Stories to Tell is a blog series where I invite guest bloggers to share share their story.
I think stories are wonderful things, and we all have our own stories to tell.
It is my hope that in sharing these stories, we will remember that we are never alone.
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My guest blogger is a friend I met through one of the groups of friends I have. She has asked to remain anonymous as well, because of the nature of her story. Nevertheless, I am proud to know her and share her story on my blog. :)
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It was a sunny, cool day in December, 2010 when I gave birth through Caesarean section to my first child: a lovely baby girl with a mop of fine downy hair, soft supple skin and the prettiest, most pouty lips I’ve ever seen. She is our firstborn, and she might be the only child we’ll ever have.
That is, if my husband and I will abide by my pulmonologist’s advice against having another baby.
Because another pregnancy is no longer safe – I guess I’m lucky enough to be able to physically carry out one pregnancy, albeit not without incident.
Because my lungs may no longer be able to bear it anymore.
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It was in 2009 when I was diagnosed to have a chronic lung disorder. Prior to that, I was only a small child of 3 or 4 when my pediatrician declared me to have “inherited†the asthmatic genes that run in my maternal side of the family. It can’t be helped, I guess; some cousins are also asthmatics, but I couldn’t think of anyone who wasn’t able to lead a normal lifestyle notwithstanding the physical constraints that the illness entailed. If I remember correctly, a couple of my mother’s siblings – an aunt and an uncle, I think – died of asthma, but that was in their old age. So I didn’t think I was something exceptional to not be able to live that normal, physically-active lifestyle that my relatives have.
I guess I thought too soon.
Since childhood, I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t have the sniffles, or a cough, or the wheezes. Sure, I still had a lot of physical activities back then, and led a relatively ordinary childhood – playing physical games and joining a lot of school activities that required rigor and stamina – but even then, and because of my asthma, I couldn’t do as much as I wanted. If I wanted to do something so badly, I had to push myself to my limits. I’ve had this illness to endure for the larger part of my life, and so when I came of age, my apprehension was how it would affect my future – with my own family.
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