Category: First Gen Asian-American

Posted on

Flippin' Blog!

Map of the Philippines

Alright … I’ve postponed this long enough. If it’s one thing that Filipinos are good at and known worldwide for is procrastinating. I mean really … why else would we have our own “time zone”? (Okay, so Filipino Time is not exactly a zone, per se. Rather it’s a … I don’t know … a philosophy? Lifestyle? Cultural trait?)

Anyway … a fellow blogger I met in Blogger Town (you know, the place next door to Fac.ebook and Mysp.ace?), Joanne just tagged me about a week ago and it was about gosh-darn time I get to it. And because she’s also “Flip“, I figured she might forgive me for following the typical Filipino Time protocol. So here goes …

1. Why did you start your blog?

Well hmmm … I’ve always just loved writing. It’s a way for me to express some creativity and allow me to vent. Back about five years ago, when I was deep in the heart of my IF journey, my Mom had made a simple comment that I should start writing like I did back in high school and college, using the letters I wrote to my cousin as an example. My cousin and I wrote letters much like the two characters in “Beaches” did. She was, in essence, my “living journal” at one of the most confusing and hormonal times in life.

Now, I’ve been somewhat of an inconsistent journler all my life; always starting one but then losing interest in it after awhile … which is why I didn’t start this blog until just over a year ago. I had finally gotten to the point where stuffing my feelings to “Save Face” just got to be way too much. I had to let it out somewhere. And because I wasn’t able to share this confusing and hormonal time of my life with anyone close to me … well, it only seemed natural to put it up on a blog to see if anyone out there could even begin to understand the kind of emotions I was going through.

2. How did you come up with your blog name?

Well … I suppose it’s much easier to send you here to read about my name. Much easier than having to cut & paste. And you get the added benefit of not having to read it again if you’ve already read it.

"Living Journal" Cousin, Dr. Brother & Me, circa mid-1970's

3. Do your friends and family know about your blog and what do they think?

Amazingly, yes. Not all of them read it, but they know about it. The one thing that I’ve found really great about having my family read it, is that they can finally be able to realize just how much of my life has been about my infertility and how hard IF’s emotional toll has been on every aspect of my life. Filipinos tend to avoid talking about difficult issues such as drugs or divorce or … gasp … infertility. This goes back to the whole “saving face” thingy and the extreme loneliness that becomes part of it. By putting my blog out there … well, I’m still able “talk” about my infertility while still being able to show up at family dinners or other social functions without feeling as if I’m “broken” or “weak” or just plain “out of control.”

As far as what they think … well some of my IRL (in real life) friends have posted comments to show their support and agree (or disagree … I love getting perspective from other people) with what I’ve written. As for my immediate family … My Mom, as I’ve mentioned in passing before does read it … albeit inconsistently, as she confessed to me. My MIL (whom I truly love and respect) has admitted to reading my blog, which again, is a good thing. She has, in fact, told me many times that she never truly understood how and/or why I felt the way I did until reading my blog. I also know that my (currently) pregnant-SIL reads my blog … and I’m sure that what I write may have hit many-a-nerve with her. It isn’t meant intentionally or maliciously to hurt anyone’s feelings … it is simply my thoughts, my feelings, my way to vent. I don’t think Dr. Brother or Dr. SIL read this blog, but I could be sorely mistaken. And I know that Hubby reads it. If anything, he’s the one that will reach out and hug me when he sees the sadness in my writing. Or laugh with me about some of the silliness I write.


Mmm ... Yum!

4. How do you write posts?

I guess it varies on my mood from post to post. Mostly, it’s just me writing about me in the first-person perspective. Other times, when I’m trying to be vague, I’ll take on a third-person narrative … but if I start writing like The Rock talks … someone should just virtually slap me. “Can you SEEEEEEE … what the EM is writing?!” 😛

5. Have you ever had a troll or had to delete unkind comments?

Thankfully no trolls. And thankfully no unkind comments. I do get some unsolicited comments with some sort of “sales angle” that WordPress sometimes misses … and those I will delete. Otherwise, I’ve found that any person that has commented on my blog has been extremely nice and empathetic. I’ve “met” some really cool internet buddies this way. And I hope to continue to do so. So for those that might just be lurking … please please, pretty please … I’d just LOVE to “meet” you!

