At this very moment, I am very annoyed with my body. I have been hit with mastitis, yet again! For the third time already, come on. I don’t know where I’ve gone wrong. I’m still pumping especially when I feel extra heavy after feeding. I even hand-express!
So last Saturday, I started to get the chills and low grade fever, without any engorgement. I practically curled myself to sleep. I thought all these could be because Shazain’s nursing strike. He was latching for only a mere second on both sides. Plus crying from the top of his lungs (No, he’s not colicky and none of my kids were colicky).
Last night was the worst! I ached all over my body and feeding him was the most painful thing ever. So what I did was, after he has fed on the sick boob, I massaged the lump and then pumped it out.
And because I’ve suffered thrice…
It has been 3 months already. 3 MONTHS!!! Time flies with the speed of lightning when you’re not working. And my little rainbow baby has grown chunky!
Nursing him is a breeze, except for those mastitis episodes. Did I tell you I got a recurrence? It sucks. I had to powerpump all the time to bring the supply back up. But I’m glad that I got to experience all these nasty things (mastitis and hyperemesis). So when someone is in need of an advice, I’m right here!
Oh anyway, I wanna talk about nursing. In public. I cannot, for the life of me, understand why certain community in some parts of the world find nursing in public (NIP) disgusting. They have gone waaaaay too far with sexualizing these assets. Puh-lease!!! They have 2 purposes; other than making men happy, they FEED babies. And to me, filling up babies’ tummy with so many nutrients and antibodies, is a priority.
In Singapore, it is HIGHLY encouraged to breastfeed baby (if the mommy is able to). From my experience, I have never gotten any angry looks and stares, or a talk-down aunty asking me to go to the toilet to feed. Yes, I have had onlookers but from their looks, I like to think that they’re proud of me or that they wish they could also nurse 😋. But seriously, all good experience. I met my girlfriends a couple of weeks ago and we had dinner at an Italian cafe, La Pastificio. This cafe, as what it says on that sign, welcomes breastfeeding moms who need to nurse. I didn’t notice that sign until I was done feeding Shazain. We need more public places like this.
…nursing in the bus after his immunisation and developmental check up. See how cool, calm and collected he is. Without a care in the world, eating to his heart’s content. No one bat an eyelid and no one was even bothered to see. Why? This is so natural. That’s what mothers do for babies.
But, of course, moms also gotta play a part by covering up a bit and not showing your boobs. Why? To me, it’s about modesty. Boobs are very private things and I don’t wish others to catch a glimpse of them. There is nothing wrong with NIP but I also believe in not irking the society. There are lots of breathable nursing covers. If baby is not comfortable in it, than moms have to find other ways like pull down your dress a bit just to cover up that part.
For me, I don’t do nursing covers. I use my babysling to cover up a bit as well as my hijab. I wear them wide enough to be able to hide my twins from public eye.
I nurse in public with my modesty protected. 😊😊😊
this is seriously a rant post. i’m not in any right state of mind to determine if it’s my hormones, or my emotions or just plain angry. so let me just rant. this could be what i really want.
i’m standing on the edge of my every nerve while serving my maternity leave. am i facing postpartum depression? *shrug* but everything, every single organism in this house turns me into a monster. let me get it down in details, below.
this is something i cannot deny. i mean, kids are kids. they annoy the very living being in you and this can be done on purpose (or not). one minute they can be so nice to each other, laughing and giggling while playing together and the next minute, they start to bash each other like thunder and lightning. the elder one keeps teasing and disturbing, and the younger one keeps yelling and screaming at the top of her lungs. and while they are at it, the littlest one begins to cry because the eldest two are disturbing his slumber. not only that, his cries also means asking for comfort nursing. and this goes on and on till they go to bed at night.
i try to keep calm every time this happens because i do not want to be stressed and then affect my milk supply. no! however, my emotions always get the best of me. i often take it out on them. i yell, i scold, i punish, i hurl angry words at them. i don’t know where my motherly love has gone to. i cannot find a single strand of patience in me. and i also easily lost my patience at number 2.
