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#Blog it for babies: My birth story

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Okay, saw this going around and I thought this could serve as free therapy while I’m doing a good deed. So here goes, the story of Emms’ birth.

I had a “normal” pregnancy or a what I thought was a normal pregnancy. We had assumed that my extreme mood swings were caused by the hormones taking over my life. In fact, it was hypothyroid and it plagued our lives for at least a year. I felt extremely tired, got crossed with hubby over everything and after I had baby I felt teary, unable to cope and yes, moody! The good part was that I didn’t gain almost any weight(I put on 7.5 kilos only during the entire pregnancy) and I lost the baby weight and loads more in two weeks after I had her. I am writing all these because many times we bitch about women who have lost their pregnancy weight very quickly, unaware of the fact that there might be a medical condition behind all the happy appearances.

Anyway, going back to the event itself(do I really want to do this??), it started on a Wednesday morning but because there wasn’t much more than slight back pain and a bit of bleeding we decided to carry on with our day as normal. I drove myself to the hospital just to have them check and dismiss me(“Call back when your contractions are 5 minutes apart!” “Hmm,what?!?”). I went and had my hair dyed and cut after that and hubby went to Derry(a mere two-hour drive away) on business. The real deal(or what I thought was the real deal) started in the evening. But it was still just dull back pain and very disparate contractions so I sent hubby to bed and I soldiered on till 2 a.m. Then everything stopped and I went to bed, what else? The following day hubby decided to stick around, hopeful that things will progress and baby will be scared out of my womb by his presence. It didn’t happen. I had a lazy day in bed and then around 7 p.m. I started to feel things heating up again. By 11 p.m. I was in so much pain he had to drive to the hospital again although the nurse on the phone told us to stay home on Paracetamol. Hmmm, really? Got there, was put on very strong painkillers, got a bed and then…everything stopped. I didn’t want to go back home so I decided to stay with all those women moaning and giving birth around me. I thought the atmosphere might spur baby on. Hmmm, no, it didn’t. At noon on Friday they were ready to send me home but I refused to budge. The novelty of the giving birth thing was wearing off, you see. Anyway, they kept me in and around 7 p.m. on Friday my waters broke and it started. I did well for a couple of hours but once they took me into one of those small, claustrophobic “birth suites” I  started to feel VERY uncomfortable. The baby must have been back to back because it took FOREVER and a day. And then the nurse said I was only 5 cm and I completely lost it. I inhaled gas and air while they put the epidural in and it all went silent from there. I felt strangely euphoric with the drugs and the tiredness. I had to push for an hour or so and then they forgot to tell me to stop and it all went very…wrong “down there.” But when the nurse said: “There’s a head of dark hair coming out” I knew. I knew my dreams had come true. I knew I was having a girl. A girl who looked like the man I loved the most in the world. A girl I will cherish and dress up forever! And nothing else mattered.Well, maybe a little bit, the part when I got stitched up for literally hours and the nurse asked casually over her shoulder “Does this bit fit here, you think?”

Oh, I am putting on a photo from when we went home three days later. Hubby lost all the birth photos and videos. As you do…

Mother and baby

This blog post was written for Save the Children’s BlogitforBabies campaign.  Every hour of every day, 11 newborn babies die in Bangladesh. That’s about one every six minutes.  1 in 19 children do not live to see their fifth birthday in Bangladesh because access to basic services such as healthcare is very limited, particularly in rural areas.  For every 10 births in Bangladesh, 8 mothers have to give birth in their home without a skilled health worker present, putting the life of their baby at risk.

Please help Save the Children to raise money to build 7 new clinics in Bangladesh.  

The new clinics in Baniachong and Ajmiriganj will reach 21,500 women of child-bearing age with family planning services; 3,000 pregnant women with antenatal care; 2,190 newborn babies with postnatal care, breastfeeding support for their mothers and antibiotics when they become ill; 2,218 infants aged up to one year, by helping their mothers to breastfeed and wean them safely and reducing the chance of life-threatening diseases such as diarrhoea and the risk of malnutrition and 43,600 people in the area with information on how to stay healthy and where to get help if they do become ill.

Compelled by His loving kindness…

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I haven’t posted in absolute ages. I had little to say. Little made sense to my mind in the last couple of weeks.