6. Do you check your stats or care how many people read your blog. If you care how do you increase traffic?

Yeah, I admit it. I’m a sucker to see how much my blog gets viewed. I don’t know why. It’s not like this is some sort of “popularity contest.” Really, I just want to know whether or not some one finds some interest in what I’m writing. And I’m hoping that perhaps someone else might find comfort in knowing that they’re not alone in what they might be feeling.

I really don’t do anything to increase blog traffic. I hate the thought of placing ads on my blog. Because even if I do like my electronic “toys” and designer “duds,” I’m still a “respect mother earth” and “there’s gotta be a better way” liberal at heart who absolutely hates mass production and consumption.

*******************************

So that’s that. I might be a little “late” in responding to this meme, but if there’s yet another thing Filipinos are good at … it’s making sure that they follow through in any promises or obligations sent their way!

Now …. hmmm. Who do I tag? I think I’ll ask twoPINK! and kcmarie122 to be the next victims. But don’t feel like you absolutely have to do this just for me … ’cause i’d hate to think that I “guilt-tripped” you into doing this.

How very un-Filipino of me. 🙂 Continue reading “Flippin' Blog!”

Posted on

Love & Coffee (sans Cigarettes)

The other day, Hubby & I hung out at one of the local coffee houses that we frequent. We’re there so much that the baristas definitely know us by now. In fact, the minute we walked into this particular cafe, the barista asked to see the scarf I had been crocheting (well over two months ago, by the way … before Dad was in the hospital) for Hubby. Wow. I guess we’re that recognizable.

While placing our drink orders, this particular barista asked me how long Hubby & I had been married. She chuckled as I turned to Hubby and said, “How long has it been?” (Yeah … I actually had to stop and think about it.) She was suprised to find out that it would be twelve years this coming August, especially because we looked so “young!” (Ah … the “curse” of being Asian American … hated it in college, but loving it now!)

She then went on to share with me that she had been married for 12 years and just recently got divorced just over a year ago. While some days she gets sad that she spent so much time of her life with him, she knows that it was for the best. But the thing that gets her down is that she seems to think that maybe marriage wasn’t in the cards for her.

Of course I disagreed. Because if there’s one thing that I am, I’m a hopeless romantic. I believe that there is definitely someone out there for everyone … it’s just a matter of when it happens. And sometimes it happens later rather than sooner.

I shared with her that Hubby was my first date ever! Of course, it was strictly “as friends” that we went to Homecoming together during my Junior year in high school. And it wasn’t until after high school that we finally started dating officially. What I told this barista, though, was that I knew even back then during Homecoming, that I was supposed to be with Hubby. I was just too freaked out at sixteen to think that this was supposed to be the guy I was going to spend the rest of my life with. And I fought tooth and nail to keep us as “just friends.” But thank goodness I came to my senses and, well … we know what happened in the end.

I feel so lucky and blessed that I was able to find the love of my life at such an early age. I know that if anything (God forbid) should happen where I would find myself single again, I would be absolutely devastated. That, and since I never knew how to work the “singles scene,” I’m sure I’d find myself very very lonely. So for those out there that have struggled or are even still struggling to find the love of their lives, I can honestly empathize with you. And I sincerely mean that.

Because to want something SO badly and not have it within your reach … well I can certainly understand that.

This is the reason why some days I feel like infertility is the “cross” I’ve been given to bear. Here I’ve been fortunate to be given my soul mate at such an early age; someone to spend the rest of my life with. In exchange, the struggle I’ve been given is the difficulty to produce my own biological child.

