The Birth of Marlon The Little Falcon

It was a quiet morning for myself and my almost two-month old baby, Samuel. I was nursing him, and as I stare at his peaceful face, my eyes focused on the scar just by his right eye. It was a scar brought about by an “eventful” delivery as my doctor called it. It brought me back.

After twelve hours of labour with no epidural (just gas), my body grew tired. Though I still push and push with all my might as my husband and my primary midwife held unto my legs for assistance, the other midwives recommended I be wheeled into the theater for assisted birth, and if not successful we will move to Cesarean section delivery. I even heard my midwife told the other one, 'she's done so well so far'. Apparently, my husband was so worried about me already, but when they were wheeling me out of the room, the only thing I can think of was that, 'oh it will hurt if they bump my stretcher unto the door'. Hehe.

From one to two midwives looking after me, suddenly there are ten people around me. I remember they moved me from the stretcher to the theater bed, and I have experienced the worst pain in my life (being moved around while in the peak of your contractions) then they injected the anesthetic unto my spine as a preparation for a potential Cesarean section. Everything went numb hips down, and everything was alright in the world again for me – except my husband’s face was full-on worried and there were a number of people looking at me.

I’ve never been hospitalized before, so everything was foreign to me but I just didn’t’ felt any panic or anxiety at that time, I just tried to remember I need to push the hardest because after three tries, and baby is still not out they will cut me. I’ve seen enough medical videos in the past to know that it will hurt so I pushed, and pushed, and pushed and then I heard the loudest cry. Then suddenly, my baby is on my chest with my husband next to me – red eyed (from crying or lack of sleep, I’m not sure).

I just remembered in the midst of the organized chaos (yes it was chaotic, but the doctors knew what they were doing), I was told before pushing that they will use forceps to bring the baby out. I didn’t know what it was, so while medicated, lying down tired they explained to me they will use an instrument to pull my baby out. At that time, I was like OK let's do it. I just knew then my baby will be fine but thinking about it now, it sends shivers to my spine. One small error, and that could go wrong in so many levels. I am not scaring you (and sorry if I did) but in retrospect, it was a lot for a baby to go thru. Knowing myself, if I knew I will go thru that before going in I might have some serious anxiety because I tend to overthink. I am just happy that mid-way my pregnancy, I stopped googling things and just reminded myself, women has been bringing life to the world for thousands of years now, my body is designed for this, and delivered it did (woman’s body, it is something else, hey).

With the above ordeal, my baby came out with the biggest bruise brought about by the forcep being pressed to his tiny head (I don’t’ want to think about it anymore). This bruise made his right eye puffy, and the skin around his eye blue. He looked like he was punched (yung totoo, fight club ba sa loob ng tyan ko?). I thought it was normal for babies to look like they just put up a fight coming out. Looking back now, my heart aches a little thinking my Samuel was hurt cause it's not normal, but he survived that, and with that I am proud.

Samuel - fresh new born with a bruise on his right eye

The bruise subsided as days go by and it became evident there’s a mark left. A month into it, I just accepted he will have a scar by his eye. We called it his battle scar, and I thought he looked bad-ass with it (and he deserves being called that, he fought his way out).

The bruising turned into a scar

Back to that that quiet morning when he was almost two-month old, my heart got filled with a need to tell him he is fine with that scar on. It was around the time we decided we will go back going to church (after the new-born bubble) and just know, I will receive questions about the scar. With all the feelings I am feeling, the aspiring scribe in me opened up the notepad on my phone (while I am still holding/nursing this beautiful tiny human that came out of me) and started scribbling a story about a little falcon who has a scar on his eye. Why falcon? Cause Marlon (Samuel's second name) means little falcon. I even drew stick illustrations to explain my story across (I can’t draw, so it was a big deal).

The very early draft of "Marlon the Little Falcon" dated 18 May 2018

Months after, I picked that note up again. This time, my baby’s scar already faded (I was not expecting that…honestly) but I found the story still resonates in me. It’s a story that reminded me we can be different on many aspects – race, talent, physical appearance, but at the end of the day we have survived the challenges we have faced so far (for my baby’s case, he had that challenge very early on). We may be different, but that does not mean it’s bad. It just makes us unique in our own way, and with that we should be proud.

By the time my baby is almost a year old, I have refined my story to be on a wording that will be suited to children. I then reached out to Angel (my sister’s boyfriend). I have shared to him the story and just in a snap, he created wonderful illustrations (seriously, that dude is a tattoo artist but made the loveliest children’s’ book illustration, hit me up if you want his commissions). Now, I have a book called Marlon the Little Falcon. I printed a bunch of copies to serve as a give-away to Samuel’s dedication day / advance birthday celebration. It was such a wonderful feeling sharing a story dear to my heart. I thought it was the end of it. I have friends who got copies and encouraged me to “publish” it and I know eventually I will I just don’t know when.

The give-aways for Samuel's dedication came with a copy of Marlon the Little Falcon

Then, a couple of weeks ago I got that 'it's time' sign in my heart. You see, a lot of people has gifted my son books - we have books in every corner of our little apartment. And any parent with a toddler will tell you, they go thru books fast. They just love flipping, pointing into pictures, and being read to. Samuel has his favorite books I know, and there are times he will pick up books and hand them to me to read it to him. One particular day, out of all the heaps of book in front of him, he picked up our copy of Marlon the Little Falcon and I read it to him (kinilig ako, low-key). I know it’s too early to tell if he understood it or not, but I just know at that moment my book has filled its main purpose, to reassure the child it was written about that he is fine as he is, and that he is a fighter.

In that moment, I told myself I am ready to put myself out there, and share the book. Everything else is just a bonus, so that lead us to this moment that I get to share with you the story of Marlon the Little Falcon.

 

xx, Belle