Counting the days to turning 39

In 5 days, I will be 39 years old.  Just typing it down feels old.  (I can almost hear my brother, Abril, tell me, “Matanda ka na.”)  But it feels old in a good way.  I don’t feel like I’m outdated.. or past my prime — I just feel wiser, knowing I’m a better person now that I was anytime before this point in my life.

I feel complete, too, now that I not only have Alan in my life, but I have Angelo as well.  At night when I lie down between father and son, and I’m cradling Angel in my right arm as he nurses to make sure he doesn’t fall off the bed (again), I sometimes reach out to Alan and try to hold him, too, if he doesn’t snuggle close to me and hug me from  his side of the bed. 

Being a young family is something very exciting for us.  Alan and I have all these plans for our little one.  Planning his first birthday almost a month after I turn another year older is a major production I’m putting my heart and soul into.

And yet as another year passes, part of me wonders if beyond becoming a mother, I have done anything more to become a better person.  Sometimes I can’t help but wonder where I would be now if I had chosen a different path, or if I had made different decisions in my life.  All I know is that nothing compares to holding Angel in my arms.  Nothing is more magical than hearing his laughter ringing as I play with him.  And even if it tugs at my heart each time he reaches out for me to go and pick him up, it gives me a sense of being needed which compares to none.

So I’m turning 39 looking older but not exactly 39.  I’ve managed to build a family, in my own home after being married for just 5 years.  Being 39 isn’t so bad after all, more so if you wake up each day next to this man I call my husband, and this bundle of joy who lights up my world.

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