RECIPE: Oatmeal Arroz Caldo

OATMEAL ARROZ CALDO

I'm no health expert but when articles from all over and your own experience tell you that oats are good, then oats are, indeed, good.

Oats are the best thing that can ever happen to one's diet. According to Wikipedia, these contain more soluble fiber than any other grain. And what good does fiber do? It essentially makes us feel full thereby effectively curbing any more craving. What's more, certain studies have shown that it may actually help in lowering one's cholesterol. Between my hubby and I, I'm the oatmeal person. My husband's heart belongs to cereal (well, Quaker OATS cereal). He's taller and lighter than me (weight's regular) but it seems that my previously non-stop consumption of oatmeal a few months back has kicked his cholesterol level to the curb. Mine's at a regular level, his' is borderline high!

But okay, this blog post is not about our eating habits and our sad weight comparison. It is about that oatmeal dish that I still have every now and then for either breakfast or dinner.

OATMEAL ARROZ CALDO

"Arroz" means rice in Spanish, while "caldo" means broth. Basically, arroz caldo, a staple popular in former Spanish colony, the Philippines, is a rice broth or otherwise known as the Filipino-style congee.

The Philippines, being geographically close to China, has a lot of Chinese dishes in its cuisine and Arroz Caldo happens to be a Spanish-sounding "Filipinized" congee made of sticky rice, chicken broth, chicken, garlic, pepper and onion.

Now for someone like me who grew up to this but is on a quest to lose the LBs due to health concerns, rice can be a little tricky due to its calorie and sugar level. Thankfully, I discovered (and friends concur) that oatmeal can be of the same sticky consistency as rice as long as the oats are not swimming in water. And since I don't like the traditional breakfast oatmeal with the fruits, nuts, sugar and milk (I don't have a sweet tooth), I thought of making my own Oatmeal Arroz Caldo.

Here's the recipe of what I have been eating for the last two years:

1/2 cup dry of Quaker Oats Quick 1-Minute Oats  -  150 calories

1/2 boiled egg  -  39-40 calories

1/2 link microwaved chicken hamonado sausage (or the tastiest chicken sausage you can find in the deli/grocery)  -  115 calories (I buy Martin Purefoods' Chicken Hamonado Longanisa in the US)

1/2 tsp of powdered ginger (McCormick or any other brand)

generous sprinkles of dried minced onion and granulated garlic (McCormick or any other brand)

a dash of pepper to taste

chili powder (optional)

1. Pour hot water into a soup bowl, add the oats, ginger, onion and garlic

2. Add the sliced boiled egg and sliced chicken hamonado

**Makes 1 serving (304-305 calories/serving)

I know health nuts will surely chastise me for adding sausage in this dish (preservatives!) but hey! It's fast. filling, low in sugar and works for my palate. I am also not preventing anyone from going the extra mile by boiling their own chicken and adding it to this dish.

Winter in New York

It's actually partially "Autumn in New York". Yahoo states that the winter season officially starts on December 21. I'll be joining my husband for a brief tour of New Jersey and New York from December 14 to TBA (lol).

This trip is going to be a bittersweet one. The not-so-tiny elephant in the room that is my dad's condition still looms like the recent hurricane in the East Coast. There's also the fact that New York was the city where dad could have gotten a job some three decades back if it had not been for good old "utang na loob". But then, this opportunity to be in the area is something of which we have to take advantage since it's actually a business trip for my husband. So sasabit ako. Sayang naman. :)

Shouldn't it be "Keep Calm and GO to New York"?!!
Oh yeah, I'm not calm!
This is from http://www.keepcalm-o-matic.co.uk

Now, what to do? As of this typing, my husband is petiks at work, compiling FAQs about the trip while I should have gone down to the condominium gym some hours back (I was watching the Giants parade!). To be addressed too is the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy in New York and New Jersey. Here's just to hoping that things are not so bad anymore and that things will never be as bad, God forbid, once we get there...

So let's go back. What do you do and where do you go if and when you have the opportunity to be so close to the Big Apple? Here's what I found so far:

1. Statue of Liberty  -  No one can't miss this opportunity (unless there's another hurricane, again, God forbid) especially now that the Crown of Lady Liberty is once again accessible to the public after a major renovation. I might even forget that I have an extreme fear of heights if mother nature cooperates. :)

2. Times Square  -  For the countless times I've watched Good Morning America (GMA) on TV, I may want to get up really early if it means being behind the glass windows of the set of GMA. Hehe. Or it probably is the magic of being there, in the middle of it all in Times Square that I want to experience.

3. Central Park  -  Central Perk for me! There's been so many times that I've imagined strolling in this park whether alone, with friends or with my loved one. No park on earth, or at least the ones I've been, has come close to what I think I could expect once there. And yes, heaven forbid, robbers and all. But hey! I'm from the Philippines. And I've experienced being chased by drug addicts in Luneta. lol

4. Rockefeller Center  -  I don't skate. I can't skate. But I want to take a photo with that huge and famous skating rink behind me and I want to see that huge and famous Christmas tree. It's the Christmas season, after all!

5. Empire State Building  -  If only to be WITHIN its Observation Deck to drink in the sights of NYC, I'll gladly flush down the toilet my fear of heights.

6. Pizza  -  So I still don't know if we should brave Brooklyn or stick to Manhattan for this. One more concern: I'm a calorie counter. Or maybe I'd just forget Livestrong's MyPlate for that fine winter day when we're going to need all the energy that the carbs in a New York pizza could bring.

