Dear Peanut,

Two days before your baptism, your Daddy and I were in disagreement about something. Actually, we’re not the ones fighting. I was in disagreement with somebody else. The issue stems a long way back. I’m going to spare you the details. Long story, short, I thought the issue had already been solved but it turned out that someone brought reinforcements—dragged new people to the issue.

I had been experiencing some pre-event jitters (being the OC person that I am, overseeing even the tiniest details like the fonts I used in your event collaterals). I woke up to a call that made my blood boil even more.

Your LolaMommy and LoloDaddy just came back from Palawan and someone caused them unnecessary stress and I hated that part a lot.

It’s about a request that we can’t accommodate. Actually, one person made the same request before but we explained and they understood and respected my/our point. But when this other person made the request, it was all dramatics to the point that she said she will go but “masama daw ang loob nya.”

Nagpantig ang mga tenga ko. I’ve had it with this issue that I snapped the final straw.

At this point, I couldn’t sugarcoat my words anymore: Don’t go to my event if napipilitan ka lang. Walang pumipilit sa'yo. I was so angry because this person made me look so bad in front of my own parents.

So the whole day, your poor Daddy had to calm me down because I had been feeling some chest pains. But he’s also pissed at me because I stuck to my first decision. It’s about principles I value. I was so angry the whole day!

So that night, I was cooking our dinner while AteL was washing your bottles. You were on your tumba-tumba, fake-crying (calling us) and watching TV, and kicking your feet when the whole world turned into slow-mo.

I saw the exact moment you kicked your legs so hard and the rocking chair flipped back and you hit your head on our tiled floors. The butter container I was holding flew out of my hands when I jumped the short distance from the galley kitchen to the living room but I was too late to catch you.

I saw your face turn red and turn even redder because you cried harder and louder and I screamed and screamed that AteL had to hug me because I didn’t realize I was already shaking.

There’s a small reddish patch on your head but no blood and we taught if we should bring you to the hospital. You were alert and sobbing but didn’t seem to be in pain but we decided to still go the ER to have you checked out.

I called your Daddy and told him what happened and we decided to meet at the ER (he would be coming from the office). AteL carried you while I rushed around the house like a headless chicken fixing your baby bag, grabbing your files, and making sure the electric stove was off before we left.

We arrived at the ER 15 minutes later. I signed some forms for the HMO while AteL and the nurses had you checked for weight and evaluation. Your daddy arrived and I could see the concern on his face. 

The doctors arrived and they checked you and said it’s a slight bump, but nothing else seems wrong. But they gave us a checklist with signs to watch out for, particularly projectile vomiting. We stayed there for nearly an hour because of the hospital protocol—I think 10 med students approached us to ask the same questions like what happened, how it happened, family history, your birthing story, etc.

You were so noisy the whole time, noisy in the sense that you were so sociable, giggling at the doctors who checked on you and doing that cutiepie thing that had the nurses go ga-ga again. 

Then your grandparents arrived and they drove us back to the condo and gave us pasalubong from Palawan. Your Daddy and I got one souvenir shirt each. They gave you three, haha.

After I called your Daddy (before going to the ER), I thought of calling your LolaMommy and LoloDaddy because they're on their way to the condo anyway. I wanted to ask for help. But I knew that they would worry all the more so I thought I would just call them when things have settled down.

When I wasn't answering my phone (I was talking to the doctors),  LolaMommy called your Daddy and he explained. I didn't want them to worry while driving. I want to be the kind of mother who takes charge, like how your LolaMommy is. She's like mayora, barangay captain, DSWD chairperson, doctor, the Tulfo brothers, Joe D'Mango, Boy Abunda, and Kris Aquino rolled into one.

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When your Daddy arrived, we had a brief moment when we stared at each other for a few seconds and then all the anger I had been feeling the whole day just left my body. Like it had all been lifted off of me. Like someone opened a box that is my head and my heart and just switched the off button. Like how you would switch off a microwave. It’s not that I wasn’t angry anymore. I just don’t care anymore.

It seemed to me that you noticed how angry I was the whole day. You had been extra fussy the whole day too, restless. It seemed to me that you had to call me out and yell for my attention. When you felt that your cries weren’t enough to get me to stop being an "angry mommy", you had to sacrifice your safety to snap me out of the anger pit I had been digging the whole day.

And it worked. But my dear love, please don’t do that again. Do not sacrifice your safety just to snap me out of my reverie. I promise you I won’t do that again.

That is why I don’t care anymore. I just don’t care about these issues anymore. But I still live by this rule: my child, my home, my rules, my decisions. I am the mother. My word is the law. Whoever goes against me (except for my husband, we are always a united front) will be banned from the #HouseOfDerla and our lives. Whoever’s reading this, it’s not that I am not open to criticism or suggestions. This is about ignoring people who don’t respect our decisions and would use dramatics just to prove how influential she is. Go away.

From that point forward, I don’t care how many people I unfriend on Facebook and ban from my life if it means I get the peace of mind that I need. Being a new mother is terrifying and all the noise and unnecessary drama from other people can really mess with your physical and emotional health. And if I put other people’s feelings first before my own physical, mental, and emotional health, I would get sick. At this point in my life, if I don’t like you, stay away.

I know it’s cryptic and I won’t tell you the details, ever. Only a few close people know about this issue that I really don’t want to share but I think I should because it’s a motherly milestone I want to remember.

I want to remember that exact moment I started not caring about small things and started focusing on who really matters.

I’ve read somewhere that the best gifts you can give to your child are your sanity, health, and happiness. Me not caring anymore about small things has given me more room to bask in all the wonderful milestones and moments that we share with you.

Your mother loves you fiercely.

P.S. That was your first ER trip and I pray that we don’t have ER trips anymore. But being the project manager that I am, our ER protocols (risk management) worked. Thank God it was only a slight bump that healed quickly and you're very sociable during your baptism and party.

Love,