Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Melting-Pot-Recap Part II

My baby's sleeping... It's really odd. I'll wait for him to fall asleep because I want to do stuff (like update my blogs) but then, when he does fall asleep, what do I do? I lie there next to him and watch him sleep. I've been lying on the bed next to him for the past HOUR and only now I've managed to drag myself out of bed to update my blog.

Okay. Where was I?

Yes, I was going through all the things that occured after Mikhail was born...

Diha the Planner

I've always been a planner. So before I gave birth, I did a LOT of research about childbirth, labour etc. The day before I gave birth, I even conducted a telephone poll, sms'ing and calling my friends to ask them about labour pains and what to expect in the birth room.

But what I failed to do, was to read about what would happen AFTER the baby was born.

I concentrated so much on the pregnancy and preparing myself for labour (ironically, I completely ignored reading stuff on C-Sections which was what I ended up facing) that I forgot to read about what to expect once the baby came.

And the no.1 thing I wish I had known about having a baby join the family is...................................................................................

Sleep Deprivation

I'm so glad that I spent a lot of my pregnancy time sleeping or lazing about in bed. The first couple of months with a newborn was practically sleep-free. I think I managed to get an average of 5 hours of sleep.... PER WEEK.

Trying to be a good wife, I refused to wake Wan up during the night as I felt that he needed his sleep to go to work the next day. But though this was MY oh-so-nice choice, I couldn't help but glare resentfully at him snoring his head off while I was nursing-changing-rocking the baby in the wee hours of the night.

And I remember when he innocently woke up one day (after sleeping from 10pm to 9am while I was up all night) and groggily said '... letih lagi ni... tak cukup tido'...

That was the day I nearly made myself a widow.

Mikhail's nighttime in his early days was when he would nurse for an hour, sleep for an hour and then wake up again to nurse or just to stare at me, his dishelved, red-eyed, pale-faced yawning mommy. He got most of his sleep in the daytime during his intermittent 2-hour naps. A LOT of people shared the advice that I should 'sleep when the baby sleeps' but I'm one of those poor souls who can't fall asleep immediately but need to toss and turn for a good half hour before falling asleep.... by that time, Mikhail would've already woken up for his next feeding.

So yes... sleep was soooo precious to me at that time. One afternoon, my mother marched into my room and told me that if I didn't get some rest I was going to be deranged. She promptly took the baby from me and forced me to get some sleep and I did... for two whole hours... and it was bliss bliss bliss bliss bliss bliss blisssssss..... Thank you so much Mom!

I remember the 1st day Mikhail slept through the night from midnight to 9am... I woke up that morning feeling completely rested. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the clock and realized that my son was still sleeping and that I just had 9 hours of UNITERRUPTED SLEEP. I actually got up and did a little jig of joy.

Speaking of joy.... emotions are completely bizarre in motherhood. Feelings that I used to feel are now multiplied by a gazillion... I'll explain. And let's start with the feeling that apparently ALL mothers are professionals at.....

Guilt

It was 3 days after Mikhail was born and we were still in the hospital. I was nursing him and though I could feel him suckling, I didn't think I was churning enough milk yet. But the nurses told me he was fine and did not need supplementation like formula or water or anything.

Then in the afternoon, Wan was changing his diaper and we saw a tiny little spot of red in it. We determined that his little pee-pee looked fine so we wondered where the blood came from. When the matron came in, we asked her and she said "Oh, baby tak cukup air ni... dehydrated, maybe we should spoon-feed him some formula before your milk comes in"

At that moment, the WHUMP! of guilt landed on my shoulders.

I was not producing enough milk!!!
My baby was dehydrated!!!
He has blood in his diaper!!!
He must be suffering!!!
I'M A BAD MOTHER!!!!

Of course, later the doctor tells me that the red spot was not blood but concentrated urine but still....... the guilt remained.

