Someone said they are a happy person. Happy all the time.
I can't see how that is even possible to be happy all the time. I know you could see the positive, but not happy.
This weekend I was confronted with trying to be happy all the time. With a sick kid, you have to show some type of bravado and suck it up. So I tried. In the midst of sick child, broken relationship and sleepless nights. I tried to smile.

I didn't know that pretending things don't hurt could be so hard.
Strategizing could take up so much time and make you pull out your hair when you see the lack of response.

I went to bed at 7:30pm. Got up at 8:45pm. Went to bed again at 9pm. Got up at 11pm. Went to bed again and got up at 1:45am. I look no better. It is a Saturday night. I am trying to keep the faith, hoping that you would return. But the hope light starting to get very dim.

I'm here.. at work.. wondering what is the next step.
Do I proceed to wear my Eau D' Bad ting cologne and sign off of relationships and hope entirely, or do I walk on with my head high and await a promise. My three friends have been God Sends and have given me three different perspectives. Thank you Viktor, Dominic and Marc.

I am a firm believer in signs and three things happened yesterday that hit me as important.
One was an apology from my first source of relationship frustration. It was so out of the blue, I couldn't say anything.
The second came in the form of a cancellation of a sexual tryst that was meant for help me forget. The irony is not lost on me.
 The third was me wondering if and how to move on and then immediately seeing this "Be strong enough to let go, and wise enough to wait for what you deserve" and in my head hearing that better will come. I believe in the promise and I will have faith that this was a preparation for something better. I can't give up.

What's Happening..

Ok.. so I thought I would try to do this thing again.

Since there are so many things going through my head. Since the last time, I am 34 year old single mom. Working hard to make my daughter and myself happy. "Living" I hope, feels more like existing sometimes. Trying to make it through a whirlwind.

The last thing I wrote should give an idea.

I used to be cute
Till you found cuter
I was desirable
Until you saw Ms Kamasutra
You promised me the world,
Until you thought me no longer deserving
Restracting the same statement
That once was our birthing.

You swore to me truth
Then I found it all to be a lie
The image of which
Left me churning inside
You spoke of religion
And I was your Goddess
Of Kings Queens and Kingdoms
Then overthrew the monarchy

Fed me sweet fruit
That turned out to be poison
Sickly and Frail
I finally
Drew for my weapon.

It's been a long while huh. More than a year actually.. and within that time I have had my baby, and watched her grow into the almost 1 year old that she is.

Viktoria Isoke Rose was born on Thursday 3rd December 2009, 6lbs 3 1/2 ounces via C-section.. just a perfect bundle of joy. Amidst all the stress, and trials in 2009, she was and is my shining star that continues to show me that life is good, and that the world continues on even when you want to get off the roller coaster. As I quickly approach that milestone of her birth I remember my hospital stay. It was on the 30th of November last year that I went in for my Pressure to be checked. Just the week before I had to stay for two days, initially under the guise of sugar testing, only to have my blood pressure checked as well. If it rose again, I would be in for good until she came out. I was actually prepared, because when i checked that morning and even though i knew that it just bordered on high, Port of Spain General Hospital would not let me leave. So I put my bag in the trunk. Sure enough, the combination of anxiety and unpreparedness for this child caused my blood pressure to peak, and there I was, settling in for the long wait. That was Monday. I was tortured with Saltless food, Mini entrees, Stern nurses who insisted on telling me when my bedtime was, a dying blackberry and when night fell, a lot of bawling pregnant women and the nurses subsequently advising "Leave she, she not ready yet" when we tried to bring it to their attention. I remember for three nights, I counted contractions and breathed with my bedside neighbours, (just like I saw on TLC), who rotated about twice a day as the labour progressed from oohs and aahhs... to Oh God! Oh God! to ARRRRGGGGHHHH.. THE BABY FALLING OUT! And it would be at that point the gurney would appear to roll her down to the dreaded "1st Floor".

