Today, marks the first month of the day, which supposed to be one of those happy days, with the coming of a new bundle of joy. But everything went beyond our expectations.
I was excited about the coming baby. I even announced it to friends.
June 1, past 9 in the morning I saw Jaja and Ading preparing for Raz birthday. I went straight and cleaned myself for breakfast then hit the bed. They brought out the cake and as I dig into the ice cream, I asked rocky road? With eyed wide with excitement, “My favorite!” Jaja answered gigling, “me too!” and we chatted happily about the nuts and everything rocky road has in it.
It was a happy day. Before I went to sleep, Ading and Jaja was preparing to go for a check up. Later that afternoon, I was told that they went home for lunch and went back to the hospital, because Jaja was already in pain.
Around 3 in the afternoon, I had lunch and was preparing for a party when Mommy called. She Said “Naa ko sa hospital, di ta madayon sa party, operahan si Jaja, ang baby di pa ok”, I said “OK” but nothing makes sense, I shrugged it off, excited with the thoughts that I’d see the baby soon, at the back of my mind I was wondering what really went wrong.
While watching TV, eating lunch and chatting with Kleng kleng, Jaja’s sister, Mommy called again, she said to come. I was excited, finally, I will see the baby ahead of everyone.
When I arrived in the hospital, Mommy was at the lobby, she was pacing head down when I saw her. She went straight, briskly towards the room, inside, she told me, “50/50 si Jaja, ang baby gitabang pud”. My tears fell down immediately, I thought the baby has little complications, I didn’t know anything about Jaja. I asked her between sobs what had happened and Mommy said “nag flat line si Jaja and was revived after 20 minutes.” that was too long, her brain need oxygen. Mommy said don’t let Ading see you crying. When I saw Ading, I had to choke my tears and sat at the end of the room, looking outside but I was listening to them.
That afternoon, around 6, we were told that Jaja was transfered to the ICU. Ading and I went to check if we could see her.
Seeing her on hospital bed was heart breaking. She looked lifeless, her eyes open but not seeing. Nothing made sense during that time. I felt like demanding her to get up and live, laugh and chat the way she was. I couldn’t contain myself, choking my tears, I sat there there holding her hands, breathing and massaging to warm it. I was sitting there, watching the nurse busy pumping air manually to help her breathe. I blew what thin line holding me, when the nurse said I need to have well abled companion to do the pumping later that night. I was exasperated, I couldn’t help myself from firing the nurse questions, “nganong wala man moy machine?”, “Dili ba diay pwede makahulam sa lain hospital”, “Basin rent pwede?”, It is not that I don’t want to do help, it was a matter of life and death and the way I see it, they were taking it without urgency. All they could manage to answer me were full of ****, things like there is procedure or permission from whoever but they weren’t doing anything like it. It was frustrating! They were not prepared, in situations that they are supposed to be in control, to let the patient and the family feel that they are more than capable! And they were not prepared of me, me, who knows nothing but the importance of common sense!
I was sitting at the waiting area outside the ICU, when the wife of the other patient told me that she heard me asked those questions, I asked her back if I was wrong, if my demands was inappropriate, she told me, she would do the same given the same situation. I wanted to cry again, so I looked away.
I was there at the waiting area the nurse passed by, pushing what seemed like a cart with a machine on it, I was alert then, something was wrong, 15 or so minutes later, Ading burst out from the ICU, crying. I rushed to his side hugging him, asking what was going on, he managed to tell me, “nag flat line si Jaja”, as I stand there stunned, he went in to the chapel. At a later time, Ading told me that the 3 attempts using that machine to revive Jaja was useless, every time the doctor says clear nothing happens. It was when the nurse went up on Jaja’s bed and manually did the CPR that Ading couldn’t bear to be in there any longer.
I was at the pharmacy when I saw the doctor, he went and stand beside me and told me that only the medicines and the ventilator that are keeping her alive, to prepare and pray. I couldn’t say a word, I could only nod and went back to the ICU.
Around 12 midnight, I took over the manual pumping while Ading tend to his personal needs, made a call and etcetera. At about 2 in the morning, preparations was made for a transfer to Don Carlos. At 3:15, Jaja and Ading and the rest of the team was on their way to Don Carlos, I stood there thinking, what made the hospital wait for many hours before recommending a transfer? Were they that slow to decide? Are they that incompetent? I was told later that Jaja’s family and friends from Bethel was pushing the transfer.
I was left behind. I was trying to sleep the next few hours but I couldn’t. Our room is just next to the NICU, I would sit on the floor for hours watching the shadows of the nurses, manually ventilating Baby Eiula round the clock or I would knock the window to let me see her, fighting for dear life.
Baby Eiula is pretty, she has plenty of curly hair, well defined nose, and pretty lips, had it not because of the tube in her mouth and all those wires attached to her body, she’d be cuddly and cute, but her condition, and those beeping around could keep you at the edge of your tears. You could ask yourself, why is this baby in this small container with wires attached to her body and why not in the nursery room instead?
