October 25, 2012

nawaitu.



This morning, I woke up earlier than normal because I also slept earlier than normal last night. In fact, I kind of slept in my work clothes with my boy wedged underneath my armpit. Hihihi.

Woke up and did the necessary in their order of priority and then, a thought crossed my mind, “Ala, harini lambat sikit pun tak apa, boss tak ada.

And if you know me, you would know that my definition of late isn’t even 10 a.m. late, I just meant 8.28 a.m. kind of late. Which is still on time.

So, after I got everything I needed and did whatever that needed to be done, I lied down on the bed with my then already awake baby. Considering things, I thought (again), “Today I can spend more time with Luqman before work because (again) boss bukannya ada so I can come in a bit late.

At 7.30 a.m., I struggled to put si Bebot into the baby carrier. At 7.37 a.m., I was already in the car, heating the engine while I let si Bebot play at the steering wheel. By 7.40 a.m., we moved to the babysitter’s house. In all my attempts to take things slower than normal, I was still early.

Sent si Bebot to the babysitter’s house and as I was passing by Petronas (as I do every single freaking day), I thought, “Do I have time for minyak?And against my better judgment, I ignored Petronas and drove by ala-ala Keep Calm and Drive On gitu.

I then switched on my radio and the next thing I know is that… my car slowed down although clearly, my foot was still on the accelerator.  Ah, my worst nightmare. I checked out the sidewalks to see if there was anyone trusty-looking enough to help me, but it was just not my luck. Switched on my hazard lights and hoped that the car would move just a bit more until I reached a safer place. At one point, I was thinking, "... if I could just make a u-turn at the traffic light… maybe I could get some petrol now"

But I decided not to make myself look any more stupider than I’ve already done.

I managed to stop at a bus stop. Contemplated whether or not to call my husband but I wasn’t ready to get an earful from him before I resolved my problem. So then, I thought of who might be able to help me… and my colleague crossed my mind! Ah, just so happens that the guy who normally takes earlier leave to travel back to his hometown isn’t on leave today. Am I lucky or what?

Knowing how resourceful he is, I knew that I was in good hands.

Just minutes after I hung up with my colleague, my husband called.

At the end of the conversation, I swear I could “hear” his lips turn into a thin, thin frowning line. No lecture from him but honestly that was scarier than the “earful” I anticipated from him. I quickly said my goodbyes and sat at the driver’s seat while I tweeted my predicament. Surprisingly feeling calm...

My colleague finally came to my rescue with bottle and petrol and all and we did the necessary.

And so, after that, I drove back to the same Petronas that I pass by every single freaking day, (finally!) got my petrol and went back to the office. It was about 9.15 a.m.

If you’re wondering whether or not my car gave me any grace period before it decided to play dead, of course it did! The fuel icon has been blinking for a while now, but I have been working through my lunch hours and have been staying back late at work that by the time I get off from work, all I want to do is to pick my baby up and go home.

But in retrospect, I do admit that it is kind of idiotic, seeing that I pass by Petronas every single freaking day, TWICE! So, yeah, yeah, excuses mexcuses.

So, at the end of the day, no matter how early you wake up or how prepared you are for the day, nawaitu juga paling penting. I will never let the thought Tak apa lah boss takde boleh masuk lambat SIKIT" invade my mind again for as long as I can avoid. Because look at what happened today. Nak lambat sangat ambik kau! Sikit konon.

Balik kepada Lillah hi Ta’ala.

Ingat tu! Learned my lesson. Serves me right.



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October 22, 2012

Si Frumpy


Means… “wearing clothes that are not attractive or fashionable”

I’ve never really been a “fashionista” or one who religiously follows trends at the time when it’s a trend. In fact, I’ve never really cared much about what I wear as long as I was comfortable and decent-looking. It’s well known and acknowledged (even by myself) that I am through and through a tshirt-jeans kind of girl.

Until lately.

Lately has seen me feeling frumpy. Lately has seen me fret about my wardrobe in a way I never did before. Lately has seen me care about my appearance more than I’ve ever bothered to care about for as long as I can remember.

Good god am I having an affair or something? That’s what people generally think when their spouse cares a bit too much (than normal) about their appearances, right?

Well, whatever. I just happen to care more than I ever did before, is all.

And last week was just the ultimate. I just couldn’t stand what I saw in the mirror. So freaking frumpy, I tell you. And it’s not that I don’t make an effort to look nice, I just didn’t feel good-looking enough.

*sigh*

I don’t think this happens to all mothers, but for some reason I’ve been hit real hard by the “motherhood induced frumpiness” and I hate it.

What’s worst, these days I no longer have the privilege of shopping for myself due to time constraint.  And when I find really good online shops, I can never be sure I would look good in a particular piece that I like. I used to be so confident that a size 6 would be a perfect fit for me but now… I’m not even sure if I could do an 8 enough justice. And when I’m finally confident enough to get something … I’m left with a bank account with a balance which kind of makes me want to cry blood sometimes.

Surely motherhood is hard enough, now this?