7. Ninja Restaurant  -  My former co-trainer, Kitchie, is the one to blame for this! Ever since being told by her of ninja-like food servers jumping from another floor to where customers are, I have not stopped thinking of possibly dining here. But oops. $38 for a 3-course dinner! Maybe I'll just stick to a quaint Japanese resto. 

8. American Museum of Natural History  -  Just for the sake of being there. Okay. Fine. It's the stuff of which Hollywood movie magic is made. I always see it in movies. I. Just. Want. To. Be. There. I wonder if my Bank of America debit card allows free access to this  museum... Yes it does!!!!

9. Broadway - I truly hope we could squeeze this in. I'd love to see "A Christmas Story" if only because it's in the Christmas season when we're going to be there. Or... Oh!!!! The Phantom of the Opera!!!!!!!!! :) :)

10. World Trade Center  -  These days, no trip in New York is complete without paying a visit and paying homage to the Twin Towers that were... or are going to be.

This is the only way I know how...

... to possibly forgive myself in the future.
... to say I'm sorry, dad.

Dad... The clock is ticking by the minute, by the hour. And I know you're just waiting for me...
Like how you've always waited for me. For just this one last time, please wait for me. I'll be beside you soon.

Dear Dad,

As of this typing, I don't know if you're still fighting the big fight. I was budgeting my international call credits and hesitating to call (as I've called more than my usual in a week for the last two days) when Joy messaged me on Facebook saying you no longer have a heartbeat. That had me calling. You were being revived.

I know I should be frowned upon by your psychiatrist when I did what I did last Sunday. I have no justifiable excuse for alarming you on that level and causing your declaration that you've become depressed because of it. But what could I do, dad? What should I have done?

I'm asking these questions not because I do not know the answer. I'm asking these questions because you've always been the one who I turned to whether intentionally or not. And why?

It's because you're my dad. And you mean so much more than that word.

You're my first idol.

You're my first writing mentor.

You're my first speaking coach.

You're my first grammar nazi.

You're the one who taught me how to cook bulalo and pansit.

You're the one who bought me that green swing at our house in Santa Rosa.

You're that one person whom I've fought with the most. And boy, did we fight.

We fought because you're the one who had always pushed me to overcome my shyness.

You're the one who had high hopes that I graduate with honors in high school.

You're the one who wilfully hid your own disappointment when I didn't place in the Top 2 or even Top 5 (I was number 6) just because I was one of the two who managed to enter your dream  -  and of many others' -  university.

You're the one who picked me up from school whenever I would send alarmed text messages saying I ran out of money.

You're the one who'd pawn our cellphones just so I could go to school.

You're the one who was scarily quiet when you learned from my otherwise hysterical mother that I was no longer the celibate woman (at least until marriage) that you'd hoped I was.

You're, at one point, the person I hated the most, when I had found out for myself your affairs behind mom's back.

Still, you're the one who I saw as the most crestfallen, hands on your head, when we rushed mom to a very expensive hospital sans money.

You're the one who told me to stop working at a call center and just continue my studies because you found out that her medical insurance from her last job could still be applied to the expenses.

You're the one who kept quiet and didn't respond to my angry text messages regarding what I thought as my inability to be up to par with my then-unknown siblings.

And even so, you're the one who I had never seen so happy and proud when I graduated from college with honors.

You're the one whose pride shot through the roof when I was able to enter a very tough law school that you willingly gave all of your prize money from a journalism contest to use as my tuition fee.

You're the one who tried to comfort me when, just a month after mom's death, I found out about the infidelities of my then boyfriend.

I sensed you, dad. I was crying and my vision was blurry with tears but I sensed that you're the one who got up from your room as I wailed to try to reach out with your hand to comfort me.

You're the one who pushed, and pushed that I work with politicians in Congress.

Yet you're the one who I had disappointed, more than my own bosses, when I got tired and allowed myself to fall short of what I could do and what's expected of me.

When I came to my senses, you're the one who I had quit law school for because time eventually came when things were no longer just about me.

But you were still the one who picked me up from work or met up with me halfway whenever I got off the office late.

You're the one who patiently waited if I'd go home to the property you were temporarily renting from your ex-girlfriend when we had to leave our Santa Rosa house.

You're the one who deftly instructed what I could and should do the moment you got sick and was confined at the Philippine Heart Center for the first time.

I want you to know that you're the one and only reason why I sold the cellphone you bought for me even though it disappointed you big time just because I knew we needed whatever money we could have when you got hospitalized.

You're the one who was most grateful and proud that with the good position I had secured at a good call center, I managed to shoulder your hospitalization cost.

From that health scare I had then promised that I'd no longer leave your side even if it meant being civil with your then girlfriend and her daughter.

You're the one who I gleefully went out with on dates at Luk Yuen and Kenny Rogers.

You're the one who agreed to my cheesy wish of welcoming 2008 at the Mall of Asia.

You're the one whose company I cherished and enjoyed during those crazy Pasig to Taguig jeepney rides.

You're the one who always bought and brought home exotic food like smoked deer meat which I loved.

You're the one who had always encouraged me to watch live Pacquiao bouts at a nearby gym even if I had always said no.

You're the one who told me to lose weight so my then boyfriend-now-husband could better appreciate how I looked.

And even when you had really gotten very sick, being diagnosed with kidney failure, you're the one who made sure that I realize and appreciate the importance of family reunions.

You're the one who got up very early in the morning every Monday in 2009 to go work at a province, three hours away, in exchange for free dialysis and a small amount of money.

You're the one who laughed at my stories while you're undergoing dialysis.

You're the one whose temper must have rubbed off on me because as you got mellower, I got meaner and felt like I should champion what we both were entitled.

