Showing posts with label Motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Motherhood. Show all posts

April 17, 2022

Dear Mummy

Dear Mummy

April 17, 2022 0 Comments

Dear Mummy, 

It has been a little over a month since your passing.

I feel as if I still haven't had a chance to properly mourn you though. Over here, I'd be occupied with Joshua and whatnot. When I came back, I felt like I had to be the strong one so I never let myself get a good cry apart from that time at the hotel during quarantine. There were so many times where the tears threatened to escape, and it almost felt like a gargantuan task just to keep them from falling; otherwise I think I wouldn't have been able to stop for a good while.


Whenever I even fathomed the thought about you leaving us, it was always due to old age. ALWAYS. Whenever I saw friends or people of similar age as me post on Facebook about the obituary of their parents, I'd feel sorry for them, yet I would be incredibly thankful and count my lucky stars that I'm one of the few that still have my parents together and alive. 

I'd never, not in a million years, think that this was how you'd leave us.

And so soon.


Dear Mummy,

At those few days during your wake, and to everyone else who sent their condolences to me, I'd always comfort anyone crying by saying that I was just glad that you're free and no longer suffering.

Of course, that's true... in part.

Honestly?

I'm angry at the fact that you're gone. Not at you, of course. I'm angry that it had to end like this. I'm angry that you had to suffer as much as you did. I'm angry that you even had cancer in the first place, just as you recovered from your operation and were starting to enjoy life again. I'm envious of everyone older than you that are still living. Nothing against them of course, but I just can't help feeling jealous. Why are they able to live to such an age while you couldn't?! Why is it that God, if he even exists, take away all the people that are so loved by so many, so soon, instead of just taking away all the evil and bad people on earth instead??


Dear Mummy,

I don't mean to sound bitter. I just miss you so damn much. I have caught myself so many times since your departure reaching for my phone to text you the minute I have any gossip/funny things to tell you, before realising... OH.

I hate that you never got to meet Joshua in person, when he was just mere kilometers away from you. You were so sure that you'd 'see him when we came back in June'.

Lika told me today that she dreamt about you; that you were free and happy- really happy, and I'm glad. Could you please affirm that to me somehow?


Dear Mummy,

I think I'm still in a bit of denial that you're gone. We've always been very loving, and I've always lived for your touch and hugs. Remember how I always said that you had a magic touch that would make me feel better whenever I'm sick? Joshua is a good alternative currently, but I don't think I can come to terms with never having your 'magic touch' to make me feel better again.

Yes, I know that I'm a damn 34 year old woman this year but I'll be damned if I still don't need my mummy. I told you that come what may, I'll always need my mummy. And I still do... even if you're no longer here. What should I do now?


Dear Mummy,

As you know, I'm extremely lucky to have such great in-laws. I have a motherly figure to turn to if I need to. As much as I'm immensely grateful for that, I mean no disrespect at all when I say that she's not you. 

In my journey as a mother so far, I've turned to you for guidance and your opinion on how to handle things. I trust your answers because hey, you raised great kids. Yes, there are other sources I could go to if I need advice. But nothing is like advice coming from your own mother, whom you respect and love. Who can I turn to now?


Dear Mummy,

There were so many things that you had yet to do. You were supposed to come here to Scotland and experience the weather. I was supposed to bring you to the milk aisle of the supermarkets so you can ogle and choose which milk you wanted. You were supposed to have a great bond with Joshua - your father's namesake, and spoil him like you said you would. You've always wanted to see us get married, and you have. You've always wanted grandkids, and now you have; but you've never seen him in person or had the chance to hold and hug him. I know beggars can't be choosers, but it's not the same just seeing him in videos/video calls.


Dear mummy,

I miss you.
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January 30, 2021

My Opinions/Experiences with Pregnancy & Childbirth.

January 30, 2021 0 Comments



I know, I know. So cliche. But I think this is more to remind me of what happened more than anything, as I still can't get my head around the fact that I'm officially a new mum to an actual baby.

While I've always known that I want kids, it has always been childbirth that is the most daunting, and let's face it - the imagery of women screaming in pain and the possible complications that could lead to death isn't exactly advocate material for having kids. 👀

The main reason I want to pen this down is so I won't forget the more minor details of the whole experience; though, 10 months in, I think I may have already forgotten some. I would have done this sooner (and on my laptop, which is waaay better), but for one, I was almost half finished when I realised you have to manually save the post... 😩 And having a baby really does take up every minute of your day!

So here goes, in bullet form so as to (hopefully) not bore anyone:

--> I was told not to expect my water to break like the movies; where it comes in a gush. Most of the time it's just trickles, they said. Well NOPE, mine came in a GUSH. I had been having braxton hicks for about 2 weeks I think, and just as I laid down in bed to sleep, I felt a cramp and then... WHOOSH. 🌊
It literally felt like that cramp snapped something causing the gush. I jumped out of bed; which woke my husband, and although it happened so fast, I immediately knew that my water had broke.

