BIRTH ANNOUNCEMENT
LORENZO and RENEE SERENO
are proud to announce the arrival
of their first baby daughter,
REANNA LOREN SERENO
last Thursday, May 13, 2004
at 9:15 in the evening.
She weighed in at 7 pounds 9 ounces
and was 18 inches in length.
REANNA LOREN now joins her brothers, LANCE and TROY,
and Spot the Pit Bull, at the SERENO family residence in Modesto, CA.
LORENZO and RENEE wish to thank everyone
for their prayers during Renee's pregnancy,
And give praise and thanks to THE LORD
for REANNA LOREN's safe delivery.
(Reanna Loren's webpage may be viewed at
http://www.dmc-modesto.com/CWS/VirtualNursery.aspx?urlid=4V0S9X4O7J
Please feel free to leave a message for the Sereno family.)
Thursday, May 06, 2004
A MOTHER'S WAIT
(MOMMY and TROY: her baby, but not for long.)
It's the calm before the storm.
Just yesterday, I successfully passed my 36th week of pregnancy. I have officially broken Troy's record. Just one more week and the baby will be considered full-term, an unprecedented victory for Lorenzo and me.
So far, the terbutaline has been keeping my womb at bay. I really believe I would've given birth two weeks ago if they didn't administer this drug back then. Good thing we got to the hospital early. It was enough to earn us a two-week reprieve.
Tomorrow, I take my last four white pills. And then the fun begins. I wonder how far I can go without my terbutaline crutch?
As it is, I already feel like I'm on borrowed time. Just a few hours ago, I slipped and fell on the bathroom floor while giving my kids a bath. After the initial scare, I scrambled to call my OB-Gyn's number. The doctor on call was very reassuring, telling me I fell on the best possible place, my posterior. I made an appointment to come in tomorrow anyway, just to be sure.
(Troy falls asleep on Daddy's shoulder during Mom's last prenatal visit.)
So here I am, gingerly approaching the final stretch of my pregnancy. My body is a hodgepodge of hormones, with emotions running the gamut from doubt to exhiliaration. Lately, I've had to deal with crippling bouts of guilt. Guilt towards Troy, who's blissfully unaware that his days as baby of the family are numbered. I wonder if all pregnant mothers feel the same way towards their youngest offspring.
These days, I can't seem to get enough of Troy. I find myself staring at him several times a day, taking in his big, expressive eyes, his silky-soft alabaster skin, his baby-fine brown hair ending in ringlets around his shoulders. I used to stare at Lance the same way during his last days as "only child", praying that the coming baby would be just as beautiful as he was. I got my wish, and then some.
Indeed, Troy is so beautiful, he is always mistaken for a girl. And when we inform well-meaning people that they are actually looking at a boy, we usually get the same response: "He's pretty enough to be a girl." Lorenzo and I don't mind this at all. And now that we're finally awaiting the arrival of our first daughter, it's actually easier for us to visualize how his baby sister will look: just imagine a prettier version of Troy wearing a dress.
(Troy and Mommy, waiting for her last sonogram.)
When I was pregnant with Troy, I showered Lance with many lifetimes worth of hugs and kisses. This was my way of making up for displacing him from his elevated status as "only child". Oh sure, Lorenzo and I had kids of our own before we had Lance, but Lance was the first child we could truly consider OUR OWN.
I can still remember how he looked, standing in his crib, the day Troy was born. He was still tousled from sleep, wearing his white t-shirt with the blue sailboat in it. We captured it all on video: Mom, freshly showered, visibly suffering from labor pains, Daddy putting a pair of shorts on him, telling him we had to go to the hospital so Mommy could have his baby brother. Lance was still a baby then, at 20 months. It broke my heart to leave him at Lorenzo's parents' house, knowing he wasn't used to being away from us.
Now that I'm nearing my due date, I am thankful that my kids are at an older age. Troy, my youngest, will be three in July, and doesn't suffer from separation anxiety anymore. Lance, who's four and a half, will be entering kindergarten in August. When I finally go into labor, it's good to know I can leave them with any of their uncles and aunts in Modesto, and they'll be none the worse for wear.
(Lance and Troy, soon to be "kuyas" to their coming baby sister.)
