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Lacy beady sequiny white! 🙂
Source: All White
QA life isn’t just about qa, calib, reports, memo’s, MBR, and so on….We also know how to live life to the fullest!!!!!!!!!
We can be serious…………
At work..
Serious with my foods……
We go out………….. Â for breakfast…..
Lunch….
Coffee…….
While waiting for the coffee…
Hot fudge….. hehehe this is for Mae….
Dinner…….
Team eating…
Party………….
Party…………
Party…………
QA can host………
With the Big Boss!!!!!
But he is actually shy………
Sing….
QA can glam………
Goof around…….
Sleep!!!!!!!!! We need to rest, too….
Contemplate what to do next!?
Go out…….
Play bahay-bahayan…
Have photo with an artista haha
Failed in Sup Calib!?
Shoot the sleepy head……
have fun with the locals…… eeep, going to meet the locals pa pala….
with the view…..
And say good bye..
Last day, last calib..
What if I’m gone?
Who would take care of them?
Who would look after them?
I don’t want people to depend on me too much.
That even trivial things I know they can take control of and manage.
I want them to learn to live by, without needing me too much.
I love it that I can help.
But I am afraid that those things will be left
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.
It was indeed foggy for this pix to turn out like this. But it was still a happy, tiring, giving up (almost), satisfying trail to Mt. Apo and back.
The sudden ascent from the drop off point and after enjoying the water from a river trek was a turning point to continue or not, it was a breath ceasing moment where my tears, sweat, breath and will was all mixed up together.
It was all ascent, and a few meters descent. Finding your trail from the bushes, tall grass, mud, boulders and moss or even even from waters where all traces of trails vanishes.
The two days ascent was all breath taking, including the picturesque view and deceiving turns and mountain tops that I thought is the peak. For me, it was to console myself of what I have gotten into. Apart from the tiring trail up, the other thing you can feel is how sticky I am from sweat, the fact that I only brought one trails outfit and several sleeping garments, evident through the pictures I have wearing the same clothes from day one to four! Hahahahaha! But it was still beautiful, the only thing I regretted is being a bitch sometimes, of my own misgivings.
It was on day three, our descent from the peak to Lake Venado that I started singing a song “di na jud ko muusab!” until day four and even until today. I can never discredit nor hate Mt. Apo for what I went through, but instead, I love it and will never forget getting there on a slow pace (according to our guide) up and back.
It was the first time I ever trekked, and I conquered the highest mountain of the Philippines, the Mt. APO!
The hardest thing for me is not doing the thing I know I can because I do not have the right to do so, in the first place. I wanted to let him know everyday how and what I feel for him. I wanted to say sorry and thank you for all those he has done for me. I wanted to run to him, but I do not have the right to do so, and it hurts. I wanted to be in his arms to shield me from all the harsh thing in this world. I wanted to be near him, to be there wherever he may be. Â It’s 2016, and still I haven’t change one bit. I wanted to let him know everything that has happened to me, but I know it would burden him, because I no longer matter to him. I wanted to… God knows how much I wanted to… and God knows how I tried to keep myself from from doing so, because I do not want to burden him, and I cannot bear hearing empty words.
I prayed for his freedom, and still praying. I know he doesn’t care about me, he only reciprocates the literal way he can, giving the words I wanted to hear, but I know it was empty and it makes me even more pathetic.
I am thinking of how I can help him get his freedom while I am conditioning myself that part of his freedom doesn’t include me. Maybe, that is the one great gift I can give him, his freedom and without me. It hurts when I think about it today. But it would hurt more if I will keep expecting a person who will never be mine. I wasted my chance, and now that I do not have it, I must accept it. Though I still long for him…. I do not know until when will I be like this. Until when my sanity would keep me. Until when my heart no longer hurts.
I can only pray to God that He finds the right happiness for me and for him. Â I know I am stubborn, and I don’t want to let go, but there is no painful way of letting the person know you still hold on when in fact he doesn’t, right even from the start. I have read somewhere that for having someone in your life, both must hold hands to keep the bond strong, but if I am the only one holding on, I have to let go no matter how it hurts, because there is no point in holding on to someone who doesn’t and cannot hold you the way you do, the way I do, the way he used to. I wasted that chance, and now it is my chance of letting him find his own happiness. And I can only pray for that.
This man is the one man I have prayed and is still praying. God knows the desire of my heart, and one day I know God will give me the right person, the right answer and the right time for all my prayers. It may be him or not, I cannot tell.
I will be thinking of you at all times.
I will be praying for you.
God knows, I will. and God knows I am on the path to healing. For God is one great healer, and I know with my might and my desire to get healed, I will be one day.
I love you so.
I have been feeling so down and ugly no matter how I try to dab makeups on my face to look beautiful, paste a smile on my face and force to be alive and happy when my heart is in sorrow. I feel like crying. I want to cry, but I have to be brave.
This morning, I decided to do everything that I can for the person I love, thinking and hoping I will have no regrets whatever happens at the end.
A second chance? I cried for another chance. No matter what it takes. No matter what I have to sacrifice, no matter how guilty I am. I broke my own promise, to be with the person I keep running back.
I told him how many times I tried to forget him, how many reasons I made up to forget him and how many times I have to think of ugly things to forget him! But I can’t! Why!? Why can’t I forget him? Why do I keep running back to him? I don’t understand myself either.
I told him I once asked God to give him back to me. Once I was travelling, I remembered him and wondered how he is. I thought and ask God, “Lord, please give him back to me, please?” Then I realized about his status, no, I didn’t mean to kill his then ex-wife when I thought, unless she is dead, then I can have him. Little did I know that he was already separated during that time.