having a maid around is never easy. i don’t wanna talk so much about why i employ one because if i have a choice, she will not be what i want in my house. i’d rather manage my own home, kids and family. anyway, this particular maid, my 3rd so far, is one of the biggest headache i have ever had.
she priorities housework more than the kids. she’ll be busy sweeping, mopping, cooking while the kids are running amok playing by themselves. before i delivered the boy, i sat down in the room and had a talk with her. she claimed that she felt ok working here and could cope well. but i knew, from her face and the amount of work she did, she was tired. why? she didn’t know how to manage her work and time well. she liked to do everything at once. from her first day here until now, she would be doing so many things at the same time and then leaving them there, not entirely complete with her housework.
i have been keeping my eyes closed and just let her do her work but something inside me just wants to crawl out and redo what she had done. and that’s not all. if she does any mistakes and either my husband or i point out to her, she will NEVER apologize. she will find every little thing that she can put a blame on or finding whatever excuses she can use. for these nine months of working with us, she has NEVER utter the word “sorry” even for her grievous mistake. she will always begin with “oh i thought this was….”
and recently, she starts to nag at my kids. no, i do not like that! the only nagger in this house is me! no one else can take that spot. and when i ask what was wrong, there she goes blaming the kids. she is the only one in this house who has never done anything wrong. it will either be my fault, hubby’s or the kids’. even if she is the one who broke the plug.
and having a little baby around, even with me sitting next to baby, she can leave whatever she is doing to carry and cuddle the baby. she keeps doing this and it drives me crazy! hello!! i’m here with the baby, you go back and do your work. i’ve told her twice to let the baby in the basket and those were the only times she listened. every time baby squeals or make funny noises when he stretches, she’ll be running to carry him. OMG, she just cannot let the baby be.
if it was up to us employers to do what we want, i would have cleft her with a chainsaw. yes i am THAT mad. so before that happens, i really need something that can keep me at home and that i do not need to go to work anymore. but i don’t mind working from home though, just as long as i don’t have to leave my kids at home with someone whom i cannot see eye to eye with.
for years since i got married, never did i imagine that i would need it. hubby and i had always opted for a natural method of blocking his olympians from swimming up successfully to meet my golden pearl.
recently, we had been discussing of really getting it done. it wasn’t my number one choice, though, cos i HATE invasive procedures. i would rather go through births than that. but when the thoughts of having another round of HG for the whole 9 months crept in, it proved to be even more scarier than doing this procedure.on tuesday, during my postnatal checkup, we told the doctor that we’d be getting the implanon. *sad sad* yes, implanon, inserted right on my left upper arm. doctor counselled me on the side effects that i might be having after this. i wasn’t really concerned especially if they were not life threatening. unless i thought something was wrong, i could always go back.
how did it go? painful, not painful, numb, a little sore, a little bloody and voila. it was in. during my labour days in the hospital, the nurses told me that it was done through a syringe (yea, right!). and hubby thought i was needed in the operating theatre. nope, it was done in the clinic cos it was a super, super minor surgery. just a small incision on my arm.
yea, i was scared when i heard the doctor told her attending nurse that she preferred the blade. anyway…the incision wasn’t painful at all but the general anesthesia, that was horrible. i got bruises right after, like so instantly! about a couple of minutes later, the spot became numb and i turned away once i saw the doctor picking up the scalpel.
during the procedure, doc told me that i might feel hungrier than before so warned me not to put on so much of weight. it would meant that the implanon might get covered in fats and they would not be able to feel it under the skin. which would be difficult when removing it. me? gaining weight? Lol! i thought it was hilarious and wanted to tell her that i hardly gain a pound during all my pregnancies. heck! i couldn’t put on weight at all.