You see, things haven’t been right with us for a while…Who am I kidding? For a long time. Forever. The way we started wasn’t right. It wasn’t how God had intended it. But I didn’t think He would mind. After all, I was trying to build a family and He loves and blesses families, right? Right?? So a harsh word here and an out of proportion reaction there weren’t going to matter. Except for the fact that I was trying to build a life outside His will. On the other side of the barricades, someone else was trying to build business(es)  in order to support his family. And God loves enterprising people, right? Right?? So a late night here and a weekend spent solely working there weren’t going to matter. Except for the fact that he was trying to build a business outside His will.

It took Him five and a half years. It took Him taking everything that we held dear and based our identity on. Our house and our financial security. Our control on how things should be with our health, our work, our finances. And then we were free to listen. Free to ask for forgiveness. Free to start all over again. This time, the way He intends to. ‘Cause I’m not moving one single step without His guidance. i don’t want to fall away from His loving kindness ever again. It just doesn’t make sense, you know ;-)?

And He granted us freedom...not to achieve whatever we have set our minds and hearts on but freedom in Him!

 

 

In action

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I haven’t blogged in a while because there have been many things happening with us and I’m still trying to sort my thoughts. There’s nothing coherent in my head to write about yet.

I am taking part in the Gallery tomorrow so I’m going to post a few pictures related to this week’s theme: activity.

Talk soon!

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On illness and encouragement

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Okay, I was hoping to go and see the Titanic Quarters last weekend but the opportunity never materialised. Instead I was back to nursing sick people in our home. This time it was my hubby. He came down, fast and furious, with the same throat infection Ems had at Easter. And I was not a happy bunny!!

It’s not the nursing that got to me, it’s never the nursing in itself, it was the constant moaning: one toddler on the mend, making demands for my exclusive attention; one sick hubby, feeling sorry for himself and sniffling miserably around the house.That and the ISOLATION. You have to remember I had been in the house ALL Easter week with a feverish child (she was given antibiotic that Friday but she was still weak on Easter Sunday) and I missed hubby’s birthday party on Easter Saturday and the Easter service. Both events had been much anticipated but eluded me at the last moment. I just couldn’t bring myself to drag a wretched toddler out of the house just because I needed to see friends and take part in the Easter celebrations.

So all that kept building up over two weeks. And it did get to me this Sunday past. So as the worthy daughter of a former nurse, I ordered hubby to see the out of hours doctor and stop moping about and then I had an emotional shut down. I just didn’t have anything else to give. I downloaded the second book in The Hunger Games trilogy and I finished it in a day and a half. That sort of focused my mind on something else. Today I came upon this other book, “Mother Letters”, that’s just been released. “Share the mess and the glory”, such an appropriate logo for parenthood. It promises encouragement and support, a silent companion for mothers everywhere. Check it out. I sure will, my only regret is that I haven’t found it on Sunday night. It might have filled my emotional tanks sooner…

Little Miss Contrary, sick toddlers and un-conditional love

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ImageOkay, so this Easter hasn’t been the easiest we’ve had. For the same reason the past Christmas or our visit to New York or many other occasions haven’t been the easiest. My toddler had yet another infection and after a nightmarish week was finally put on antibiotics on Friday and order has fragilely been restored by Sunday. I say fragilely because as soon as she was over the fever and the Paracetamol-induced snoozing clinginess and extreme mood swings kicked in.

One evening, after a fit over something ridiculous like “I didn’t want my shoes off!” that lasted 15 minutes and left us all completely drained, I rummaged the garage for “new” toys, in order to distract her attention and I came upon my stash of “for later” books. Books she got from friends and family at birthdays and special occasions but hadn’t been age appropriate at the time. Among them, three of the “Little Miss” collection, by Roger Hargreaves .

Because my Little Miss was in bed already I sat down with “Little Miss Contrary” and soon realised it was SO befitting for our situation. Little Miss Contrary says the opposite of what she thinks so that normally gives rise to a lot of misunderstanding and resentment. Or it would, in the grown-up world, where mums get as grumpy as a two-year old when facing negative statements in response to their well-meaning efforts.

Fortunately for Little Miss Contrary, Mr.Happy, who invited her to his birthday party, knows that she means no harm so he finds her negative comments funny, not hurtful. Oh, that sort of touched my heart, you see. Because I realised my girlie was being a Miss Contrary for a few days and she just needed a Mummy Happy who understood that she meant no harm. That negative statements didn’t mean she was rude or confrontational, they were the only way she knew to express how she felt.

I failed her a couple of times, even after that though. Toddler meltdowns are hard to “comprehend” and witness. I can only hope the other times when I showed her patience and respect will be the times she will choose to remember and reassure her of my un-conditional love. As I said to a friend this week regarding this situation: “I can only hope, right?”