You're the one who took me to the airport and took over my errands and paid our bills when I had to go out of the country for weeks, even months, on end.

You're the one who took every technologically tricky opportunity to go to an internet cafe to chat with me.

You're the one who always picked me up from the airport and whose face I'd love seeing light up the most upon presenting my pasalubong.

You're the one whose palate I had wanted to please the most.

You're the one whose forbidden favorite food  -  siomai from Siomai House  -  I'd begrudgingly but willingly buy.

You're the one who bravely stayed in line and walked a long way with me to view former President Cory Aquino's wake.

You're the one who welcomed with open heart my then fiance, Sergs.

You're the one who walked me down the aisle.

You're the one for whom I went crazy, making sure you had everything you might need before I left for the US, phone numbers, titles and all.

Not wanting to miss me before my flight to the US, you're the one who, alone, went to my in-laws' house to join my brother-in-law in taking my husband and me to the airport.

You're the one who I've always had in mind each time I go shopping.

You're the one for whom I cried buckets when you welcomed me back to Manila with a worsening eyesight and a damaged right index finger due to complications of diabetes.

You're the one who got up from your hospital bed when I got locked out of your room and fell, head first, while trying to reach out to me.

You're the one person for whom I'd willingly go into a fight with so many people.

So I'm so, so sorry dad that there have been so many times that I had lost my temper.

I'm so, so sorry dad that I have done so many things an understanding and caring daughter should not have.

I'm so, so sorry dad that that you always end up sacrificing so many things for me.

I'm so, so sorry dad that I can't be there, right at this very minute, with you just yet.

I know you hate ICUs...

I know you're afraid to go... to die...

I know, and I remember, that you asked me when I could go back to the Philippines.

I know and remember that I told you we're working on saving for that trip.

I know you conceded and just told me to not worry about you.

I know so well your wish to see my first born.

I know too that you're hanging on and holding on because you're afraid that Sergs and I would be childless for a long time like what you and mom experienced.

I know that you  know that only Him could make our wish happen

Dad I'm sorry I can't press my way and tell snooty nurses and cold doctors to let me into the ICU and stay beside you and hold your hand the way I did with you a month before my wedding and with mom before she passed away

Dad I'm sorry I'm 7,000 miles away and I can't just hop on a plane the way I did when I caught a bus to see mom when she slipped and when I squeezed my way inside a jampacked MRT the first time you had that health scare at the Heart Center.

Dad I'm sorry I might not be able to go back there in time to say these things in person to you.

Dad I'm sorry if I have one last thing to ask of you:

Go home, dad. Go home.

Remember when you were first diagnosed with kidney failure? You went home and I went back to the office to figure out if dialysis treatments were part of my health insurance at work. On that night dad, I barely was able to go through phone calls. I cried, dad. I cried. But somehow, by some miracle, I made it through. We made it through.

Go home, dad.

I'll be fine... I'll be fine...

Go home... Go home...

I am not fine... But I'll be...

You're not... And  more than anything else, I want you to be...

Go home, dad... Go home...

Drool-Worthy Bags (At least for me!)

Hey! I just saw this.

This bag is crazy!

But it's expensive.

So next time, maybe.

So, okay. That's not the cutest "Call Me Maybe" parody. One thing's for sure though, with that written and the pics below created this afternoon by me, I'm one bag-crazy girl. :)

But before my friends and relatives raise further their already raised eyebrows at this, let me state my disclaimers:

1. Unless I have millions to spare, I will not buy an Hermes Birkin. Seriously.
2. Unless we have already paid at least one of our mortgages, I will not buy a Chanel bag. I promise.
3. No more Louis Vuitton in Damier Ebene for me. At least not before I bag, pun not intended, a job that pays at least $50,000 a year.
4. No more Louis Vuitton in Damier Azur too. Unless someone's willing to buy my Neverfull Damier Azur PM so I could upgrade to an MM. *wink* *wink*
5. The Gucci bags remind me of a memory of my mom.
6. I'm kinda really diggin' the Coach horse drawn carriage logo on the Madison line. My current Coach bag is from the Poppy line and though I'm fond of it, it's getting kind of nauseous.
7. Burberry's a spare bag if I have spare thousands.
8. I will never ever be satisfied with Longchamp, even the made-to-measure ones here. 

Cautiously Pregnant: 10 Weeks

Actually, it's more like nine weeks and five days (and counting!). Since I'll be leaving soon for my native country, let's post this blog. :)

It's been almost two weeks since my OB diagnosed me with miscarriage. From what I have read online about other women's experiences, it could take anytime between two weeks and as long as five weeks before the actual miscarriage happens. So far? Two weeks down. Phase One over. Three weeks to go. And I'm close to betting that my baby is safe.

The past two weeks though felt like I had gone to hell and back. Hell was a swirl of anger, sadness, bitterness and doubt. I wallowed in it. I sought for answers from science and from experiences of other people. When my mood turned for the worst, it felt as though all I could find were negative answers and hopeless experiences even if I found, at an earlier time, stories of miracles and faith.

But I think I am still lucky to have trusted myself to cling on to however small amounts of faith in what's unknown or unseen. I still have, after all, the symptoms to signal that my pregnancy is very much intact. The What To Expect When You're Expecting website, of which I am a subscriber, still e-mails me weekly updates of how my baby and I are supposed to be doing and feeling. Like I said, I still have all the classic symptoms (sorry for the TMI!): increased white-ish vaginal discharge due to the ever-increasing estrogen hormone, constipation (argh... gotta increase my fiber!) and round ligament pain that's either sharp or dull and of which only lasts only a few seconds due to my enlarging uterus. I also recall several pregnant women on Baby and Bump saying that even if breast tenderness comes and goes and is eventually to decrease, nipple contact is very much like having a really sharp poking sensation (ick!).