Fear

We are now at home. Wan has just left for work. The baby is sleeping peacefully next to me after nursing. I stare at him in utmost wonder. This little baby, this fragile person, is left in MY care. He is completely dependent on me. Those smart doctors in the hospital allowed me to walk out of the hospital with this little baby and expects that he will survive in my care.

This beautiful baby is to be carried in my arms, bathed, changed, nursed etc by ME. His well-being, his safety, his health, his happiness will depend on how I nurture and care for him.

WHAT THE HECK?!?

My kitten ran away from me and my hamster died.
How am I supposed to be trusted with this wonderful gift from God??

What if I do something wrong?
What if I do something really really wrong?
What if I do something really really REALLY wrong???

The ice-cold fist of fear clenched over my heart and I was completely frozen on my bed whilst staring at Mikhail. I closed my eyes and prayed hard. Please please please God, please please PLEASE help me become a good mother to my Mikhail. Please guide me and provide me with the wisdom and strength that I need to take this gargantuan responsibility. Please protect Mikhail from his mother's fallacies.

As tears streamed down my face, I realized that THIS is what real fear feels like.
(Fear Factor producers, take note. Can you stimulate the fear of motherhood?).











Hmm... can this huge big lug of a lady really take good care of lil' ol' me?

Pride

Like all mothers, I am so proud of my little son.
He can yawn and I think it's the best yawn in the history of babyhood.
He farts and I think his fart is the most explosive.
He smiles and I dare to bet my life that his is the Most Beautiful Smile in the universe.

Biasalaaaaaa.... ibu.
I know of at least 5 other moms who believe THEIR babies should win that final award.
Pride is just part and parcel of mommyhood.

I remember the day of his aqiqah, everyone was telling me to prepare for the worst. That my baby was going to cry throughout the ceremony because he'd be uncomfortable in the crowd and will be disturbed by the chanting of the selawat. The Makciks were warning me to get ready to hear Mikhail's screams and wailings and how aqiqah ceremonies are never smooth because of all the commotion the baby makes.

Mikhail behaved like an angel.

He gurgled happily into the microphone as the imam held him.
He gazed into Wan's eyes when the daddy was walking around the room with him.
He remained in good spirits even when he was passed around the room.
He even behaved when The Makciks took turns smooching him.

Not a single cry or wail was heard from Mikhail that afternoon.

And his mommy stood in the corner with a big-ass grin plastered on her face, beaming with absolute pride.

Take THAT, you annoying Makciks.
Anger

I once wrote that when I was pregnant, I was very protective of the baby in my tummy and would ferociously lash out at whoever and whatever that risked his safety (including a little girl with a shopping cart in Tesco).

My first experience driving with Mikhail strapped in his car-seat at the back involved a situation where a road-bully jerk behind me drove recklessly, overtook me and dangerously swerved in front of me. I had to stomp on my brakes to avoid hitting him. And as I did that, I heard my baby gasp in shock. The bloody jerk proceeded to rev his turbo engine and speed off.

I could actually feel the hot blood rush into my face and fill my head. The adrenaline was pumping through my veins and my fists clenched the steering wheel as I tried fervently to keep my cool. I honestly wanted to kill the jerk.

I wanted to get a gun (from God knows where) and shoot the jerk at least a million times... just to make sure he's really dead.

I was so angry that I trembled in fury.

Only the sight of Mikhail smiling at me from his car-seat managed to get me back to sanity.







Okay Mikhail, look left... Road clear? Now, turrrnnnn the wheel...
Oh, you see the road bully?
Run him over, my son.

To be continued...

Cheers!

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Driving a car already????
This kid's wayyyyyy tooo advance.
Hahahahah!

Handsome boy u got there, Med!
-aunty gorgeous-

MDR said...

mav, u are so funny! somehow u've summed up all the emotions succinctly...there's no way i could've worded it better ;-)

the 1st week back from the hospital i kept holding my baby close and praying "Oh God..please let me keep her.." It's like u're given this live doll to take care of and ur afraid that she'll be taken away from you, so u pray real hard that she's yours for keeps...strange huh? :-)

 
Lilypie Fourth Birthday tickers