That first month

Kate, 3 days old

I remember the days leading to my delivery rather clearly. I was on leave for my 39th week and I had thought that Kate may arrive earlier. It was not meant to be that way though, and I was quite bored really. The husband was busy at work so he couldn't take leave to accompany me (boo) but I was fortunate that I had the besties by my side. I met them for meals, for walks at the neighbourhood park and botanical garden, Ikea... it was a week of hanging out, of doing nothing but waiting (I've never been so bored waiting) and finding things to do to occupy my time (lots of housework!)

The delivery itself was quite a memorable ride but this entry is inspired by the bestie who is going through confinement now and truth is, while the delivery was an astonishing experience, it was that first month which really (semi) traumatized me. [Warning: stop reading if you prefer not to know the real truth]

I was lucky to have a natural birth so there were the stitches I had to deal with. Honestly, it wasn't as painful as I'd feared. It was largely uncomfortable and inconvenient because well, my vagina's never done such a feat before, and after months of not having my period, let's just say it was terribly unpleasant to have an avalanche of the mother of all periods that lasted for a solid 4 weeks and I continued to spot for another 4 weeks. I was also very ignorant then and was shocked that after I had pooped the baby out, I still had a tummy so big I still looked pregnant?! That was nasty as I didn't want to be fat! I was also under home-care and abided by some traditional rules where I couldn't be exposed to cool air/wind, so no aircon nor fan for me (shocking!). I also had to be dressed warmly with at least 3/4 pants with socks (!), and no cold showers. Add that to the confinement foods I was eating - ginger, sesame oils - which naturally made my body warm; I was truly hot and sticky and highly uncomfortable - always.

So while my body was under all that duress, my breasts also had to pick up a new skill of producing milk. There were the pains like engorgement, blocked ducts, sore nipples and fears whether I was producing any milk/ sufficient milk/ good-enough milk... Honestly breastfeeding has got to be one if the toughest, fulfilling, stressful yet enjoyable tasks I have ever done in my life!

Then there was the fatigue. Anyone who has gone through this experience will know what I mean - Fatigue with a capital F. I mean, I've worked late nights before, consecutive late hours; or I've partied like no tomorrow and gone to work the next day and trust me, coping with a hangover and having to act normal and use your brain is tough! But oh boy, how my body coped with being this tired I have no idea but somehow, I did it. The nights and days merged into one as Kate cried as and when she desired with no care nor concern of time or occasion. My body was on clockwork feeding, changing for her and burping and trying to put her to sleep and though it sounds onto much, it was so tough and so tiring!

I was very lucky to have the help of the Mom and the husband, but still, it was very difficult as when the hormones hit, there's nowhere to run. I was warned by my friends about post-natal depression and in hindsight, I definitely had a strain of it. I stayed sane through sheer need to have to be strong for Kate, and much love and support from the husband and the Mom.

To say that I was ill-prepared for when the hormones hit is an understatement. I never expected to be so weepy, so needy, so stressed! I must say that though all that I've written above is no joyride, the toughest bit was the psychological stress. I mean, nothing is worse than you telling yourself that "the baby is crying HELPPPPP" or "why doesn't the baby stop crying when I carry her?" or "what if... why... how?"

People say it gets better and it is true. You just deal with it. And get the hang of it. And I wish I was more prepared with more - for one, I would have sat down to talk to my Mom and sorted out our expectations. I think I upset her when she was wholeheartedly giving me what she thinks is best and I feel sad thinking about it. A lot of the stress I went through was stress I put on myself and hurting another person in the process is truly unnecessary.

But what's done is done and I know better now. I don't think it'll ever be this difficult again. Sure, it'd be as uncomfortable and all that, no doubt about it, but no matter how weepy I may be the next time round, it'll just be better.