Going back to where I have been clinging, it feels now that the One up there who's unseen by the naturally observant human mind but felt by the faithful human heart, has been trying to pull me up towards a better grasp  -  from a barely hanging on pinkie to a full arm grasp. Left and right, during the past two weeks, have been declarations from loved ones of prayers for Sergs and me and most especially, for our little baby. At one point, I even thought, these prayer warriors are like invited lobbyists in the Congress of Heaven. They are lobbying for me and my family in the House of God. :)

Existing are messages of faith and love too  -  from previously pregnant friends' faithful experiences, a heart-rousing and seemingly non-political speech of a Pro Life volunteer (considering I am for the Reproductive Health bill in the Philippines!) to assigned readings and sermons during mass. All I really need is to block disillusion and cast away doubt that God is talking to me.

So why is this blog still entitled "Cautiously Pregnant"? It's because I am slowly trying to leave everything to Him. I know that I can only do so much as my mind, its questions and its natural tendency to analyze and overanalyze, are not ugly and evil spawns of faithlessness but beautiful creations of our merciful and gentle Creator. Though He has the power to control, He guides us for most of the time in our human life thereby allowing us to make full use of our abilities. If our abilities fail us, whatever happens, He's always present to take over and catch us during our fall.

Maybe I have truly miscarried. Or maybe I still have a viable pregnancy. Either way, He knows my deepest desires, part of which is to become His instrument of faith.

Cautiously Pregnant: A Faithful Week 9

Why weekly "Buntis Chronicles" became "Cautiously Pregnant", allow me to try to explain in the simplest way I can: It's acknowledging the life my husband and I conceived and the fact that, in spite of a very gloomy declaration of my OB about me miscarrying, I still haven't bled and experienced scary cramping. Our little baby is still, therefore, very much in me, and is worthy of this blog, however short this may be.

So let me now say that I have the wisest medical expert on my side who's just a prayer away. It is, therefore, not over 'til it's over, baby. It's only just my 9th week after all.

Pinoy Fare I'm Looking Forward to Eating!

Hubby and I only have nine days left before our flight to the Philippines so let me just say that over the past few weeks, my mind couldn't stop thinking about food  -  mostly Filipino food.

Sinigang na Baboy

There was a day I craved painfully for sinigang (tamarind soup) that the moment I tricked my husband into stopping by the nearby Asian store at our area, I grabbed more than just the Sinigang with Gabi mix from Knorr: I gleefully grabbed a bunch of water spinach leaves (kangkong for us Pinoys!) not for the sinigang (I have bok choy leaves or pechay for that!) but for another typical rural Filipino fare: Boiled Kangkong with Bagoong (Shrimp or Fish Paste  -  I like Shrimp Paste or alamang better).

Boracay Garden & Grill in South San Francisco, CA

A few days prior to cooking Sinigang na Baboy, we went to this place called Boracay Garden & Grill near downtown South San Francisco where we had the Filipino version of Chop suey (sauteed vegetables and meat with thick sauce) and Lumpiang Shanghai (the Philippines' version of egg rolls and/or spring rolls).

And even if I am normally not a fan of Pinoy dessert, my pregnancy hormone just pushed me to purchase, a few days later, not one but two Pinoy snacks from a friend who jokingly once told us that it must have been because of his Palitaw (Flattened Sweet Rice Cake often dipped in sugar and coconut) that we were finally able to conceive. Anyway, apart from his Palitaw that hubby really loves, I also bought Hopiang Ube, a purple yam-filled Pinoy pastry of Chinese origins.

Going back to the countdown to our flight, now that it has started with my luggage almost full, I intend to take back with me to the US more than a year's worth of food-gasmic memories enough to cover for me until our next vacation. After all, one thing my tastebuds have learned in the US is that Jollibee is never the same anywhere else; you just can't duplicate that "langhap-sarap" (Filipino for "delicious aroma/smell") flavor. All those being said, allow me to cover ground for food guru Andrew Zimmern's declaration that "Filipino food is the 'next big thing'".

If I were to show a foreigner why abovementioned statement is legit, I'd have him/her eat:

Lechon Manok from Baliwag

1. Baliwag's Lechon Manok. Or Roast Chicken. I'm very sure that anyone who dips the delectably marinated and fragrant juicy chicken leg in Mang Tomas lechon sauce (not necessarily Baliwag's sauce, I think) and pairs it with steamed white rice will have, afterwards, gone from food heaven and returned to tell a wonderful experience. Coming in close, taste-wise, is Andok's version. It's just slightly more pricey and sometimes a little dry. Either way, roast chicken, Pinoy-style (with tanglad or lemon grass leaves and/or pandan leaves mixed with Sprite for marinade)? It's my "manna" from heaven! Whole Chicken Price: $7.00-9.00