I brushed that thought off and forgotten. When I got home, I got a news related to him, about his mom. I went back to the city and looked for him, and I found him. We were at the opposite end, five to six hours travel separates us, but it did not stop us from communicating until we decided to meet. I was reluctant. But I thought, I will do this for closure.
The closure that I expected never happened. It opened another opportunity to be with him once again.
When he sent me off, I was in shamble. I don’t want to leave his side. I do not want to leave him again.
The day of my flight to Cebu for a next day flight to Doha, I was inconsolable. I was crying! I do not want to leave!
We were exchanging messages all though the day, and the more I wanted to wail and lie on the ground to ebb the pain I felt during that time. Why does it have to be this way? I can only question, but no one will be able to give me an answer which will help me ease the pain.
I left Davao with a heavy heart. We both decided to try to work things between the two of us. It made me feel secure, secure that I can love him, and he to me.
I was offloaded on the day of my flight to Doha due to visa concern. I needed to send my passport and copy of my visa to the embassy of Qatar in Manila and I have to wait until they send it back to me before I can fly to Doha. It was a mix feelings.
I told him what happened. I asked him if he can come to Cebu and meet me while I wait for my passport, but instead we decided I come back to Davao. It was the shortest three days and two nights. The day he has to send me to the airport, I was again reluctant to leave. I did not ask any what if’s why I have to leave instead of staying.
I was happy despite the distance we have to go through. He called me most of the day to comfort me, to encourage me and to cheer me up while I was looking for work in Doha. I was feeling so low most of the time, I was getting frustrated not getting hired every time I applied and every time an interview ended. And yet he is there, constantly on my side. I missed him that it hurts so much. But I have to go on.
Then I finally found a job. We were going through a lot. I was being bullied by my boss who later courted me. I would cry and think of resigning, but I don’t want to lose my job. I persisted and he is there with me. Until I could no longer contact him. I cried so hard after several attempts, it happened many times. I cannot continue guessing what is going on when I know what is going on. I was afraid to know why, so I ended our relationship before he could tell me the truth and hurt me. I used his worries with his family as my excuse. He never explained, did not say anything. He just accepted my decision. He just agreed with me and it hurts more, because he did not even attempted to fight for US. It happened so fast, but it left me wounded even until I went home. I decided to see him, but he declared he already have a girlfriend, it hurts more. I was trying to forget him, all those times. I distanced from him. I could always come and see him, but it would be unfair. I could hurt other people by meddling and by getting in between.
Today, a few days back, I decided to tell him the truth. The truth that I was never really over him. That no matter how it hurts to forget him, I just couldn’t. I am one tough person, but with him, I just couldn’t do anything. I am no tougher than my pretense that I can live life without him. I wanted to shout for him. Be with him. Do something for him, but I cannot. I don’t want to part from him.
What hurts is I am just an option. A spare tire. Someone who doesn’t mean that much anymore. I am jealous. I wanted to be as considerate and fair to his woman. But deep inside I wanted to die. Why can’t it just be me? Why do I have to beg for a few hours of his time? Why does it have to be this way? And why do I choose to be this way?
Now, I am asking him the question that I wanted to ask since the last time we saw each other.
If I am and will be with him until what God decides for us.
I am afraid of his reply, but I guess, no matter how painful it would be, I have to accept it. Because there could never be a relationship with a one sided commitment, my commitment.
I told him, I would wait for him. God has given him back to me, not once but many times. And I want to wait for the time, the right time. God’s time.
I am asking him if I could ask him the question. I told him to be honest. And I am waiting for his reply and confirmation that he would give me an honest answer.
Nothing.
Nothing yet.
I asked him if I can be the only one, even though it would take forever to wait until he will be officially free. And while I wait I want to take care of him, to be with him, to be his partner in good and bad times.
But he cannot decide.
I don’t want to give up this fight. Not this easy.
Regrets consumed me.
It crippled me.
It made me beyond distinguishable trash.
It made me regret more.
But why am I regretting?
It started when I decided it is time. It is time to face my regret. I have already moved on, let go even. And I am sure with myself what it would be and how it would be the moment I am face to face with my regret.
Indeed, I managed. I was so confident of myself and so full that it would end just how it started.
But somewhere along, something I half-expected happened. Without fear I stood through it, fought and braved through it.
I decided through it, I was able to pull it through again, until before the day ended.
Something within me betrayed me. Something I could not explain.
Something that has thrown me off from the strong wall that I built to shield me.
I crumbled right then and there, and I regretted once again.
Because I failed to see that regret can do something, something big, and something I failed to include in my shielded and walled me, my heart.
Regret went in without any warning and crushed me beyond my expectations.
And so, as I build my walls again, I am confident this time who should stay out and who should I keep and shield from my own inconsistencies.
While the group was talking and he is in front of me, what I did most was look and stare at him. Memrizing his face, his lips, his eyes and brows, the way he talk and his expression.
This is the same person who would send me unknown emoticons :-* until I found out what it was.
The same person who told me several times that his mind hasn’t changed and his decision is the same.
The same person who told me that he would like to face the future and what it brings with me.
The same person who told  me that my problem about my age is shallow.
The same person who suggested to hide the relationship until I am ready to shout it to the whole world.
The same person who told me another child and a man to complete my family.
He is the same person who rocked my world from deep sleep and long hibernation.
The same person who made me ponder about life.
The same person who made me regret my hasty decision.
He is the same person I felt I have been unfair.
He is the same person who made me question my self, my capacity, my inner being.
He is the same person I could see from time to time, and feel who doesn’t have the same feelings anymore.
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