readiness is a state of mind

21 July 2012.

 
And I was and am, without a doubt, irrevocably... READY.

Alhamdulillah.

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At 100.

“It’s not supposed to be a race to reach a record, it’s supposed to be a journey”

After I ceremoniously broke down here, my husband asked me out for a lunch date. And lunch date was spent in silence. He did ask me why I was so quiet, and then, of course, drama air mata pun bermula. I pity my husband because my tear glands really have no mercy on him. I can cry in a lift full of people after sending Luqman off to the babysitter’s, I can cry while having lunch at a food court.

Point in hand is that I can cry even with people around, no issue.

And as always, people will always think it’s something that he did or said. I told him that I was hoping to be able to miraculously make that 6 bottles of milk by the time the day ended, but if I didn’t, I didn’t want to be the one to buy the milk from a shop. So, he had to do it.

To which of course, I cried again, looking at boxes and boxes of milk, as I have never been met with so many options. There was always just… me.

But well, when Luqman was 100 days old, I was only able to give him 3 bottles of milk as I usually made every day, even with extended pumping schedule. As much as I wished I had made more, there’s only so much a mother can give her child.

So, with a heavy heart, I supplemented.

Nak dijadikan cerita, we were given half day that day because we had an event that night. So, the moment I knew (which was very early in the morning), I called Luqman’s babysitter to tell her not to give the formula, as I was planning to give her the milk I pumped that morning for Luqman to drink and that I would later pick Luqman up earlier so that he didn’t have to drink the formula.

Nak dijadikan cerita lagi, I couldn’t get through her phone. Told my husband to call and he couldn’t get through either. We both kept trying to no avail.

So, the moment lunch hour came, I dashed off to her house along with cooler bag and all. Running out of the elevator and practically jumping through the front door. He had just drank bottle number 2, I saw. “Phew, still exclusive”, I thought.

But I was wrong.

Nak dijadikan kisah, she tested the formula on him before bottle number 2 so that she could decide whether or not to call me for me to send my milk to him. As expected, Luqman being the wonderful baby that he is, hesitated at first, but finished the bottle anyhow. And so, exclusive ended at 100.

And as expected, I cried a bucket.

But yesterday (at 101 days) Luqman’s babysitter told me a story about someone calling her in the morning. Her phone seemed to work fine yesterday, when just the day before, as I was frantically trying to stop her from giving my son formula, it was broken.

Now that, ladies and gents, is what we call tak ada rezeki. It was just not meant to be.

Yesterday, when I picked my son up and saw how full and happy he was, I knew that it was okay. You people are right. It doesn’t make him any less of a person, it doesn’t make me any less of a mother.

In fact, yesterday, for the first time in 101 days since Luqman was born, I felt relaxed. Maybe because I am fully redha with what has been charted for me.

Bottom line is that I have tried many, many things. From the things I do to the things I eat to the things I drink; power pumping every single night, frequent pumping, early morning pumping, tandem pumping, direct feeding, drinking longan, red dates, kurma, milk, soya, Horlicks, honey… you name it. Short of pills and supplements, I have done it all.

And right now, I’m drinking fenugreek and have yet to see the results. And like I said, it’s not that I have given up on breastfeeding and breastmilk totally. I’ve just got to be thankful that despite being given the bottle and part formula during the day, my little boy still wants me when I get back from work. And that's all that's available for him.

Maybe, it’s time for me to concentrate on nurturing him from other aspects as well, other than the milk he drinks. It’s been a while since I last Googled on anything other than breastmilk. I have forgotten that breastfeeding should be a journey rather than a race to achieve a certain record and I have become borderline obsessed with making more milk that I forgot how important it is for me to not leave him hungry if I wanted him to grow well and learn well.

This is a tough phase in my motherhood, and it didn’t turn out as well as I thought it would. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but it will pass. Now I’m just going to make sure my son grows up to be a good boy. And I'll do everything in my power to achieve that. Allah murahkanlah rezekinya. Amin.

//written at when Luqman was 102 days young. took me a while to post this. as sad and traumatised as I am, I am okay with it now. breastaurant open 24/7 at night. and breastmilk still in making during the day. it will be fine, insyaAllah.

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bila rindu.

"Senyuman manis dibawa angin, ku tunggu dikau terasa dingin."

Mama misses you, baby love! So much I feel sick to my stomach.

I feel like picking you up, go home and snuggle up with you in the comforter.

Haish. RINDU RINDU RINDU!

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the B issue.