Lance is now growing so fast that none of his clothes fit him anymore. Apart from the obvious physical changes, his social circle has also widened to accommodate his new friends from school. It took a while, but I have now admitted to myself that his world doesn't revolve around our family anymore. Such is the circle of life.
Now that Lance is well on his way, my focus is shifting to Troy. When Lance leaves for his pre-school class, from 12-3 PM, Troy and I have three precious hours to ourselves. It is during these times, when he is away from the shadow of his big brother, that his personality shines through.
Sometimes, we would play games. Troy invented a game he calls "Animals", where Mommy would make an animal sound and he would guess what animal it was. I think my baby is a budding herpetologist. Considering how squeamish I am, I'm surprised to find him so fascinated with snakes, frogs, spiders and sharks, creatures that generally fill me with dread. Troy also knows his dinosaurs by sight, and not just the run-of-the-mill ones like T-Rex and Stegosaurus, but more unusual ones like Velociraptor, Allosaurus and Parasaurolophus. He and Lance have already decided that Mommy was a Brachiosaurus, Daddy was Gallimimus, Lance was a Triceratops and Troy was a T-Rex.
Whenever Troy sees me looking for something, he would get a mischievous look about him. This would be my cue to ask him if he knows where it is, and he would say, "I ate it!" I also love to ham it up for him, pretending something hurts, wailing, "Troy, I have an owie in my eye!" My son would then rush to me so he could kiss the "painful" area, making Mommy feel miraculously better. Troy has always been very sweet and nurturing, and I attribute his demonstrative nature to the bonding we forged while he nursed exclusively.
Lance is also demonstrative, and he isn't stingy with his "I love you"s. Late last month, he took home a picture of his, taken in school, framed in purple construction paper and adorned with buttons. He gave it to me, saying it was "Mommy's Day". I didn't think he meant Mother's Day, since it was still April, so I just assumed it was one of those days they made up in school, like "make someone happy day", and I let it go at that.
A few days later, I got a call from Mrs. Andrea, Lance's preschool teacher, telling me Lance took home his Mother's Day present by mistake. I guess my son was so proud of his project, and so excited to give me his present, that he didn't want to wait for Mother's Day to come. I had my son return the framed picture, telling him his teacher was going to add "something nice for Mommy", reassuring him that he WILL get his card back so he could give it to me again.
And so I enjoy these final days of pregnancy, revelling in the company of my two boys, who will always be my babies. I am now a seasoned veteran, a mother who's only too familiar with this idyllic period, the calm before the storm. Pretty soon, another baby will come, forever changing my family as I know it.
And life will never be the same.
(MOMMY and TROY: her baby, but not for long.)
It's the calm before the storm.
Just yesterday, I successfully passed my 36th week of pregnancy. I have officially broken Troy's record. Just one more week and the baby will be considered full-term, an unprecedented victory for Lorenzo and me.
So far, the terbutaline has been keeping my womb at bay. I really believe I would've given birth two weeks ago if they didn't administer this drug back then. Good thing we got to the hospital early. It was enough to earn us a two-week reprieve.
Tomorrow, I take my last four white pills. And then the fun begins. I wonder how far I can go without my terbutaline crutch?
As it is, I already feel like I'm on borrowed time. Just a few hours ago, I slipped and fell on the bathroom floor while giving my kids a bath. After the initial scare, I scrambled to call my OB-Gyn's number. The doctor on call was very reassuring, telling me I fell on the best possible place, my posterior. I made an appointment to come in tomorrow anyway, just to be sure.
(Troy falls asleep on Daddy's shoulder during Mom's last prenatal visit.)
So here I am, gingerly approaching the final stretch of my pregnancy. My body is a hodgepodge of hormones, with emotions running the gamut from doubt to exhiliaration. Lately, I've had to deal with crippling bouts of guilt. Guilt towards Troy, who's blissfully unaware that his days as baby of the family are numbered. I wonder if all pregnant mothers feel the same way towards their youngest offspring.
These days, I can't seem to get enough of Troy. I find myself staring at him several times a day, taking in his big, expressive eyes, his silky-soft alabaster skin, his baby-fine brown hair ending in ringlets around his shoulders. I used to stare at Lance the same way during his last days as "only child", praying that the coming baby would be just as beautiful as he was. I got my wish, and then some.