Jollibee's Famous Slogan

Jollibee's Chickenjoy

2. Jollibee Chickenjoy. A half Pinoy I worked with at Bank of America bows down to Jollibee's fried chicken. He said it surely can't be compared to KFC's. Obviously, this guy hasn't been to the Philippines where, many would argue, chicken is cooked and flavored so uniquely and generously well (refer to #1) that big chains like KFC, Jollibee and Mcdonald's (Yes! Mcdo serves fried chicken there!) are neck and neck in the fried chicken business. Why I said such is a reference to my earlier statement that no one can just duplicate that "langhap-sarap" flavor even if it's the same company with the only perceived difference being is location. Apparently, "location" can't just be underestimated when it comes to food as the ingredients are different therefore the taste a little varied and the food practices either more strict or more lenient (Jollibee's "langhap sarap" campaign can't be, uh, "smelled", upon entering a branch in the US unlike in the Philippines). I don't even like Pizza Hut or KFC anymore (that could change once I switch time zones) even with the fact that I now reside in these food chains' country of origin. It's only Goldilocks (I live five blocks away from the nearest branch!) that has been able, in my opinion, to maintain the consistency of the taste of the food it serves. 2-Piece Chicken with Rice Price: $3.00-4.00

Siomai House

3. Siomai House's Pork and Shrimp Siomai. Shao Mai, siumai. Whatever the Chinese agrees on or decides as the correct spelling and pronunciation for this dumpling (just one of the many versions of the Western meatball), however I tweak my own recipe and ask the food gods for favor, no other dumpling can beat Siomai House's product. It's basically a fragrant ball of crushed shrimp and ground pork that's nothing too strong in taste that even dialysis patients like my dad are allowed to eat. Their chili garlic blends well with calamansi (Filipino lime) and soy sauce that a serving (four pieces) or two is more than enough to fill my happy tummy. 4-Piece Siomai Serving Price: $0.50-0.70

Bihon Guisado or Pansit Bihon

4. Pansit Bihon/Bihon Guisado. I really, really want to recommend Amber Golden Plate Restaurant's Bihon Guisado but it's just a little too inconvenient, money-wise and wait time-wise that I'm sure my foreigner friend would happily settle for a lesser known restaurant's version. Suffice to say, one only has to mix thin rice noodles with Filipino Chopsuey ingredients and broth (minus the cornstarch) and have calamansi or soy sauce to taste ready to understand why Filipino-Chinese say the dish lengthens one's life: If mixed well with the right ingredients and secret spices (my dad's not-so-secret ingredient: brown sugar!), it's flavorful enough to make one emotionally happy after consumption. It's also arguably complete where "nutrition" is concerned, as it has protein (meat), carbs (noodles) and fiber (veggies). :) Price depends on size and location: $1.50-10.00

Sticks (apparently, one can't have just one stick!) of Chicken
Isaw served in cups filled with vinegar in UP Diliman.

5. UP Diliman's Isaw, etc. Okay, so at this point, maybe one can already tell that I'm not so much of a health nut but at this number, I'm happy to declare that I'm a food adventure freak! So maybe I haven't eaten (yet) a grasshopper or a live worm (probably not) but "isaw", simply put, is either chicken or pig intestine. The Diliman campus of the University of the Philippines (UP) is famous for its cheap and clean (seriously!) barbecued delicacies, particularly those what Pinoys think as edible parts of chickens and pigs that are otherwise thrown away or set aside as dog food particularly in the US. These delicacies that include but not limited to Isaw (I love "Betamax" or Grilled Coagulated Pig's Blood in particular) are sold by vendors in street stalls in the afternoon. Many people have written why UP Diliman's Isaw is famous. I'd say it's mostly because a.) I'm a proud alumna of the university; b.) the barbecue marinade caters to my sometimes sweet tooth; and c.) I love their dipping sauce served in small cups which is basically vinegar ingeniously mixed with red onions (considering I hate onions to the highest heavens!) and other flavor enhancers that I drink it afterwards (thus my acid reflux...lol). Price depends, again, on serving size and location. In UP, it's between $0.25 to $1.00

Super Supreme Stuffed Crust

6. Pizza Hut Philippines' Stuffed Crust Hawaiian Supreme. I recall a high school classmate saying that Pizza Hut Indonesia has the better pizza (than the Philippines'). Since I haven't been there and I'd have to taste (and smell) to believe, I'd settle towards comparing Pizza Hut US and Pizza Hut Philippines. Or maybe not. No food fights here but my admittedly limited or maybe "enough" experience with Pizza Hut in the US is not really that great. US branches are mostly limited to delivery and pick-ups and I have yet to see a bistro-style Pizza Hut like those that are in the Philippines. As for my choice of pizza? Well, for starters, I grew up loving Hawaiian Supreme but I'm mostly biased towards Pizza Hut Philippines's "melt-in-your-mouth mozzarella cheese baked in a crust laced with a hint of garlic butter". I have yet to eat one in the US that's at par with this kind of food-gasm. Pan Pizza Price: $8.00 to $18

Rodic's famous Tapsilog

7. Rodic's Tapsilog. Shaved beef mixed in garlic rice topped with sunny side-up egg? I just died and went to food heaven! Seriously speaking, this was my typical treat for myself while I was a student in UP Diliman. Rodic's slightly sweet version of quick-fried beef strips (tapa or the "tap" in tapsilog) served with garlic rice (sinangag or "si") and fried egg (itlog or "log") may be a little bit on the expensive side for students and those living on a tight budget but it's definitely worth the little cholesterol ingested, I promise. :) Price: $2.00

______________________________________

So maybe I'm not the most reliable, information-wise and tastebud-wise but one thing that makes eating above dishes so much worth the experience is the Filipinos' way of saying "Kain tayo!" or "Let's eat!". I've tried expressing such to my foreign colleagues but full comprehension somehow just ends where difference in culture begins. A typical Filipino may not have much food in the table but he'd, for sure, gleefully share whatever he has with anyone and that, for me, makes eating a truly enjoyable experience. It also doesn't hurt if the food is cooked well, Filipino-style. *wink*

Therapy

So this is what being in limbo feels like.