"... Kerana sesungguhnya sesudah kesulitan itu ada kemudahan, sesungguhnya sesudah kesulitan itu ada kemudahan, Maka apabila kamu telah selesai (dari sesuatu urusan), kerjakanlah dengan sungguh-sungguh (urusan) yang lain, dan hanya kepada Tuhanmulah hendaknya kamu berharap..." 

 - Surah Insyirah

I am dazed and disoriented. It’s my second week back at work and though things have gotten considerably better, that doesn’t stop me from feeling a little… off.

I’ve been meaning to write so many things but as with most new parents, time is indeed a luxury. My daily shift begins at 5 a.m. and ends at 1.00 a.m. And from 1.00 a.m. to 5 a.m., my Little Boss asks for milky at least twice, so yeah, by the time it’s tomorrow morning, I’m pretty much a walking zombie. Sort of.

I actually have a “B(oob) issue which I’ve been meaning to get off my chest. For a long time now, I’ve been bugging Lynn and practically anyone who would listen to my issues and so far, I’ve gotten this far without breaking down.

As many of those who are breastfeeding know, the decision to breastfeed is a huge thing to commit to. HUGE. It’s not just a matter of “selak dan suap” as many think it is though I’ve got to admit that that is one of the perks of breastfeeding. But of course, with perks come some downsides as well.

xxx

From the moment I knew I was pregnant, I made the decision to breastfeed. There was no 2 ways about it. I bought myself a hospital grade breastpump, attended antenatal classes and read up on breastfeeding. My breastfeeding journey began on the right foot.

Breastfed within the first hour after birth – checked.
Rooming in – checked
Breastfed every 2 hours – checked
Tried out my pump – checked
No formula to be found anywhere as “back up” – checked

When Luqman turned one month young, I began stocking. I had no particular aim and no particular schedule, but man, I was pumping and pumping and pumping. Pam, sejukkan, kumpul, simpan. Sometimes I got a bottle a day to stock, some days I managed to get 2. Which I think is a huge achievement considering how often Luqman drinks. I didn’t care how much milk I got at one session so long as I had some stock for work.

And then, when I moved back to stay on my own, my pumping slowed down because I was on my own and Luqman slept lesser, but still, I tried my best to pump and pump and pump. So, I did get a bit more milk. So, yeah, I had some stock. And I felt good because I knew I was working hard for my little one.

I started sending Luqman to the babysitter’s house quite early because I wanted to make sure everyone became accustomed to each other. I didn’t want to bother having to look for another babysitter when I got back to work. Also I wanted to practice pumping as I would as if when I got back to work and that’s when my worries became more and more serious. I wasn’t making much if I followed the schedule I made for myself.

After some calculations, it was determined that my son drinks 6 bottles of 3 oz while away from me. Easy feat for some but a totally big deal for me. Because after all that practice, I am only able to produce 3 bottles daily with 5 pumping sessions.  And that includes a session of power pumping every single night.

But I persevered.

I have managed to breastfeed my son this far along and I am not about to give up.

But it’s hard not to panic. Especially when you see no more bags of stocked up milk in your freezer.

Untuk menjayakan penyusuan susu ibu, bukan ibu sahaja yang perlu mainkan peranan. I send Luqman off to this lady who adores him with a capital A. He’s not the only one she’s taking care of but he’s well taken care of I am sure.

But sesetengah pengasuh memang tak berapa pasti cara pengendalian susu ibu. Dan sebagai seorang ibu bekerja, saya hanya boleh bertawakkal.

Saya bekalkan Luqman 6 botol sehari sebab risau dia tak cukup makan. Tapi sebenarnya, rasa saya cukup sangat jumlah tu untuk tempoh tak sampai 12 jam dia berada di rumah pengasuh. Saya tak pasti bagaimana dia handle susu tersebut di rumahnya tapi saya selalu pesan kepada dia cara-caranya dan saya nomborkan botol mengikut turutan. Frozen first, fresh last. Supaya kalau tak habis saya boleh simpan last fresh bottle sebagai stock.

Tetapi setiap hari, I am met with some kind of pembaziran. Sometimes it’s 3 oz, sometimes 2 oz. But yesterday, it was 4.5 oz. I almost cried. Yang pastinya saya tak bekalkan 4.5 oz sebotol. So maknanya bottle ke 5 and 6 dicampurkan. Yang diminum hanya separuh.

I looked at the milk lovingly and wished I could keep it for the next day. But who am I kidding. Kita semua tahu susu yang dipanaskan, kalau fresh sekalipun tak boleh disimpan jadikan stock. What a waste. All that hard work and love I put into that one bottle of liquid gold.

