Bedrest Anxiety and Talking with the Baby

Yesterday, I tried writing for two hours. As I approached the third hour, the heaving and retching of my pregnancy vomiting returned with a vengeance. I haven’t exactly stayed with the bland diet after my hospitalization. I ate some really good stuff from Angono’s Balaw Balaw restaurant when my bestfriend Homer visited me last weekend. I also wolfed down a lot of pastel which Homer brought as pasalubong from his Mindanao trip last week. So I resumed eating oily foods and it was okay for a maximum of three days until I started feeling dizzy and nauseous again. I immediately reverted back to my bland lugaw diet to tame this hyperemesis gravidarum.

While I was taking a shower last night, I decided to do a strange thing advised to me by one of the hospital nurses. I gently rubbed my belly and talked to my baby while I showered. According to my readings, the baby does not hear anything yet until midway during the pregnancy. So I was not really counting on a response. I just told the baby that maybe he or she can help me manage my nausea and maybe we can write a little during the day, reassuring him or her that I am doing my best in this whole wide universe to keep things healthy and less intense. I kind of made a tiny deal with him or her and said that I just need a few hours of normalcy during the day so that I can still do something for our future.

This morning, I was able to write for two to three hours with no incident. I still feel nausea but it was unlike the one I had yesterday. I still have enough energy to create this post, even. It’s as if my baby “cooperated” this morning and let me do my thing for a few hours. I am feeling deeply encouraged that this baby is really smart. Can’t explain but he or she helped me out. At this point, I just wanted to feel him or her kicking so that I can always know if he or she is alright but it won’t be until my fifth month of pregnancy. This tiny sign from early this morning somehow comforts me in some way that we are connecting already at this early stage.

I still can’t help but feel misty-eyed when I remember the first time I saw his/her arms move vigorously in the ultrasound and the first time I heard his/her heartbeat. It’s a feeling unlike any other.

Prior to this, I used to be a huge and intense workaholic and this bed rest is putting some brakes, brakes that I am not personally used to. But I welcome the change because there is a tiny passenger inside my tummy that deserves the best of everything. Literally everything. I can’t be self-absorbed anymore because this baby needs my undivided attention.

I think the relaxing pregnancy music playlists on Spotify also made some difference as I tried to relax and write this morning.



My husband has been completely supportive and I am deeply thankful for the level of support I am getting from home. Something so colossal as this meaningful life event is a bit of a community effort to handle. Having said that, this is just about as much as I can personally handle. I don’t want to over exert myself given my recent hospitalization and I am already feeling the need to throw up again. That’s my baby with the STOP sign already. Haha. I’ll just post some new stuff later.


Anxiety sometimes comes in a loud panic. Sometimes, though, it appears in silent but painful waves rippling through the stomach. Sometimes, you want to scream. But in this kind of anxiety, you are out of words. You just want to stare into space and think of the enormity of the cause that set these waves in motion.

You want to scream but you can’t. You just can’t. And you just want to curlĀ  into a ball for the rest of the day but stuff begs to be done. The sheer panic crawls at the back of my neck as surely as perspiration flows in this summer heat.

How can something so beautiful have such a violent phase in it? It eludes me. But I grit my teeth through it in the certainty that after this nervous phase, everything is going to be worth it.