Tuesday, August 25, 2015

An unfamiliar feeling



Humblet is two weeks old as of today. As an ordinary person, I'd probably not think much of two weeks having gone by. Yet, as a mother, every week is a milestone for this very tiny peanut. 200grams gained in weight. An increase consumption of 10mls of milk and so on. All these teeny weeny, seemingly insignificant details are critical to her health and development.

Just last week, when she turned a week old, humblet had to be hospitalised for critical levels of jaundice. It was awful. We attempted to rent the equipment, but the doctor would not allow it as the situation was too serious. We were left treasuring every minute of breastfeeding time, because it was the only time the nurses allowed us to see her. Thankfully, she could be discharged within 48 hours. So we spent her first week in the hospital. 

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As I watched her sleep this morning, I was a little shocked when her little hand grabbed my finger. Each time she came near to me, it meant 'feed me!' But this morning was slightly different. She had had her feed and was all calm, near sleep but not really. Then her tiny hand reached out for mine and I let out a little gasp. 

For those who know me well, I'm terrible at showing affection. I'm great at large crowds settings where everyone is distant and cordial. Not too shabby with informal gatherings. But when it is one-on-one, I never know what to talk about or to ask the other person. I'd much rather write them a card if you know what I mean. Close friends are few and far between. How I show them affection? Possibly through my sarcasm and wit. Not so possible with a new born. 

Watching mothers with newborns leave me cringing. They coo and caw in a nonsense language and high pitch voices. Smother their tiny humans with kisses and what looks to be suffocating hugs. I have no desire to join their ranks.

But in all honesty, humblet has brought out something in me. And it's not motherly instinct and whatever mambo jumbo people assume it should be.

It's vulnerability.

I can't fake it till I make it with her. I can't create a checklist to meet her needs either. When she cries, it's not a problem to solve, it's a life to soothe. 

So in this process of weakness, I find my love for her growing. I may be a complete mess when it comes to motherhood, but watching humblet grow each day gives me much strength and comfort.
 

Grateful,
Amy

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