To make matters worse and to make me concerned all at the same time, a baby was actually delivered on the labour floor after the night nurse attendant insisted that the woman was not ready. Needless to say, the baby decided that it was time and made its way out to a very startled mother. Baby cries pierce through the *still* of the labour ward. Yet I endured. I swore that I would never, curse or bawl and I would bite my pain and scream on the inside. Meanwhile, friends and family were making bets as to the date that the doctors would give the word to induce. That word was given as the 2nd December.. of course in true form, i misinterpreted and sent word that I was to be induced on the evening of the first. The doctors never came till the morning of the second. This meant that my phone was ringing, beeping, chiming and vibrating all through the night. Finally, on the 2nd December the Induction began. I was placed in one of those rooms, my legs were spread and a table inserted. That's it. I was supposed to just wait. This was about 10:35am on the 2nd December 2009. At about 5:07pm, I felt a pain, it wasn't unbearable, but i had to take a deep breath, it was like a wave starting from the top of my stomach and progressing downwards. It literally was a contraction. Not very painful, just uncomfortable, but I could see how quickly it could turn. Luckily mummy was there for visiting hours, well your grandmother. When I explained what happened, we waited. And nothing else came. The doctors came to visit, by this time I was being continuously monitored and your fetal heart rate was beating comfortably and steadily on the screen and it seemed that I forever being twisted in an uncomfortable position and told not to move. By 8:40pm, the doctors were tired waiting as well. I was advised that the cost of the table was about 1200 TT dollars and that I must be a horse, because nothing was happening. This would be the last tablet, after which, if nothing happened, you would be forceably removed via C-section. I prayed. Specifically to Saint Gerard, The patron saint of in charge of Safe Deliveries I believe. There were two prayers asking for his intercession, so who am I to differ. I had never been in hospital before you, never had any surgery before you. I have to admit, you opened a world of new experiences. Yet again, your mother's horse like stature prevent the medication from doing its' work. About 1am, I was told the theatre was booked for 6am. I couldn't even rest with the monitors hooked up and then there was the recently inserted access line. The fledgling doctor attempted no less than 3 times to insert. It hurt like hell each time. Then about 5am, the catheter was inserted. Wow.. The nurse told me to relax. But how exactly does one relax, while a hollow tube is being inserted into "places". But I rallied through, eyes shut tight. I was told to waddle back to bed and await the anesthesiologist. This odd protrusion shifted a little as I forced myself to be calm and walk back to my assigned bed. This would be the last day I had you to myself, and the first day I would see you. The anesthesiologist arrived with his groupies, singing praises to the spinal tap.. Oh you can see her as she arrives, you will be totally alert, back to normal immediately. I protested. "I do not wish to be alert, I wish to be in a deep slumber and I will see her when I wake up." But he was a sly one, and I was finally convinced. I would take the big needle in my back. I was scared. I don't think I can explain how afraid. But I changed into the gown they gave me, lay on the stretcher/gurney (whatever you call it) and put on my brave face. This was the end of the journey. A journey filled with so much revelation, fear and hurt. I stared at the ceiling as they wheeled me towards the theatre. Oh the nurses were so nice here! The room was already prepared and the shiny needles put out, not to mention the million instruments to be used. Do they really use so many? Damn that scalpel looks sharp. So many thoughts. I shifted onto the cross like operating table, arms outstretched as if I was to be sacrificed. There goes Freedom. There goes Wild Abandon, and All nighters ran off as well. I was no longer going to be living for me alone. Here came Responsibility and Viktoria Isoke Rose. I was told to raise into a seated position, hunched over and "Don't move". I wouldn't lie, I saw the needle. I really tried not to, but it is so hard to miss something that size. The nurse said "That tattoo big boy! It didn't hurt?" I knew it was only a ploy to distract me. There were tiny pin pricks, Which I could tolerate, Then I saw the needle being lifted and again I was told "Don't move." In it went. It wasn't THAT bad to be honest, it was more like a dull discomfort. I knew it should hurt more. The needle came out and then it went it again. And then Again. He seemed a little disturbed. He said the needle was not long enough to enter my spine, and they needed the Black one from the Main Theatre. So first I'm a horse and now My large expanse of back prevents the needle from inserting all the way in. Truly special. Luckily, there was no time to send for one and I got what I was asking for all the time, General Anesthesia. It was meant to be. On went the mask, The drips were attached to the access and I was asked to count backward. To be honest, I don't know when I fell asleep, but I do know I heard someone call my name. I was groggy but awake, and I knew to ask for you. They said they were checking you out, you had a little jaundice. By the time I had the words out my mouth I was being wheeled out the corridor and my parents were right outside the Operating Theatre. Snap Snap, Take her picture. I asked for you, and they said you just passed, very pink, naked as the day you were born *smile* and healthy. Daddy said as they wheeled you out, the primary school choir launched into Ave Maria. I believe him. I believe I fell into a deep sleep again and awoke a little before midday. I wanted to see you. Then I turned and I saw this little pale thing in a cot next to me. My Goodness! Is this Viktoria Isoke Rose? So pale, so small. So sweet and all mine. You started to give a little whimper, a passing "now off duty" nurse said "She hungry," I was lost. How do I feed her? I could barely move, I have no milk. I finally got the nerve to call out to a nurse to bring you closer to me. She brought you to my chest. You instinctively sniffed out my breast and latched on. It was amazing. And you opened your eyes, just pools of Dark grey looking into mine. I wondered what you saw. I knew I was hooked.

