after discussing world war II and russian revolution with some friends weeks ago (technically last year), i promised myself that i will watch video-documentaries and movies about these greatest events in our history.

here’s my watching (err buying?) list for the rest of the year.  (thanks to madam ey for the references!)

1. arsenal by alexander douzhenko

2. strike by sergei eisenstein

3. earth by alexander douzhenko

4. a ballad of a soldier by grigori chukhrai

5. a generation by andrzej wajda

6. swept from the sea

7. potemkin revolt by sergei eisenstein

8. dr.  zhivago

9. enemy at the gates

10. mother (based on maxim gorky’s novel)

11. fiddler in the roof

12. all quiet in the western front

well, that makes one movie per month.  not bad.

“just when did you start collecting pugad baboy?!”

batccai (read: bat-chay) asked me, half-surprised and half-amused, through YM yesterday.

“the first time i read one of its issues a long time ago, i’ve been wanting to collect it. it’s one way of preserving my sanity. it makes me laugh, amidst crises” i answered.

“but you only have one copy!,?” she blurted, teasing me like july did.

“i got two now!” i said defensively. “i will have more if you’ll give me some issues of it! hahaha!”

it’s not that only PB keeps me sane. it’s reading that keeps me sane. it seems a growing passion for me. thus, during the christmas and new year breaks, i indulged myself in books, to at least free myself from the pressures of family and work.

thanks to Kuya Thads for letting me borrow his:

BAKIT BALIKTAD MAGBASA NG LIBRO ANG MGA PILIPINO? by Bob Ong; and

NO ONE WRITES TO THE COLONEL by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

i still have to finish

THE AUTUMN OF THE PATRIARCH also by Marquez; and

THE DHARMA BUMS by Jack Keouac

i promised that i won’t limit myself to reading novels. next time, i will buy (or borrow) books that would practically help me, like PREGNANCY AFTER A LOSS by Carol Cirulli Lanham.

***fyi: ccai ccai is one of my close buddies and my partner-in-crime way back in college. we used to delve ukay-ukay along san pedro street, ate skewered grilled banana outside our campus, bantered with classmates in between classes, and played volleyball and kickball during intramurals, among others. she is now in dubai, in search for greener pasture. she’s presently working in the logistics department of the al youssuf company.

whenever i see babies, see pregnant women or hear about pregnancies, or walk through the baby and maternity departments, i feel happy and resentful at the same time.

i thought i was well-over the miscarriage tragedy. but i still have trouble coping up with certain reminders of it.

fifty-four days have passed since i convinced myself that i did not have control for anything that has happened. that i can only control how to deal with it, taking things lightly, that it was just alright, that it won’t happen again. that was how tough i thought i was.

after crying the whole night after i and my husband left the hospital, i promised myself that it would be the first and last time of shedding tears. after all, there’s nothing we can do about it.

the baby was gone. long before i can quite feel him or her inside me. at ten weeks, we saw no trace of him or her aside from the blood and meaty (placental)  tissue discharges.

worse, because some of those who are close to me haven’t seen or held the baby, they have had trouble understanding the depth of my sadness. of which, i have to understand.

i thought that i’m ready for another pregnancy after the loss. but i’m having a hard time convincing myself to take certain tests that my obstetrician/gynecologist advised me to. even though i want to know the real cause of the miscarriage, i’m also afraid that the results would tell me i would have trouble conceiving the next time.

can i take it all over again when it happens? will i ever come home with a healthy baby?

a lot of what ifs, and i don’t want to go through that terrible thing again.

you may read this, this and this…