Note: This was written with a beautiful baby boy sleeping in my arms. It was done in installments–after a burp, after a bath, etc., and was completed at 3am when my little bub decided to wake us both up just because he is the boss.
I heard superwoman stories about my Alapo’y Banayan when it comes to giving birth. On the onset of labor, she’d supposedly tell her older kids to go take naps. She then delivers unassisted, wakes the kids up, tells them they have a new sibling to help take care of, and goes about doing her chores like nothing monumental just happened. Much of that narrative may be exagerrated but after personally experiencing a long, arduous birthing journey, no way am I going to downplay my grandmother’s unbelievable feat of successfully delivering 10 children at a time when midwives, hospitals and epidurals were not necessarily part of the birthing process.
I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy just over a month ago. These days my hours are spliced into feeding, burping, nappy changing, non-sleeping, repeat–most times feeling like a zombie but marvelling at the strength and energy that does not seem to deplete just because the mere sight of this tiny creature that I call my son recharges what could otherwise have been a thoroughly spent body.
Even before beginning to talk about the highs and lows of labor and hours of strenuous pushing, I wanted to say something about my pregnancy woes that tend to debunk some notions about being pregnant. We often hear about the pregnancy glow, but whoever came up with the phrase must have taken some rainbow supplements as I on the other hand dealt with a barrage of swelling, headaches, bloating, constipation and the overall feeling of being downright fat and ugly. And these just become minor discomforts when you’re constantly navigating emotional turbulence.
The dramatic breaking of water that we see in movies does not always happen. So is the fairly poised new mom who after a few pushes and screaming gets a naked crying baby plopped on her. Birthing seems like a breeze. Although that’s undoubtedly downplayed and is not the expectation, the birthing process is way more complicated. No amount of research and classes could have prepared me for what actually happens in those delivery rooms. I would not dare go into details. Just that like the actual delivery which was messy, raw and intense, so were my emotions throughout that seemingly endless experience. Suffice to say I absolutely forgot the ‘inhale, exhale’ process but managed to unleash the monster inside me who was ready to breathe fire on anyone I fancied every time those horrendous contractions came.
We women are very lucky these days as we are spoiled with all sorts of medications to make the birthing journey with the least amount of pain possible. And despite being initially heroic thinking I could just do with the laughing gas, I ended up abusing the drugs. Those moments, I became an addict. All my resolutions were thrown out the window as all I could think with sobriety was “Give me mooooore!” Which makes me wonder how in the world did my grandmother deliver those babies, all ten of them, without even a single drop of morphine to dull the pain away. That woman is unbelievable!
Don’t even get me started on what happens after birth. Your body becomes delicately foreign to your own self after. No one really tells you about more swelling,the seemingly nonstop bleeding from your lady parts, cracked nipples, hemorrhoids, incontinence, immobility, more constipation. Plus, you still look very pregnant. On top of these, you have to deal with baby blues or worse, postpartum depression.
Postpartum depression is real. Though you are over the moon with the blessing you’ve been praying for a long time, sometimes you just don’t have control over the surge of loneliness or just an overall feeling of helplessness that comes over you. But you can’t complain. You’re just driven by this unconditional love for someone. Immeasurable love that nothing’s more important than his well-being. But I cannot emphasize enough that PPD is real and this should be recognized and talked about more often for awareness, enlightenment, and support when it is due.
Your body is different from that of another woman. I was so worried when my pospartum healing did not go as fast as I thought it would, especially when you see others making it look like their delivery was a walk down the park. I had feelings of guilt and inadequacy as I felt like I should be doing more for my little one but my aches and pains hindered me from doing so. I had to be reminded constantly not to be so hard on myself.
You’d think you’ll have plenty of time to do things and tick off a couple of tasks or goals that are overdue as a sleeping baby can afford you all the time you need. But very soon you’ll realize that getting the opportunity to take a five-minute shower is a luxury itself. On that note, I have to remind myself daily that sleep is more important than a clean house.
Giving birth is transformative. It changes you from a woman to a mother. It profoundly affects how you feel about your body–whether the experience was empowering or disabling. It either makes you feel like you can conquer the world or you feel downright inadequate.
Those are but a few of the personal realizations that I’ve discovered whilst cruising the calm and turbulence of a first time mom. Now I have found a more enlightened respect and awe for mothers. From being pregnant to giving birth to taking care of a new human being involves herculean efforts that women amazingly accomplish with little to no sleep at all.
Motherhood entails a lot of responsibility and utmost commitment but never should we be pressured by anything or anyone. What works for others may not be what’s best for you. Be reminded that you are doing great mama! You do you!
And although being a mom comes with a tremendous amount of work, it is truly a gift and a privilege. Everything about it should be embraced. Yes, flabs and stretch marks included.
I have a million things I need to learn for someone so new at this. Not everything has been pleasant as I realized when I crossed those bridges but if blessed with another opportunity to have another go through the whole shebang with the promise of another precious being, or two, oh yes I’ll do it again. In a heartbeat. Well maybe not the ten babies like Super Granny had, that’s pushing it.