Sooner than later, I’m going to have to have to give my wardrobe a complete overhaul. Then perhaps I’ll start taking more photos of myself again (which I love to do, if I might add).

After all, a frumpy mommy is an unhappy mommy.

And I most certainly want to be happy.    



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October 19, 2012

explode.

For some reason, I consider this week to be a rough week. Funny, considering how much time, effort and concentration I put into one piece of work ONLY, which at the end of the day, for some inexplicable reason, left me feeling so demotivated. Perhaps I’m just tired.

Sitting slouched at my workstation today, I know I should get my spirits up because hey, it is the weekend after all, isn’t it! There are so many things to look forward to but then again, is there really?

There are times when I’m so tempted to flee my responsibilities and drop my sensibilities so that I could feel how it feels like to be a silly rebel. If only I could do so without thinking of the adverse consequences of my actions, I probably would have executed my thoughts a long time ago.

I know it’s all in the mind, but what’s left of my sanity is a sliver. As if to prove a point, I’ve become so confused as to what it is I want; I want need to get out of this 5 am – 5 pm routine a little bit, but I’m feeling antisocial; I want to shop, but there’s nothing pressing on my list; I want to spend time with my baby yet, there are times when I feel that I need my own time and space, which at the end of the day makes me feel like a terrible mother.

Sometimes I can almost hear the song “have a little patience” singing in my head but really, I guess there’s only so much one can take.

At this moment, all negativity is literally shouting in my head.

 
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October 18, 2012

Do you ever wonder...

... whether your better half still loves you the same when you're so busy being mommy and daddy?

I do.

Conversations these days begin with: "How's Wuqman?"

In fact, there was one time when we were video calling, and I was excited as hell to see my husband on the other side and the first thing he asked me was, "Mana baby?"

We never hold each other's hands anymore when we're out on a date. Eh, wait. What date? 

But really. Even on days when it's just the both of us, touching each other in public is  now... weird

Ironic how I used to think that my parents were queers for not expressing some PDA at least. Now, I guess I'm queer too, though I really don't know why.

Sometimes, though weird as this may be... I feel like the love is lost. When really, what's really happened is that that love has now transformed. Even perhaps into something better. Way better than what I bargained for when I entered this union.

It's just that... there are times when all we need is a little reassurance

And I got what I needed.

very obviously quoted from Grey's, one of our favourites :)

I'm such a sucker for all the small things, aren't I? The fact he figured out what I needed on his own makes it all the more special.

:')

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October 12, 2012

BF 101: Breastpump(s)



DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURELY BASED ON MY PERSONAL EXPERIENCE.
   
I recently became a proud owner of the Maserati of all breast pumps; the Medela FS. I’ve got to say that that was one of the blessings that Ramadan brought along with it and I am forever grateful that Allah granted my prayers in almost what seemed like a split second!

On that fateful day, a colleague of mine was in the office for a meeting and she dropped by my room because she hadn’t seen me since I gave birth. At the time, she saw that I had 2 breastpumps under my desk; Medela Swing and Spectra 3.

After we exchanged breastfeeding stories, she told me she wanted to lend me her FS since her daughter no longer wanted to breastfeed and that she had only started using the FS for about 2 months or so.

Probably shocked at the proposal (and mighty pleased, if I might add), I obliged. At the time, I remember that I was googling on Medela FS and dreaming about it every single day. I wanted it so badly, I even proposed to my husband that he get it for me. And that coming from me is big considering the fact that I never really ask for anything at all. That just shows how much I really wanted the Medela FS.

But why did I need the Medela FS in the first place when I had 2 other breastpumps which are in wonderful working condition?

Well…

Medela Swing

To be honest, the Swing served me really well. In fact, it was the Swing that helped me collect approximately 135oz of milk during my maternity leave. But for someone who yielded so little, making a bottle of milk took too much of my time. If I was lucky, I was able to get about 4 oz from both B(oob)s per pumping session (which takes about 40 minutes or so). But on most days… I’d have to be content with 1 ½ - 2 oz per pumping session.

With a job that requires me to attend discussions and meetings and demands urgent attention most of the time, 3 breaks of 40 minutes to an hour during office hours was just too much. That meant I had to take 3 hours off my 8-10 hours at work and I hated cheating like that.

Spectra 3

So, I bought the Spectra 3 because of it’s double pumping feature. I was privileged enough to be given the chance to try the spare pump at Lunatots Putrajaya before I made my decision. And wow, I was impressed at how quiet it is as compared to the Swing. I placed my order in hopes that it will do a better job in less time.

However, having gotten used to the intermittent suction of the Swing… Spectra 3’s suction was just too much for me. It was as if my nipples were pulled and twisted with each suction. Every day, I’d imagine milk flowing into my bottles to ease the pain, but to no avail. It still took me 40 minutes or more to get the same amount of milk I got with the Swing. At times, I yielded even less than normal.

To make matters worse, I came home every day with blisters on my areola. I cringed every time my baby wanted to direct feed, which made me feel bad because direct feeding is actually my favourite part of breastfeeding.