--> That happened around... 11.45pm. I remember going to the bathroom to clean up (the water kept gushing! It's like having water period), and my hands were shaking from nervousness as I knew this was it. I was going into labour. The part that scared me the most 😫. I called the maternity triage, and anxiously anticipated the contractions.

--> It started off no different than the Braxton Hicks. I wasn't sure if it was contractions or not, so I timed them. I read that you needed to head to the hospital once it was 4mins apart and lasted about... a minute? But then of course, the 'cramp' got stronger and more painful 🥴. To describe it, it felt like someone stabbed my abdomen with a knife and was constantly twisting it. Yup, that bad. 

--> I stayed home till I felt like I should head to the hospital. The midwife suggested that anyway. She also suggested to take some paracetamol (which I gladly did and surprise surprise... didn't help! 😪) and have a warm bath. Uhh esscume, my contractions were hurting too much for me to even move, no less haul my ass to the shower 🤦🏻‍♀️.

--> It took me an hour just to get from the bed to the car, I swear to God. The slightest movement triggered another contraction 😒. When we got to the hospital, I couldn't walk the distance, so hubs had to get me a wheelchair. By then it was a little over 8am.

--> When I was finally in the room, a midwife checked to see how dilated I was. And I was 8cm! She said I was doing amazing (as I haven't had any pain relief up till then). Honestly, as I had no prior experience, by 'dilating', I expected my vagina to be gradually stretched open until it would be eventually like a 'UNLEASH THE KRAKEN' kinda gaping hole 😅😅. But I didn't feel that kind of stretch at all; or maybe I just hadn't noticed 🤭

 --> The midwife said I should reconsider having an epidural (a decision I've made my mind up on ever since I knew I was pregnant 🤣), since I seem to be 'doing so well'. But I insisted. Anything to stop the pain!

--> In the meantime, I was given gas+air, aka laughing gas. Sure as hell didn't make me laugh though. 😒😅 It made the pain just a teeny bit better, but more than anything, it just made me drowsy, floaty and sleepy. To the point where when I was injected with the epidural needle, it just felt like a regular injection to me; I was too sleepy to notice much. 

--> After the epidural was administered and I gradually stopped the gas, I came out of that cloud of haze. I was literally myself again as I felt no pain. SWEET MOTHER OF RELIEF! 

--> I could actually munch on the biscuits and drinks that we brought, and it felt like I was actually just hanging out waiting for baby to pop. I was chatting to the midwife and trainee midwife and pushed when I was told to, as I couldn't feel my contractions save for a teeny, almost not-there rumble-like feeling occasionally.

--> One other nurse began making regular appearance, as baby didn't seem to be coming out, and it's been a few hours. A decision was made that if baby wasn't born by 3pm, I needed help from a doctor to deliver him. Thinking back to it now, it feels worrying, but maybe because I had been foggy on gas before and was currently on epidural, I didn't feel worried at all then. Hubs admitted he was though. I just felt chill the entire time.

-->  I ended up needing a ventouse. The doctor came in and explained everything that was going to happen, and back then everything was a-okay for me because I literally felt great about not being able to feel any pain. My legs were held up in stirrups, and I remember thinking that that was how I had envisioned labours to be, judging by all the childbirths in all the movies I've seen. I saw the doctor and nurse/midwife getting everything ready, and couldn't help thinking this is it. It's finally happening.

--> I felt nothing so far when the doctor fiddled about below, which I wasn't complaining about. But then I felt this immense stretch that, if I hadn't tried not to focus on, would have actually felt a bit painful. Then the time came and I was told by the doctor that on his cue, I was to push as hard as I could.

--> I did, and right then, I definitely could feel myself stretch like I've never felt before. Don't get me wrong; it wasn't painful per se, but in that moment, I was afraid that my vajayjay would literally tear open. (Again, THANK YOU EPIDURAL!)

--> I felt something akin to a jellyfish slide out, and then came that momentous cry. Joshua was wrapped in a towel and put on my chest immediately, umbilical cord still in tact. And it felt somewhat... weird. I wasn't a bag of emotions or overcome with any sort of joy. I think I was too much in shock (still) that I've had a baby. I didn't feel that immense love and protectiveness that is so stereotypical and associated with the birth of a child; but I didn't feel negatively either, which was good.


Basically, it was only a day or two later that I actually started feeling that 'immense motherly love' for Joshua. I was absolutely besotted with him.
I was absolutely clueless about how to take care of this helpless living thing, but I'll be damned if I don't try.

For a first time parent though, I have to admit that he hasn't been the easiest of babies. Even now at almost 11 months.
I admit I had (mild) depression in the past and was prepared to experience some form of post-partum depression, but hand to chest, when I say that I've never contemplated suicide so many times in my life and came close to actually doing it... THAT, I wasn't prepared for.

I LOVE my boy and would lay my life for him in a heartbeat; make no mistake. But the challenge and struggle is real. The only thing keeping me sane is an amazing, supportive husband.

So I will keep pushing on.
For me.
For my husband.
For my boy.
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