And this is what being told you're going to miscarry is like: It's a bad dream materializing out of nowhere, one's worst nightmare coming true.

Anger. Disappointment. Sadness. Fear

My anger stems from wondering why those who do not have the reason, the need, the capacity or even simply, the desire to have kids are the ones who conceive, carry to full term and deliver. My anger reaches boiling point every time I see or hear news of babies or kids being abused by their mothers.

Then I look at my body, my still pregnant body, and there's disappointment.

My frailty gawks at me as I look back at it questioning the decisions I've made in the past  -  what I might have taken, might have eaten, might have done, all those that caused my already broken DNA, what with my own mother miscarrying four times before she had me after 13 years of marriage, to wreak havoc on my reproductive system. And all this time I have been questioning the wisdom of medical professionals why this and that body can function well and mine, after being given that fleeting chance to conceive, can't.

I remember my dad's desire to see me complete and not have his history repeat with me, I feel my husband's love and desire to have a family, and I see expectant moms sport the glow I had for just more than a week after discovering I am pregnant and already I am knee-deep in sadness. I still caress my tummy and take my pre-natal vitamins hoping, praying, wishing that who I am fighting for is still developing well.

But has he/she even developed? I was told by two doctors, a sonographer and a handful of women who miscarried, perhaps out of their own bitter experience, that the baby, my baby was not even there to begin with. See the human in me is afraid I'll be mocked for the actions I've taken and the decisions I've made for this pregnancy. I resigned from my job. I justified my actions to those who told me to take extreme caution in expressing my happiness. The human in me at times is devoid of faith, afraid I can never give my husband a baby, afraid I'll end like my mommy, afraid I'll end up staring in a few days or weeks in a pool of blood and in shock over a palm-sized sac signalling that I'm empty.

Still I am fighting. Just trying to get this out of my system. I still am trying to eat well and take my pre-natal vitamins. I still am trying to coax my little baby to prove the medical experts wrong. I still keep Google up and running for positive stories, for news about miracles. And I still am keeping the belief that the ultimate Medical Expert above has all the right reasons for everything  -  even for those who might not know or understand yet why they conceived, carried and delivered.

Buntis Chronicles: 8th Week (Gone Too Soon?)

I had a miscarriage. Or I am about to. At least that's what my OB said after my "formal" ultrasound yesterday at what's supposed to be my 7th week and 6th day. There was no fetal pole, no heartbeat. Just a yolk sac and what some say as a gestational sac measuring spot on at 17 mm.

In any case, if it is indeed one (as I've not had any bleeding), I really just want my body to pass it out naturally. I don't want any intervention of the medical kind. I just want only one type: the one only God could provide. There are miracles and one miracle is sleeping beside me at this hour so at this point, I leave everything in His capable hands.

Random Thoughts on a Hot Monday

A little bit on the panicky side as I've noticed recently the ebbing of my pregnancy symptoms. I know. Such is not a good thought considering my doctor has once again scheduled me for an ultrasound, this time, a formal one (first time with a transabdominal and 3rd time with a transvaginal). Like I what might have said at my previous blog, she doesn't seem to buy my theory that my little baby's age is just a week off or younger to be specific. My appointment with her's supposed to be tomorrow. I had it postponed to June 20 last week with DH less than pleased as he wants to celebrate Father's Day (June 17) with a full confirmation of baby's presence and heartbeat. And just this morning, expecting a call from Kaiser's Radiology, I called myself to follow-up and got today at 3:30 pm as the only available time. Next one's on June 19 so I grabbed today's. Anyway, I've been talking to the baby while caressing what is supposed to be my 2-month old tummy (looks more like a 3 or 4 month old pregnant tummy what with the bloating and all  -  but that's another story), asking him/her to make his/her presence felt like a little cramp here and there. It may just be my body reacting to what I so desperately want but I'd like to think my little lodger has been responsive so far.

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Watched the video I made for my husband for our first wedding anniversary. Cried again. Still in awe over what God gave me as a partner for a lifetime and more. :)


________________________

I miss my dad. It's an everyday heartbreak for me knowing what he has gone through. And now I don't know if my decision to give away the scanner and printer we have at the condo in Mandaluyong will have yet another drastic effect on him, what with his reaction to the "losses" in his life as per his psychiatrist. My practical side tells me he won't even notice and that these equipment will have better use somewhere else since it's been gathering dust there for a while.


________________________

SpongeBob's "To Love a Patty" cartoon episode was on my mind while I was making my very first burger. My first attempt was totally bland and dry. The second was still bland but quite juicy. The third was burnt. The fourth was juicy but quite salty. The fifth? Well I hope it's going to be perfect. :)

Buntis Chronicles: Week 7

He cradles babies in His strong arms and lovingly forms them in
His creative hands. Credits to advancedphotography.net.

Week 7. Or more like Week 6.

I was at Kaiser yesterday for a last-minute second ultrasound with my OB, Dr. Sharyl Hardiman. Good thing she agreed to schedule me for one as my last few days at work had been full of anxiety for me what with the back pain and lower abdomen strain from standing almost all day and dealing with challenging people.

The anxiety, however, did not end upon my resignation. Expecting at almost 7 weeks to see and hear a fetal heartbeat, there was none. We only saw a much bigger gestational sac and (what I still believe as my baby) a yolk sac. There was no fetal pole and the gestational age (GA) only measured at 5 weeks, 6 days  -  exactly a week off my measurement if based on my last menstrual period (LMP at 6 weeks, 6 days)!

