yesterday was day 5 of Aidilfitri and we had few more rounds of visiting. this time most were in the eastern part of this sunny, humid island. and Fateha, she had not been in a good mood. from the first house we went till the last. she was terribly cranky. and i thought she has started recognising people and thought of strangers as “scary people”. those strangers were none other than my extended family. of cos, she has never seen them before.
at my grandma’s, Fateha was carried away by mom and was later coaxed with her soother. then mom saw Fateha’s expression and said, “i think she’s trying to do number 2.”
i glanced at my baby, while popping a pineapple tart. come on, let me enjoy the festive cookies. the minute i saw her face, i knew it. she’s having constipation. you know that expression we do while pushing “it” out, with so much difficulty 😛
i let her be for a while cos she didn’t cry, only grumbled. probably scolding me for not changing her. but it was only an hour. and there was no smell yet. when we got back into the car, embarking to the next house which took us about thirty minutes of travelling, i fed Fateha to get “it” all out. if there was any. she seemed to be okay after that and was back to her happy self again. like usual. phew!
but upon reaching the third house, dad’s eldest sister was having house-warming, Fateha started grumbling again. and this time, it was with very loud wailing. dad carried her and recited something and blew gently at her tummy. still she cried. like nobody’s business. Hubby started getting pissed. not at Fateha, of course. at some people, asking if we had given her the wrong food.
“what did you feed her with?” “did you give her the wrong food?” “you must have fed her with the cereals not meant for babies” “didn’t you check before you feed?”
ARGH!!! i glared at those questions that they shot us with. come on, i may be young but i certainly know and capable of looking after my baby with the best care that i could give. tsk! i have always given her milk on time and gave her infant cereal at least once a day. and Fateha loved it, very much. okay, i don’t wanna talk about it anymore. it hurts.
i had to run to the nearest store to get Gripe Water. i was lucky, REALLY lucky that it was available in one of the stores that i ran into. Fateha gulped 5ml of the liquid and was feeling much better after that. the crying had eased a little but she didn’t want to be put down. she wanted to be carried around. and dad had to do the honour.
she loves tummy time, on my chest, when we got back into the car to continue with our visits. she was teary the whole day. i felt her agony. i felt bad for not being able to do anything magical to rid her pain in instant. i’m sorry baby, i’ll try to do the best.
when we reached my maternal granduncle’s house, Fateha started crying once again. and my granduncle, Tok Ayim, a very traditionally cultured man, carried Fateha and sang some old tunes to her. i noticed something unique, which i have not seen or heard before.
he was doing something while singing. his actions were like grabbing the pain away from Fateha’s tummy, pulled it out and pat it hard into his cushion. the words he used, if i directly translate it here, sounded like this. “i take your pain, put it in the cushion, no more pain, it’s all in the cushion.”
well, it was something like that. i couldn’t remember all of the words but i promise, it sounded like that. a bit funny for some people. but that’s what Malay elders, from the 50’s era or even earlier, would do to babies and young kids. but who cares whether it was for real or not cos it worked! she stopped wailing and crying. and by night time, when we visited the second last house, all of “it” finally popped out. got her changed and tadaaa! no more crying and back into her happy, talkative self.
anyway, this entry is getting too long. LOL. i’ll be back for more of our Hari Raya visits and what Fateha up to next.