Dear Peanut,

Today’s Friday and since I have brunch with your Ramen aunties tomorrow at Shangri-La Plaza, your daddy and I agreed that he would take the 3AM shift and I’ll take over the 6AM shift. Even if we have full-time help at the condo now, your father and I are still 100 percent hands-on with you.

We were told (over and over again, by fellow parent-friends) that the first few months will be hard because of sleep deprivation. We thought we’d wing it and it wouldn’t be much of a change since we’re used to sleeping really late. But my god, sleep deprivation when you have a newborn is fucking different (more on that later).

Anyway, we have so many things to tell you. But let me write a quick blog entry about a kurot-sa-puso moment I had a few minutes ago before I work on some pending projects.

Your daddy said he’ll take a power nap first but you cried and he picked you up from your crib. He placed you on top of his chest, where you like to sleep, so you can calm down. I entered our bedroom and saw the two of you sleeping.

You’re so tiny. Your entire body could not even cover the length of your father’s torso. Your outstretched arms are hugging your father’s chest, trying to cover as much area as you can. Nakadapa ka sa chest ng daddy mo, so your nappy is facing upwards and your tiny face is secured under your daddy’s chin.

I just wanted to get the phone charger, haha. But I slipped my 5-week postpartum body beside your daddy and stared at you two for a while. You’re still half awake, trying to see where the light is coming from (I opened the lights when I entered the room). Your lips are moving and I wonder what you’re thinking.

For a while there, I wonder if you’ll remember any of these moments when you grow up. I wonder if you’ll remember that your parents have chosen shared parenting. I wonder if you’ll remember the little things and little moments like these that make every sleepless night worth it. I wonder if you’ll remember all of these so that you can appreciate them in the future.

Of course, you won’t remember any of these details because you’re still so young. I can’t even recall my earliest memories as a baby.

I don’t have memories of wailing so late into the night, of my nappy getting changed, of baby-self being bathe and cooed and fed. I don’t have memories of being held in my parents’ arms not because they didn’t happen, but because I was too young to remember. I was too young to remember how they probably felt all the joy, fears, pride, disappointments, and overwhelming happiness your father and I are feeling now.

And it makes me wonder, if only children can remember all the things their parents have sacrificed for them in their first few hours, days, weeks, months, and years of life, our relationships with our parents would probably get better, best even.

If only children can remember all the late nights and all the little things parents do for them when they were still babies--scared and helpless, we would probably look at our parents more lovingly and with more understanding eyes.

If only children can remember all the sacrifices their parents have made, make, and will continue to make for them right from the very start, we would probably understand our parents all the more and won’t ever double guess if they do love us or not.

And that’s actually the point of this blog.

SC and I want to document all these little things because you’re too young to make memories yet. And we also want you to know that as new parents, we make a lot of mistakes, and sometimes, it’s so easy to snap and cry because of the combination of fear and sleep deprivation.

We are sometimes afraid that we’re doing things wrong. We are sometimes afraid because it’s a totally new ball game for us and even if we’ve read the rules, we are still crafting our own gameplay.

Parents are born as soon as their babies are born. And it feels like we’re pushed inside the ring without much of a prep. We want you to know that we’re learning, and we’re learning fast.

Lastly, through the blog, we want you to know that sometimes, we lose our shit. We’re just often good at hiding it.

XOXO,

Update (as of March 29, 2018): Changed my codename from Queen Bitch (QB) to Tiger Mom (TM).