Almost immediately, I was on Google mode, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Luckily, my OB, being the conservative that she says she is, did not say anything about D&C procedures (dilation and curettage, a.k.a. forced abortion) or anything else gloomy. She only delivered a very effective and safe spiel: "I'm sorry it was not the news you were hoping for." She also agreed with me that my irregular menstrual cycle and crazy ovulation could be the reason why the previous dating was off (a week and four days ago prior to said appointment, my LMP was at 5 weeks, 2 days and the gestational age at 5 weeks, 1 day).

Google, like my best friend, presented dozens and dozens of similar questions with positive answers. Like my worst enemy, it also presented a handful of responses that seem so rare and few but are so effective at freaking out a pregnant woman.

Just to get it off my system, similar to said gloomy responses was this: A former schoolmate, a week and a half ago, almost immediately sent me a private message in response to my not-so-discreet Facebook announcement that I was expecting. She told me to try to not be too overwhelmed by the response from friends and families I had been getting as so many things could happen in the next few weeks of my early pregnancy; that it was while working as a teller in an environment similar to what I described earlier in this blog that she lost her baby with no signs or symptoms (no bleeding or severe cramping, just a fetus with no heartbeat).

Naturally, said message felt like a storm (not a rain) on my parade. I obsessed (and still am obsessing) for days about it. News of other tellers miscarrying while on the job also contributed to my anxiety. The peak days of May and June (last day of May and first two days of June), however, became the final straw for me. Ordinarily, days like such that are filled with long lines and challenging customers and colleagues were tolerable for me. Pregnant Me said, no, shouted, otherwise.

Looking back, I still do not regret both my Facebook announcement and my resignation. The announcement was an open praise and gratitude to God as I thought I could not conceive naturally. The resignation from a job that I thought I was handling well was a way to take good care of this blessing that I received from Him.

As for Google's good news? Well, it turns out, IF I am (and I DO BELIEVE I AM) one of the many who belong in what turns out to be an ordinary situation for expecting women with irregular ovulation and menstrual cycles, then the baby, my baby is doing just fine. At 5 weeks gestational age, it's natural to see only a yolk sac inside a gestational sac. It means that our little baby is just a wonderful late bloomer, slow and shy but wonderful just the same.

Such then explains why at 5 weeks 2 days LMP and 5 weeks 1 day GA, we only saw a gestational sac with a little dot inside thought of as the yolk sac roughly measuring 1 mm; that my GA a week and a half ago could either still be accurate and the development was just slow OR it was just wrong and off at dating (ultrasound inaccuracy in dating at early pregnancy does happen!).

I have my original second routine appointment in a week. So what to make of this waiting game? I guess I just have to count my blessings to ward off the negative thoughts in my head:

• With the yolk sac in place, a blighted ovum is definitely out of the question!
• With my uterus thickening as per my OB, an ectopic pregnancy is also out of the question!
• With no bleeding or spotting and no severe cramping and with my HCG increasing (from 11K on May 30 to 14K on June 1 and 20K on June 3), I'm almost very sure that a molar pregnancy is also about to be kicked to the curb!

Anyway, let me end this blog by saying that I am keeping the faith. Last Sunday's mass struck me with this message from Him:

"Give thanks to the Lord who masters the winds

and the raging seas for He, alone,

is the perfect reason, the perfect timing."

Buntis Chronicles: Week 6

Let me start this post by quoting what my good friend and UP Diliman schoolmate, Jacqui Conclara, told me last night: "Pray and trust in God. He didn't take you this far to leave you (hanging)."

Jacqui, I believe, is one of the many whom God used and will use to convey His message of faith and love especially now that I've reached my 6th week of pregnancy. Needless to say, in the tradition of Yin and Yang, in spite of the overwhelming positive attention my not-so-discreet Facebook announcement got, looming at the background are precautionary tales and advice of my OB and some friends and colleagues. I was told to be conservative. I was told to take good care of myself and of the baby and avoid stress. I was told to not expect too much as so many (bad) things could happen. Needless to say, all these had me succumbing to crazy googling about early pregnancy. I needed and still need reassurance that my baby will develop fine and that I will deliver with no life-threatening complications.

What I've been feeling as opposed to what I've learned so far:

1. Nausea is good. It is an indication of good placental growth. I've so far experienced the tell-tale signs of the start of nausea, queasiness (of stomach) and all that vomiting stuff. I could say that I am at the mild stage: to vomit or not to vomit, that's the question. Strong odors, those that I found tolerable and even fragrant before, make me gag and slightly teary-eyed. My thought? Bring it on! Vomit and all. lol

2. Mild to moderate cramps are good too  -  although they freak me out at times. I frequently make trips to the bathroom to check if they're accompanied by spotting and/or bleeding. Nothing so far. Besides, I was told by the pre-natal clerk at Kaiser that the cramps should be severe enough to get my attention or cause fainting. An article somewhere mentioned that if the pain is mostly at one side, it's most likely because it's where the embryo implanted and thus the first one to stretch and grow; that the uterus is a muscle and is growing continuously as the pregnancy progresses.

3. Breast tenderness is TMI but a wonderful information (at least for me) just the same. It's especially painful everytime I'd have to get up from the bed. But hey! It's more than fine for me! :)

Overall, with all these, the human in me, fragile and all, can honestly say that I'm still nowhere near relieved until I hear that fetal heartbeat on June 12 (Independence Day for the Philippines  -  independence from fear for me!). Until then, I know that I just really have to trust that God is cradling and forming my baby in His merciful and loving arms.

Buntis Chronicles: Week 5

May 23: On a random urine test after a whim, I found out I was pregnant. Suffice to say, that was all that I needed to quickly erase any thought of joining the sulking Jessica Sanchez fans.