but whaddaya know! indeed i felt hungry after i got out of the hospital. so hungry that i finished my lunch before my hubby did. normally he’d be done with his meal first and waiting for me, who’d take ages. i didn’t know that it would be that instant. shucks!
right now, a day after the numbness had gone, i am nursing a sore upper arm. it is so difficult not to move my arm around especially with a newborn. and i wonder how i will go about doing daily stuff with this matchstick-like implant in my arm.
she turned three, 4 days ago. i thought she is still my little baby (well, of course she is!)and i’m glad to say that she has really made us proud. she hasn’t attended any preschool within these three years because hubby once said it wasn’t necessary. so i have to do something to let her learn her ABCs and 123s (sorry, we Asian moms are mostly a tigress when it comes to learning) through play, of course. i am still a preschool teacher, even at home. job hazard, heh.
and she picks up pretty fast! she recognizes all her colours, 4 basic shapes, numerals 1 – 10 and some letters of the alphabet. not only that, she is also officially diaper-free and weaned off from her milk bottle. all done before she turned three!
she calls herself big sister, these days because she knows that a little sibling is making its way into the family. she keeps telling us that “diapers and bottles are for babies!” 😂
she is happy to use her big girl cup because that is when she can stir her milk with her little spoon. aaahh, that calls for more wiping of spillage.
fateena is such a joy to have around. she is a real chatterbox. most of the time, hubby and i will be shaking our heads witnessing her antics with her nonchalant face. and the silliest thing, she laughs at her own jokes! 😂
i’ll let you be, kiddo. i want you to grow up happy. laugh all you want, as long as you don’t laugh at others. we all need to respect one another. so, offer help and not turning away. and be someone that your big sister can rely on, be there for her. use your ability to make her feel abled.
i love you, Bambam.
I was surprised that I could get over the miscarriage this quick. I was back to my normal self and started to forget that horrible thing that ripped me apart. I thought people around me would be so glad that I wasn’t a whiner.
I knew that there were women out there who chose not to talk about it. Yea, why should they tell a million of strangers (on fb, twitter blah blah blah) that they had lost a child? It was their personal lives, and that other people should not be bothered to be a part of it.
But not me. I liked to tell. I had always been a teller. Whether it was a small, itty bitty thing that wasn’t significant at all. I would tell.
Anyway, I was about to sleep last night, after the two girls had gone deep into the forest of LaLa Land, when my mind suddenly thought of Little Bub (whom I strongly thought would be a boy). I couldn’t stop thinking of him. I had a tugging in my heart, so strong that I began to tear. A little.
But the tugging was painful. Because, there was my love, probably “visiting” me and I couldn’t see or touch him. Let alone hug him tight. Baby, you there??? Really???
I posted a status in fb, saying that I was thinking of Little Bub and that I missed him. Oh so much! Till now, unconsciously, I would rub my tummy. Maybe I was trying to feel him.
Missing Little Bub made me think of Mom. Almost 35 years ago, a year before she had me, she was carrying my elder brother. She lost him when she was 4 months pregnant, which was a whole lot worst than what I experienced. She had so much bleeding one night that my dad called for an ambulance to ferry her to the hospital. Her abdominal pain was so intense that she prayed to Allah, if it was meant to be, let her keep him. If otherwise, she would sincerely let him go back to Him.
And home to Allah, my brother went. Mom told me that he was so tiny and red, and he had traces of curly hair. And ever since the lost, Mom had been dreaming of my brother every year on his birthday. On each birthday, he would visit in her dreams. Each time in each dream, he had grown into a young boy. He didn’t speak at all. When Mom called him to come with her, he refused and was gone. Mom dreamt of him till his 4th birthday and he stopped visiting.
Now, it got me thinking. Would it be the same for me? Would Little Bub come to visit me in my dreams? I would sure love to see him. He had left many tiny footprints in my heart.
Come visit me, Angel. I’m waiting for you. In my dreams.