Last Year, at Precisely this Hour...

...I was in bed. My partner and I tried to put up with watching TV in the hospital. Deluding ourselves that we could rest.

There is this thing about hospitals--or perhaps it only happens to our family. When we want to wake up, waiting for the nurses to make their rounds, they won't come. And then minutes--or perhaps seconds--when we succumb to fatigue and sleep, they'll come and wake us up. Ugh.

Well anyway, last year, besides trying to watch TV, my partner and I were dead tired. We already marveled at our baby. We ate and drank a lot, and thought we'd burst if we have more. I felt okay, amazing, in fact. I was in a much better condition than the time when I gave birth to Aza.

It was easy for me to fall for Chika. She was tiny and perfect. Her hair was... still is... thick. She was rosy and lovely. And I knew, the minute I saw her, I was already crazy about her.

She is a toddler now. But to me, Aza and Chika will always remain as my babies.