You are my Joy, the stars aligned into that sacred cross as signal that you are special and meant to be. You are here. And much like the verse of the Desiderata that I read to you late into my pregnancy almost every night ..

"You are a child of the universe

no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should."

Desiderata

Yo Baybeh!!

You doh keep still? Ok ok ok.. please don't keep still. We need to know that you are happy and active.

I am now 7 months and 2 weeks and I will be heading to Miami on Tuesday.. hopefully to get your crib and stuff. But primarily for Miami carnival.. I know i know.. your mummy is a limer.

Your new name:

Viktoria Isoke Rose

Viktoria (russian for victory)
Isoke (African for Satisfying gift)
Rose (Pretty like a rose and this is your saint name)

Dig yuh mummy sexy belly pics..

Your daddy finally met you. After 6 months of you coming into being.. To say I was tentative to bring him into our circle would be a gross understatement. And even though I know in some way he is supposed to belong, I know that with the circumstances surrounding the entire event, he really doesn't. So on Tuesday 25th August 2009, you and your daddy officially met. He was skeptical at first, but I knew he wanted to. So when he took that first touch, I knew he was hooked. I guess you heard or felt him, cause you responded. That was some different type of excitement, cause you were moving up a storm. I'm not certain if it was hands, feet or head or maybe a combination of all three. But each time he touched my belly, it was like something sparked in you to touch him back. Or maybe you were just hungry. Then he kissed you. Lay on my lap and listened .. and rubbed.

So you are over 6 months my baby? How is your journey going little one? My own is getting better each day, cause its one more day that I am getting closer to seeing you.

Big improvements Vikki.

Wow.. your head no longer seems AS big. Actually everything with you has fallen into place and you look beautiful.. the pictures are still fuzzy, but you are beautiful never the less. Talk about kicking, and butting and boxing and whatever else that you are doing in there everytime I take a two minutes breather. When I am calm is when you decide to be active. No worries, I am just glad to know that you are good. You are a healthy big girl. I wish I could carry around an ultrasound machine and watch you move and make faces all day. I can't wait to see you.

So now we leave the safe confines of the private doctor and head to clinic. At Port Of Spain General Hospital. Oh the horror. Apparently something in Mummy's history "high blood pressure" is making the doctor cautious. So from now I trek to POSGH and battle with everyone from the "hills" to get attention. I'm not certain how much longer I can take this and I only just registered this week. We'll see how it goes, I'm willing to pelt the money out my pocket..

Oh baby girl.. your daddy wants to rub you and he does love you very much.

Wow.. You're and active little peanut aren't you Viki-Rose. Whenever I just manage to forget that you are like a little worm inside of me, you jut something out and make me jump. You are no longer fluttering but making definite movements that surprise me every single time. I wonder if I'll ever get accustomed to this (the movement). It's so odd knowing that someone is growing inside of you. That you are stretching and yawning and listening to my voice. I try to sign to you every night and rub my belly with baby oil to wake you up on a morning. Do you hear or feel?

This is the song I sing for you.. but I could never remember how the ending goes. So I just hum the rest. My daddy (your papa) used to sign it for me every night before i went to bed at 8:30pm. You will be going to bed at 9pm. Doh feel yuh get away.

Daddy's Little Girl (turned Mummy's little girl)

You’re the end of the rainbow, my pot of gold.
You're mummy's little girl, to have and hold.
A precious gem is what you are; / you're sugar and spice and everything nice
You're mommy's bright and shining star / you're my pride and joy, you're my shining light

You’re the spirit of Christmas, the star on our tree.
You’re the Easter Bunny to Mommy and me.
You’re sugar, you're spice, and you're everything nice
And You’re Mummy’s Little Girl

You’re a treasure I cherish, all sparkling and bright.
You were touched by Holy and beautiful light;
Like the angels who sing, a heavenly thing;
And you’re Mummy’s Little Girl