dad didn't like to hear what I've had commanded, or should I rather say, requested you to do because you were only 37-week old by then. I wasn't as patient as your dad, sweetie. You did listen to Mom, you woke me up at 4:30 AM the next day ( in fact, just few hours since I've whispered to you) with my early signs of labor. Your dad, upon hearing that you are coming out got so excited that he kissed me. That one smack on the lips somehow helped me make it through the long and excruciating pains during contractions. As I have been prepared to help you out the natural way, the pain has become more intolerable for me and especially you, my sweetie. We were both in distress, everybody has begun to worry as your heatbeat started to drop. And before I finally lost my voice and strength, I turned to your dad who's been there the whole time holding my hand, and signaled him I need another option -- Caesarian operation. There you go, a contemporary birth method for our precious superstar.



Our first meeting has been kinda dramatic. The pediatrician after cleaning you up, brought you to me as the surgeons were still doing some final touches with the incision they've made. I couldn't hold you yet, so he held you for me, as I gaze at your pretty face. I must have a magical kiss when you stopped crying the moment my lips touched your cheek. I didn't notice the tears were rolling down from my eyes.



Your dad and I have so many hopes and wishes for you when you grow up. I hope you'd have the intelligence and strength like your father; the wit, charm and courage like your mom; a loving and honest heart; and the respect and obedience that every parents deserves.



I shared to you on how you were born, to remind you not about the labor pain your mom has to go through for you, but to show you, you're loved the moment we first heard your heartbeat in my belly. The same unconditional love you'd experience for as long as we, your parents shall live.


And here's a note our German colleague's wife, Silke Otremba wrote to us when you were just 5-day old.


"A baby is like a little "vampire", it takes all your power and sleep, but even one smile gives it back in many ways"