May 24: Our 28th month as husband and wife. Woke up at 2:57 am. Restless and anxious. Excited too. Good thing there was an OB available to see me this day with just a moment's notice. I bled a few days back and dismissed it thinking it was just my period. It also doesn't help that I've been experiencing cramps here and there. Crossing my fingers that I don't have a molar or a tubal pregnancy.

May 24, 10 am: Nope. That ultrasound picture's definitely not a tubal pregnancy, thank God! But my OB warned me to be conservative about it as the transvaginal ultrasound only showed a bean-like amniotic sac that looked empty. I am only 5 weeks along, after all.

May 24, 5:30 pm: The cramps I've been experiencing on and off returned, this time more magnified than ever now that I'm aware of my condition. I was just told to not do any exercise involving jumping. Do squats count as a no-no? I'm asking because what I do at work involves a lot of squatting to grab my stuff each time what is needed is at the bottom of my workstation.

Ugh. Can't wait for my next pre-natal visit. Until then, I'll just have to pray.

Diskarte ni Lord

And this I would say again: "Pag si Lord talaga ang dumiskarte, laging perfect timing!"

First time I said that was when I first met my husband, Sergs. Our marriage, in my thoughts and in my bestfriend Valine's, is shrouded in mystery, both Divine and Chinese. lol. Seriously though, if one were to believe in superstition and signs from above, the numbers 7 and 8 played, and still play a huge role from how we met, the properties we purchased, when we got married to how we lead our life together.

The second time was when I finally got my US permanent residency application approved. The embassy interview was so close to our birthdays (we're born on two consecutive days in July) that we feared that we might not be able to celebrate together. But for some reason, everything fell into place as planned and as scheduled and I arrived in the US a day before his birthday.

Now for the third time....... dyaaaaraaaaaan!

I'm pregnant! After two years and four months (2+4, 24, our "monthsary" is today, the 24th of May.. oh well) of trying!

An early morning chat with Valine had me dissecting events prior to my wonderful discovery just yesterday:

• May 13: Mother's Day. Someone greeted me "Happy Mother's Day!". I was miffed. Tried to dismiss it by sweetly saying to the person who greeted me that I'm not yet a mom; that I'm just, well, "healthy". How was I supposed to know that I was already close, like 4 days away from my first month of pregnancy? Happy Mother's Day, indeed!
• A week prior to THE day of discovery: A middle-aged Filipino customer of mine cheerfully asked me out of the blue if I wanted to have a boy or a girl. I said I could have anything so long as the baby's healthy. He said I gave him a good answer. Could this be God testing me and my mental preparedness? Based on my discovery yesterday, maybe I really passed His "interview"!

And for the next few months, check this out:

• June: Father's Day. My husband is now my baby daddy! Weeeee. He'd finally stand to be acknowledged in church and receive a blessing from our parish priest.
• June 24-July 8: We'd be in Manila during this week. Part of me prior to the discovery desperately wished I have something "more" that I could take with me to my family and friends there aside from my material pasalubong. Now it's for real! And it's not just a "thing". It's a growing baby who'd be small and safe enough to accompany me during my flight and see me through flight restrictions. By July 8, on our way back to the US, I wouldn't have yet reached the 5th month (of pregnancy) flight restriction.
• July: A truly happy birthday for Sergs and me. :) No more iPads. I'd still go after the Gucci bag though. lol
• December: A truly happy Christmas! Best Christmas gift ever! Doesn't hurt too that I may be on maternity leave already around the holidays. Hehe.
• January 22: Hello, baby! :)

So, see? Pag si Lord, iba talaga dumiskarte. When and if He says no, it only means that we just have to be patient and trust His will. Then again, we shouldn't lose faith in the thought that our persistent and/or silent prayers are heard. That if and when His perfect timing comes, we should trust and believe that everything will fall into place.

So my only prayer this time? A healthy pregnancy. :)

I Am Bella

Earlier today, I met an 11-year old 5th grader who happens to be my namesake (Who am I? I am _____ ). A table away from her at this elementary school where I was a volunteer teacher was a 10-year old named Bella. Both girls received best nameplate awards from me. Call it a biased decision but my namesake (fine, let's call her "Precious") and Bella were very creative with their nameplates. Precious used an alternating color pattern when she wrote the letters of her name and Bella wrote "I Am Bella" on her nameplate (Que Bella! Chi Bello! Get it? Get it?). Suffice to say, both were so creative that I had to justify to the rest of the class why I picked them as my winners.

A few years back, I was sent by my last company to Nicaragua, a Central American country with mostly Spanish-speaking people, to conduct language training to call center applicants. In an attempt to impress my trainees, I introduced myself in Spanish:

"Buenos dias! Yo soy Preciosa."

Dead silence. Fail!

It was my first ever lesson from actual native speakers of Spanish! You see, my parents named me "Maria Preciosa" because first of all, my mom was a devotee of the Blessed Mother. She and dad waited 13 years to have a baby (me!), thus the "precious" part of my name. Such were in my mind, not to mention, textbook definitions that had led me to believe that the only meaning of "precious" was unique and/or valuable.

Uh... No.

In Spanish, especially in Latin American countries, "precious" means "beautiful". If we were to go by all these, my trainees' dead silence after my spectacular introduction most probably was an indication that their thought bubbles contained a response like this:

"Did she really introduce herself as 'beautiful'?"

Or...

"Does she really think she is beautiful?"

Please. Do me a favor and find out the answer, yourselves, from my parents.