It’s not much, but that reasoning is something that I use to help me get through each day … each cycle … each year that Hubby & I remain childless

Posted on

Childhood Dreams

Work has been incredibly grueling this past week, leaving me mentally drained each day. It’s not that I’ve been swamped with an extraordinarily large caseload. Actually, that’s more my team’s issue as they are currently covering my caseload right now. You see, the powers-that-be in my position have selected me to be part of a group of RN’s to establish a redesign for the current work flow. Uh … yeah. Like I said, grueling.

Not that I’m excited to be part of this group … it has certainly been an eye-opening experience, and the upper-level executives have thus far been very supportive of the ideas we’ve come up with … it just has left me very, very exhausted.

Today at work, a fellow RN Case Manager shared a video clip of Dr. Ran.dy Pa.usch on the Oprah show. Now apparently this clip (along with the original lecture he gave at Carnegie Mellon University) has been downloaded over a million times on you.tube. So, if you’ve already seen this clip or you’ve heard about Dr. Pausch’s “Last Lecture,” you’ll know exactly the emotions that this lecture evokes.

Let me set the scene. Ran.dy Pa.usch is a 47 year-old father of three and Professor of Computer Science at Carnegie Mellon University. He was diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer which has since metastasized, which currently gives him no further course of treatment other than palliative care. He delivered his famous “Last Lecture” during an ongoing series of lectures where Professors at the University are given the opportunity to give a hypothetical last lecture in which to impart to their students. Obviously, this lecture, titled “Really Achieving Your Childhood Dream,” would be a little more realistic to him. So after watching this shortened version of this lecture on Oprah (the original is about 1+ hours long and visible on you.tube), it’s no wonder that all eleven of us in the room were just about in tears.

Watching this video had certainly got me pondering what my childhood dream was. The earliest memory I have about trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grow up is two-fold. One is of going to the library as early as 5-years old and picking out simple children’s books, particularly a series of books about a young girl deciding what she wanted to be when she grew up. One book was about becoming a teacher, while another was learning to be a “stewardess,” and yet another one about being … da da dadum … a nurse. (Hey, it was the late 70’s and these books were probably written in the late 60’s!) The other memory is of lining up all my stuffed animals (I was more of a plush toy kid than a doll kid) in front of our chalk board and pretending to “teach” them … all to the delight of my Grandmother (who, by the way is 97 this year) who was a primary school teacher in the Philippines.

Unfortunately, I never actually owned one ...
Unfortunately, I never actually owned one ...

But by the time I got to high school, I fancied myself wanting to go into journalism or writing of some kind. I kept journals back then and wrote constantly to my cousin in London, Ontario, whom I considered my “living diary” during that time period. I even had a book of “poems” (more like silly rants, now that I look back at it) that I thought I could turn into song lyrics of some sort. Because back then, I also fancied myself being part of a really cool alternative band. Never mind that I was only a mediocre piano player … I still wanted to be able to tour the world (probably playing my “ke.ytar” a-la Howard Jones).

Alas, those dreams faded once it came time to choose which college I wanted to go to after graduation. Because then it became a matter of “How am I going to make a living?” rather than “What do I wanna do to make my life worthwhile?” The reason it turned eventually to “making money” rather than “dreaming big” is due to the typical Asian-American way of thinking. And that’s having job security and stability.

Eventually I succumbed to pressure and chose a profession that many Filipinos choose … Nursing. That’s because it’s a career that can, not only yield a decent yearly income, but it could provide you with the ability to choose different paths within the profession (-ie- hospital setting vs. doctor’s office vs. university teaching). Looking back now, I think Nursing appealed to me mostly because of the diversity in settings and also the ability to flex my schedule when I eventually had kids.

So getting back to Ran.dy Pa.usch’s video. One of the key things he mentions is having parents that supported him with the dreams he wanted. They, in fact, were the key to allowing him to dream big and to be what he really wanted to be. And while my parents provided me with the desire to always keep learning and the discipline to work and study hard, I can’t say that I was encouraged to dream big … or to even dream “outside the box” of the typical Filipino/Asian American professions.