Indeed, Troy is so beautiful, he is always mistaken for a girl. And when we inform well-meaning people that they are actually looking at a boy, we usually get the same response: "He's pretty enough to be a girl." Lorenzo and I don't mind this at all. And now that we're finally awaiting the arrival of our first daughter, it's actually easier for us to visualize how his baby sister will look: just imagine a prettier version of Troy wearing a dress.
(Troy and Mommy, waiting for her last sonogram.)
When I was pregnant with Troy, I showered Lance with many lifetimes worth of hugs and kisses. This was my way of making up for displacing him from his elevated status as "only child". Oh sure, Lorenzo and I had kids of our own before we had Lance, but Lance was the first child we could truly consider OUR OWN.
I can still remember how he looked, standing in his crib, the day Troy was born. He was still tousled from sleep, wearing his white t-shirt with the blue sailboat in it. We captured it all on video: Mom, freshly showered, visibly suffering from labor pains, Daddy putting a pair of shorts on him, telling him we had to go to the hospital so Mommy could have his baby brother. Lance was still a baby then, at 20 months. It broke my heart to leave him at Lorenzo's parents' house, knowing he wasn't used to being away from us.
Now that I'm nearing my due date, I am thankful that my kids are at an older age. Troy, my youngest, will be three in July, and doesn't suffer from separation anxiety anymore. Lance, who's four and a half, will be entering kindergarten in August. When I finally go into labor, it's good to know I can leave them with any of their uncles and aunts in Modesto, and they'll be none the worse for wear.
(Lance and Troy, soon to be "kuyas" to their coming baby sister.)
Lance is now growing so fast that none of his clothes fit him anymore. Apart from the obvious physical changes, his social circle has also widened to accommodate his new friends from school. It took a while, but I have now admitted to myself that his world doesn't revolve around our family anymore. Such is the circle of life.
Now that Lance is well on his way, my focus is shifting to Troy. When Lance leaves for his pre-school class, from 12-3 PM, Troy and I have three precious hours to ourselves. It is during these times, when he is away from the shadow of his big brother, that his personality shines through.
Sometimes, we would play games. Troy invented a game he calls "Animals", where Mommy would make an animal sound and he would guess what animal it was. I think my baby is a budding herpetologist. Considering how squeamish I am, I'm surprised to find him so fascinated with snakes, frogs, spiders and sharks, creatures that generally fill me with dread. Troy also knows his dinosaurs by sight, and not just the run-of-the-mill ones like T-Rex and Stegosaurus, but more unusual ones like Velociraptor, Allosaurus and Parasaurolophus. He and Lance have already decided that Mommy was a Brachiosaurus, Daddy was Gallimimus, Lance was a Triceratops and Troy was a T-Rex.
Whenever Troy sees me looking for something, he would get a mischievous look about him. This would be my cue to ask him if he knows where it is, and he would say, "I ate it!" I also love to ham it up for him, pretending something hurts, wailing, "Troy, I have an owie in my eye!" My son would then rush to me so he could kiss the "painful" area, making Mommy feel miraculously better. Troy has always been very sweet and nurturing, and I attribute his demonstrative nature to the bonding we forged while he nursed exclusively.
Lance is also demonstrative, and he isn't stingy with his "I love you"s. Late last month, he took home a picture of his, taken in school, framed in purple construction paper and adorned with buttons. He gave it to me, saying it was "Mommy's Day". I didn't think he meant Mother's Day, since it was still April, so I just assumed it was one of those days they made up in school, like "make someone happy day", and I let it go at that.
A few days later, I got a call from Mrs. Andrea, Lance's preschool teacher, telling me Lance took home his Mother's Day present by mistake. I guess my son was so proud of his project, and so excited to give me his present, that he didn't want to wait for Mother's Day to come. I had my son return the framed picture, telling him his teacher was going to add "something nice for Mommy", reassuring him that he WILL get his card back so he could give it to me again.
And so I enjoy these final days of pregnancy, revelling in the company of my two boys, who will always be my babies. I am now a seasoned veteran, a mother who's only too familiar with this idyllic period, the calm before the storm. Pretty soon, another baby will come, forever changing my family as I know it.
And life will never be the same.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)