Baby Eiula was lifeless when she was delivered around noon of June 1. As we were told by the pediatrician, no seconds was wasted to revived her. She was revived and responding but was not given a 100 percent normal recovery. The way I understood it, she will survive but will not grow normal like any other kids, I understood it otherwise.
June 2, the whole morning, Baby Eiula was fighting to survive. Her vitals were fluctuating, she was having seizures, and almost every two hours NICU team would revive her. Everytime I see the commotion of the shadows in the NICU, I would rest my head on the glass, bit my lip and cry in silence, it was very frustrating that you cannot do anything but watch her in pain. Past 5 in the evening, I was roused from the bed when the nurse asked me to come to the OR, I was shocked and asked him back, “OR?” “Why OR?” “Unsay nahitabo?” the nurse could not answer me, instead ushered me to the OR and to the NICU.
It was chaos. Commotion. I know what was happening, but I refused to believe what I was seeing. They were trying to revive Baby Eiula. The resident pediatrician was holding my hands, trying to explain what was happening. That moment when you actually hear what was said yet nothing registers in your head. I didn’t know what to do. I would sit behind the door for what I think like forever, watch the nurses hurrying to and fro from the reflection on the OR glass doors. I would stand, or lean behind the doors, someone would come near me and explain again and again. Still, I would refuse to let them know I understand. Everyone was on their feet, checking, verifying, and trying to explain again what was already explained. Someone was dressing me up with a sterile gown, someone provided me slippers and ushered me near Baby Eiula, while another was talking to me. I saw her. The signs on all the graphics I no longer understand. I saw her heaved her breath in long intervals, and every time, her shoulder and chest bones would show. She was in great pain. She was suffering. I could remember telling baby Eiula, “Kapoy na ka beh?” “Di ka gusto sa amoa?” “Gusto na ka morest?” repeatedly. I couldn’t bare seeing her in that condition so I went to the end of the room, relaxed myself and called Ading, my cousin and baby Eiula’s dad. I told him that baby Eiula is very weak and that her vitals were nose diving, the only thing that keeps her is the ventilator. Her body no longer accepts the medicines, blood were coming out from the tube attached to her mouth. After calling Ading, I was quite at the corner, the nurse called out and told me they are taking the ventilator. All eyes was on me. I might have heard them wrong, maybe I was asked, and I needed to say yes to take her ventilator, I could no longer recall. But I told them if we can wait till her dad arrives? I don’t want them to do it but I saw them removing all those wires and the ventilator from her mouth. I then called my ate, and cried it out to her.
I sat on the floor watching the nurses, busy, cleaning and changing Baby Eiula. I sat there like forever. They were giving me chair but I would not budge. The whole time I was on that position, I kept thinking, was it for the best? Was it for Baby Eiula? Would it be unfair and more painful if I will never allow them to take her ventilator? Was I the one who decided to end her life? Or was it Baby Eiula could not take it any longer? Was I responsible for her death? Will I be able to explain to everyone that it was the best for Baby Eiula? And the thought just wont go away.
I was in that position when Ading, ate and my aunt arrived. I didn’t realized I was there on the same position for more than an hour. The nurses went on to explain what happened, I heard them say that her vitals went nosediving after Raz and Zoe visited, and even after Mommy went to see her. Everyone was trying to explain at the same time, or maybe it was just my imagination. But I heard them, and it hurts my ears.
Past 10 in the evening, Ading called. He gave me instructions for Mommy. Our conversation went like that, it was normal, emotions suppressed, the way Ading would talk, calm and collected. But I know, he was also trying his best to remain calm in the midst of this painful times. But when he hang up, I heaved a deep sigh. I don’t understand if it was relief that Jaja no longer suffers in pain or to calm myself before calling my aunt and facing my ate when I get back in our room. Whatever it was, I had to move and do what was tasked for.
The night went by. We were on the bed, me, ate and Baby Eiula in the middle. Ate and I were talking, like nothing happened with swollen eyes and choking our tears. I would hug Baby Eiula and talk to her, ate does the same too. We sleep like a cat, waking up from time to time till morning and everytime I wake up, I would look and stare Baby Eiula until I feel my eyes heavy and give in to sleep.
Nurses went pouring in the morning. They were relating the previous night events. Relating how I cried and cried while holding Baby Eiula’s tiny hand the whole time the team was trying to revive her. They related my resistance when asked to let go of Baby Eiula. I went out because my tears are trying to escape regardless of my strict disapproval.
I was holding Baby Eiula on my lap, facing me the whole we travelled to the funeral home. I was studying her lips, her eyebrows, everything, trying to memorize her tiny, pretty face.
The wake went on until the 9th of June. On the 10th, they were finally laid to rest.
Janiene Rayos Malalang died on June 2, 2016. Her Death Certificate says, multiple organ failure, resulting from blood loss, resulting from rupture of the uterus.
Eiula Iraya Joe Malalang was born dead of asphyxia on June 1, 2016, she was revived and died at 5:50 pm the next day.
To all who cried with us, mourned with us and prayed with us, may God find you and provides the desires of your heart. God bless you for being a cheerful giver in those trying times.