I’m not writing this to place any “blame” on my parents or to find an excuse for not pursue my “big dreams.” I know that my parents encouraged me to be smart, strong and independent. And they did so because their experience in starting all over in a new country taught them that security and stability in life was important.

I want to be clear here (because Mom, I know you’re reading this) … This “choosing stability over dreams” isn’t the reason for this post. Nope, really it’s going back to that video. And Randy’s parents. And his relationship with them. It’s those things that made it crystal clear to me what my childhood dream was … and that dream wasn’t necessarily to have a career that I was successful AND happy with. Rather, that dream was to grow up to be a warm, caring person who was sensitive to others’ needs … yet still be strong and independent-minded to nurture, not only herself, but others.

I think I managed to take care of the warm, caring person (at least I hope so) through my profession in Nursing. I also think I managed to remain strong and independent. The thing I’m missing is that nurturing part … particularly the nurturing as it pertains to children.

And that’s the dream that I’m still missing … to be that parent, that mother, who, not only nurtures and cares for her child, but also encourages her child to dream … and to dream big.

Okay, so that’s nothing all too revealing. Especially given what the basis of my blog is about. But watching this video … and particularly the real reason Ran.dy Pa.usch wrote this lecture, really really REALLY affected me. It was certainly something that once again pulled on my imaginary apron strings.

I encourage you all to watch the ten-minute video below and tell me what you think. What are were your childhood dreams? And are you living them now?

*********************************

If you’d like to read a follow up on this post, click here!

Posted on

Find out what it means to me …

R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Find out what it means to me

— Aretha Franklin, “Respect“

There are many different definitions for “Respect.” In linguistics, “Respect” belongs to three different classes of words; noun, adjective and verb.

For this post’s purpose, I’ve chosen the verb form of this word.

re·spect [ri-spekt]

–verb (used with object)

  1. to hold in esteem or honor: I cannot respect a cheat
  2. to show regard or consideration for: to respect someone’s rights.
  3. to refrain from intruding upon or interfering with: to respect a person’s privacy.
  4. to relate or have reference to.

A subject of “heated” debate occurred recently within our family. I’m sure a lot of this had to do with the fact that we are all physically and emotionally exhausted from the past three weeks of nonstop activity. Basically what it boiled down to is that apparently I was not showing respect for this particular family member.

I feel I need to preface this by, once again, stating that I am Filipino-American. My parents were both born in the Philippines and my brother & I were born here in the U.S. The reason I felt I needed to bring this up again is because many times I feel like I’ve been brought up in two different worlds. And in these two different worlds, the word “Respect” can differ.

In my “Filipino world,” definition # 1 would be the best use of the word “Respect.” My culture places high emphasis on family hierarchy. The older you are, the more respect you are given. There are many Filipino customs that are specifically meant to show respect to your elders from using a title in front of your older sibling (“Kuya” for a brother, or “Ate” for a sister), to the physical act of greeting elder relatives when they enter a room (a term called “Mano po”). In fact, when speaking to an elder in Tagalog (the Filipino language), it is expected that you add the suffix “po” to most phrases to show respect to them.

In short, “Respect” in the Filipino culture is something that is given to you by right. It’s something that is expected to be given to your parents, your grandparents, your godparents, your older siblings. And because the Filipino “family” is extended to include all relatives and even in-laws … somehow, some where down the line (even if you’re the youngest in your immediate family), you will be shown respect.

In my “American world,” I primarily think that respecting someone (or something like the environment, for example) pertains to definition # 2 above. I feel that respect is something that is earned by showing respect to others … to consider other’s positions, to show empathy for other’s situations. By being successful in doing these (not-so) simple acts, I feel that not only have I earned a person’s trust but I’ve earned their respect as well. Because now, I would hope that in turn, they would show some concern or empathy for whatever situation I might be in … they would respect me.

In short, I think “Respect” goes hand-in-hand with Christianity’s Golden Rule: “… do to others what you would have them do to you.” (Yes, the Catholic School Girl in me is coming out again.) To me, this also means “Respect” goes both ways.

