Monday, 12 November 2012

I'm a Mama!

You know how I always apologised for not writing as often as I used to because I was busy? This time I won't; not because I enjoyed every second with my beautiful baby (any first-time mothers would agree that taking care of a baby is not the easiest thing), but because I loved every second just being with him. Yes, there were moments that I didn't enjoy such as giving birth (oh THE pain!) or when I couldn't for the life of me understand why he was crying incessantly (turned out he just needed a diaper change, silly mama!). Nonetheless, I love this little guy to death and so each moment with him is simply precious. No matter how tired I get taking care of him, I will never trust a stranger to even hold him.

The fateful day was Monday, on the 27th of August 2012. I had submitted my last work task that morning (received a call  from the boss on Friday asking if I was still strong enough to work from home and I said yes, because I felt totally normal). That afternoon at the family home with my two younger sisters exactly after we finished watching Batman the movie, my water broke at 3pm. It was like a waterfall down there and I wet the floor as I rushed to the bathroom. I was both nervous and excited, making frantic calls to Rafiee, Ayah and Mama. 

I knew from the antenatal course both my husband and I attended a couple of months before that I had a few hours so I showered and had an early dinner. When the husband came home after work at 6pm, he drove me to the hospital with Mama. That was when the pain started, prompted by the doctor who shoved his hand into you-know-what to check for dilation. That wasn't the worst part, of course. The 45-minute push surprisingly wasn't it as well. The worst was when the doctor shoved his hand again to further break my water bag and the contraction leading to the 10-cm dilation. 

My knees were shaking and I was biting my towel the whole time. It was so painful that I couldn't even cry. I just wanted someone to knock me down so I could skip the pain part and just wake up with a baby by my side. I think I was in pain from 6.30pm and as I requested for an epidural, the doctor confirmed that it was too late and I was ready to push! With my husband comforting me on my right  (he was the only one looking at the wall behind my head; he can't stand blood and blood was gushing out of me profusely) and my mom on my left giving instructions, I pushed with all my might and voila, he was out at 10.15pm. Our gorgeous baby, all bloody and icky.

I was told that all the pain would go away once you lay your eyes on the baby and guess what... they were wrong! Mama was like "Look look, that's him!" and my first two words were "Phew, finally!". I could still feel the pain down there as the doctor stitched me up, but later that night when the nurse handed me Youssef, I felt tremendous love rushing in. I felt like I wanted to protect this little creature and I couldn't stop staring at him as he slept. I still do, but now I fall asleep watching him as I don't get my 8-hour slumber. I still get six hours of sleep, but not continously as he wakes up every two to three hours. At least I don't have to change his diaper in the middle of the night, that's Rafiee's scope of work. He's a wonderful husband and even a more wonderful father, so that makes everything much easier. 

After a few days, I still didn't feel like a mother. I was, what my family described, like a robot. The baby cried and I instinctively fed him. Everyone else was speaking to him and I just felt silly having a one-sided conversation with someone who couldn't understand a word I was saying. Then somehow, gradually, without even realising it, I grew into it. I was thinking out loud whenever I was with him, like "Gosh that Kim Kardashian is so spoilt. I like Khloe, she seems normal. Urgh, I'm hungry again. Maybe I can find chocolates in the fridge." I still do that, but now I also sing. It was some boy band songs at first (since their songs are so catchy I don't even have to try memorising the lyrics) but now I can also belt out a few nursery rhymes.

So this is my sweetheart, not even a day old yet...

And this is him in his first month, enjoying the view of birds flying past the window before his bath...

And this is him at two months ++!

Born 3.2 kg, he was so tiny in my arms. But now he weighs 6.3 kg and giving him a bath is a backbreaking feat! Motherhood is not as easy as I thought (I can understand why some full-time housewives still have a nanny) and one needs a lot of energy to keep up, but one thing for sure... it's extremely rewarding.