Thursday, January 18

Dreaming... Wishing... Yearning

Last night, I dreamt of us moving to our new house. But it was strange. There was me, and Daddyjun, and Rap. But when I turned around, I saw myself holding a newborn baby. It felt so good holding him (I felt it was a boy.) and the scent of the baby lingered on even until I woke up. What was my dream telling me? Was it because of my frustration of not being able to conceive again?

I often tell people who keep on asking on asking us why Rap is an only child that it's totally fine with me. That I have accepted our fate. That we're still lucky, at least we had Rap and we are financially able to provide for not only his needs but also his wants.

Or am I just fooling myself? Am I just putting on a happy mask for others to see that I am okay?

Everytime I go out of the house I pass by the squatters' area near our place. I see the small barefooted children walking around the streets. I often tell Rap how lucky he is compared to those children. And everytime I pass by that place it seems I am on a rollercoaster ride of emotions. Pity. Disgust. Worry.

Bottom line is, I get to have only one child and people in the slums get to have as many as they can. One of life's cruel jokes.

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