After reading up on breast trauma, I decided that I had to let the Spectra 3 go. While others managed to fully breastfeed their babies until they were 2 with the help of Spectra 3, it just wasn’t for me.

So back to the Swing I went.

Medela FS

Of course that was until I tried the Medela FS my colleague lent me. Got to admit that it wasn’t exactly a match made in heaven from the very beginning. In fact, there were days when I got totally frustrated with it. Dahlah bunyi pun taknak kalah…

But… after using it for about 2 weeks and sticking to a more realistic pump plan, I started to see better results. Of course, when I say better results, it doesn’t mean I’m yielding so much that I now have a whole freezer full of frozen EBM, no. But to me, a little better is a lot better than nothing at all. Some days I make 10 oz, some days I make 12 oz. Now that he drinks 4 oz at one go, that’s 2-3 feedings a day for my boy.

And though that may be few to some, for me what’s important is that susu ibu tak putus during the day, even if I have to supplement with a little bit of formula. Some days, mostly Mondays, he doesn’t need any formula at all. And though some might deem me of being overboard for thinking that I’ve been successful in my breastfeeding, I can’t help but feel proud of myself for being able to breastfeed him this far. With each challenge, I refused to give up. And to me, that is the first step to success.

Of course, after using the FS for about a month, I couldn’t really live without it. After much persuasion, my colleague agreed to let me have it for a fraction of the retail price.

Alhamdulillah, lembut hati dia nak jual. Alhamdulillah I am still making milk every day. Alhamdulillah, I am not a quitter.

My advice to mommies out there is… it’s worth to invest in a good breastpump with a double pumping feature, especially if you are working. But whatever your pump may be, since your pump is not your baby, your body’s going to need some time to get used to it… so, USE IT way, way, way before going back to work okay?  

So glad I’ve found my (almost perfect) match. Alhamdulillah ;)




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October 11, 2012

post Day 1



“Being loved deeply by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

Hello, assalamulaikum.

How many days has it been already? 5, 6, 7, 10? I know people say that time flies when you’re having fun, but I guess people forgot that the same happens when you’re busy trying to be Supermommy too.

If there’s anything good about being forced into single parenthood, it is most probably the gift of efficiency that one gains. With a hardened resolve to survive for the sake of my baby, I have toughened my heart and cleared my head of all negativity. Also, I decided that it was high time I wiped my tears dry, come the 3rd day.

I thought I would take 30 days to get over things, but I guess I’m a lot tougher than I think.

Life hasn’t been a breeze but it hasn’t been bad either. With my newly acquired “gift”, I have learnt to be very economical with my movements. Each and every action is properly calculated, planned and executed according to their order of priority.

And of course, it’s no surprise that Luqman ranks first in that order.

He’s been a joy, that boy. Apart from being clingy (which is expected), he’s not difficult to take care of at all. Most mornings are hectic but once he got the idea that I’m not going to pick him up from the car seat when he cries, he doesn’t throw as much tantrum anymore. Most days after work, we would sit in front of the TV together, watching news, and later adjourn to guling-guling on the bed playing with each other’s cheeks.

After he hit the 6-month mark, I felt like time flew by so fast. Too fast, in fact.  He will never be 6 months again.

Each day is a different day for us. Each day something new is discovered. Like how I discovered his sudden love for the kitchen just yesterday. Terlompat-lompat each time I carry him to the fridge.  And because of that, I am willing to spend each and every waking hour I have with him, even if it means that I have to wake up as early as 3 a.m. the next morning to get things done.

If I didn’t understand what unconditional love meant before, I most definitely do now.






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October 01, 2012

Day 1: Get a Grip, Move On.

“Marriage is like the dark. We are scared of it, we face it anyway and eventually, we find solace in it.”

By Asar, both Luqman and I manage to nap; probably fatigued from our tears. I try not to, but I can’t help it; each time Luqman cries, I do too. Because I know he is searching for his Daddy. Sometimes, I catch him looking at our bedroom door, just waiting expectantly for his jolly ol’ Daddy to come bouncing through, being all funny. But, ah…

Come nightfall, the loneliness becomes overbearing. I switch on all the lights, all the fans, the TV, the ventilator and everything else imaginable.

Just so the silence does not become deafening.

I want to do a million household chores, but the moment I get out of Luqman’s sight, he cries his lungs out. Eventually, I give in to his cries. If there is this huge void in my heart, I cannot imagine how big of a loss this is to him. So, I carry him, cradle him and tell him it’s okay. In between my tears, I manage.

At one point after drinking his milk, he got tired, rolled onto his tummy and stared into space. He eventually fell asleep on his own.

I slip away from him, did what I could and finally, I too went to bed. We both went to bed berselimutkan the last kain pelikat my husband wore that day.

I know that crying won’t change things, it won’t stop him from going and it most definitely won’t stop the whole programme. Life must go on. So, I must get a grip, and move on too.

But for now, I’m going to give myself some time. Nobody said it was easy.

So let the tears begin.



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