So why the “heated debate”? Well, how am I to blend both these definitions of “Respect” into a bi-cultural household? One way is given by right. The other one is earned. Then … because of 12 years of Catholic school … throw in the whole “Ten Commandments“, specifically the fifth one as it was pointed out to me, and things can get (just a little) sticky.

The Filipino-Catholic in me strongly believes that those older than I am do deserve respect, as they have more life experiences (but not necessarily more wisdom) than I do. Giving them the opportunity to talk and dispense advice (whether it’s good or not), is a way for me to show respect. Although I might not participate in the typical Filipino customs of showing respect (can’t speak the language, and hey … my brother and older cousins HATED be called “Kuya” or “Ate”), I feel that by being polite and showing sincerity to any of my elders is the way I can show that entitled respect.

The American in me, however, has a hard time showing respect to others that don’t reciprocate that respect. How can you show respect to someone who constantly ignores your opinions or suggestions? Or how can you be respectful to someone who won’t stop their angry tirade long enough to hear you speak? They might be your Filipino elders, but wouldn’t you be just as angry and hurt if it was, for example, your boss or a fellow co-worker who was treating you like this? Would you give that person any respect?

What would you do if you lived in my bi-cultural world? What does “Respect” mean to YOU? And who do you think deserves respect in your world?

Sing it, Aretha …

Posted on

Caring for the Heart

So it’s a go. Cardiac cath is scheduled at noon for my Dad today. I’m just hoping that everything will go smoothly and all the docs and nurses and anyone that takes care of him today do the best job that they can.

Ugh. I’m feeling so frustrated right now. Mostly because there is only so much I can do for my Dad at this moment other than just be there for him. The nurse in me wants to do more to help him but yet I don’t want to overstep my boundaries. Because believe me, when working the floors I absolutely HATED when visiting family members pulled out the “I’m a doctor”- or “I’m a nurse”- card, thinking that was going to scare me into making “triple”-sure I was doing the absolute correct thing.

But other than unrealistically flying Dad out to the best cardiology center in the US, I do have faith and confidence that he is getting the best treatment possible at this hospital at this exact time. The best I can do as a nurse is be there to explain to my Dad and Mom exactly what is going on and what to expect … basically be there to translate medical jargon into plain old-fashion English. That, and advocate for them exactly what their fears and concerns and needs are as a patient and his wife.

At the same time, poor Hubby has also been sick with a nasty cold. Which, if there was only more hours in the day, I would be babying him like he does for me when I’m sick. Unfortunately with yesterday being spent at the hospital, I’ve had no time to make him soup or hot tea and just generally be there for him. And I feel like such a horrible wife for that.

I bet y’all are saying … “WTF, Em? You advocate and care for your parents and Hubby, but you don’t advocate for yourself.” The past week (and previous posts) being prime example of not thinking of what’s the best thing for my own health.

Well, I have to tell you … and if you don’t know this by now … Nurses are notorious for not taking care of their own health. I think it’s in any person who chooses Nursing as a profession to care for others before caring for themselves. For me it’s not meant to be a self-sacrifice type of thing; it’s more that I feel that others needs appear to be more important and more urgent than my own. Then throw in the whole Catholic and Asian-American thing and it’s a golden opportunity for feeling the guilt.

Yes, I know it’s not always healthy. And I know that I do need to take care for myself before I can take care of anyone else. Every nurse gives that same schpiel to any of their co-workers (how’s that for the pot calling the kettle black?). But we’re a stubborn lot. We’re definitely a “Do as I say, not as I do” group.

I’m working on it though. This past year has been an exercise of learning to take care of myself. And think of my needs as a priority to others. I’m learning to say NO when I can’t take on anymore than I physically or emotional can. And I’m trying my darndest NOT to feel so damn guilty for doing so.

Right now? All my energy is focused on taking care of my Dad. Because that takes priority. Thanks for all your warm thoughts and prayers.

And if you can, say a quick one for Hubby, too. Because, he too, deserves the best.