Tapi. Apa boleh buat? Nak cakap banyak-banyak, dia dah tolong kita jagakan anak. Memang kita yang bayar dia, tapi bila bab anak, dah tak boleh fikir customer is always right. Melainkan dia dera tu lain ceritalah. Dek kenangkan dia sayang Luqman, saya redha dengan ketentuan Allah. Redha dengan lebih kurang 5 botol susu yang dah dibazirkan dalam masa 7 hari saya dah hantar Luqman ni. That could have fed my son with my milk for at least one more day. But what can I do.

Of course, I’m not giving up on breastfeeding just yet. Though I’ve got to admit that today, I panicked looking at the non-existent stock in my freezer. Not that there’s anything wrong with formula-fed babies (heck I was half formula fed during the day at the babysitter’s too), but once you begin exclusively breastfeeding, you’d know how heart breaking it is to just think about buying a box of milk off the isle.

I feel like a failure.

Especially considering the fact that my baby is such a wonderfully happy boy who despite his appetite is just wonderful. So far, Alhamdulillah, tak pernah lagi meragam tak tentu pasal atau sakit atau nangis berpanjangan. He just loves to play and loves attention. But which kid doesn’t? He deserves nothing but the best from me and I am determined to give him the best. I’m going to try to pump out as much love as I possibly could today, hoping that at the end of the day, I wouldn’t have to face the Isle of Milk to top up whatever it is that comes out of me today.

But if it does come to that, please know that I have tried my best. My very, very, very best. And as I am writing this, I am tearing up. Just thinking about the fact that I might fail you. At the mere age of 100 days. Though not without a fight.

I’m so sorry Luqman. Mama is really sorry.

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Easy peasy...

... That’s the impression I get from seeing most new moms. And here I am, struggling.

For the first 9 weeks after the baby was born, I was never on my own with my baby. During the confinement period plus a few more weeks, I was spoilt with good food, loads of rest during the day and my mom in the house to alternate taking care of the baby with.

After 9 weeks, I told my mom I wanted to give mommyhood a try. On my own. Much to her disappointment, I didn’t fall prey to her persuasion to extend my stay. So, we started staying on our own, in Putrajaya.

Babies, being creatures of routine, and my boy not being an exception, didn’t take being away from a familiar place very well. Most definitely, he didn’t appreciate the shift from a house full of doting Atuk, Tok Ma, Che Su and Uncle Oden to just having Mama and Deddy around.

So, understandably, when my husband was off at work and it was just me and him, he did the only thing he knew best to reassure himself that things haven’t changed one bit – which is to nenen. I couldn’t stand it. He was demanding milk every single hour and I was going out of my mind.

Prior to that (when we were at my mom’s) he was already drinking every hour. I was on call 24/7 but I was okay because I only had him to worry about. But when alone with a crying baby who wanted to be carried and having done everything in my imagination to comfort him best as I could, to no avail, I also did what I knew best – which is to give in to his demands for milk.

The first day, it took a toll on me and my relationship with my baby. I just didn’t know what to feel.

I was losing patience and I was deathly afraid of what I might do if I lost my mind. Luckily though, for the first 2 weeks after we came home, my husband was working out of office, somewhere closer to home. So, when things got out of control, he was just a phonecall away.

Eventually, things got better. He still demanded milk on an hourly basis but having gotten used to it, I persevered.

Still, there were some days when I didn’t get to eat breakfast, much less lunch. Depended on all the biscuits and air kotak I could find in the house to keep myself full and hydrated. There were some days when after I had bathed him, I couldn’t put him down to play alone for even a tiny while, that I ended up draped in my towel all day long until my husband got home. Yes, it has gotten that bad before. And yes, in my towel because bless the child, he loves to pee on me during bath time.

I stopped taking photos of him everyday, not only because I was too tired, but mostly because there wasn’t really a moment when he would let me put him down, let alone reach out for my camera to take a photo of him.

And then of course, after I trained him to scream a while longer before I picked him up, he has learnt that I too, need my space. I bought him the Simple Dimple Zoo Playgym and after his early morning feed, I would normally place him on the mat for him to play with his toys.

That’s when I dash off to shower and eat my breakfast... before he demands his milk again. Yes, still on an hourly basis.

Mommy friends of mine tell me that maybe he doesn’t really want milk every hour, maybe it’s something else that he needs. But trust me, I’ve experimented with so many other “something elses”, that I know my baby is just growing and hungry. All the time. For a halus little boy like him, he sure does drink alot alright.

The only 2 things which have been able to distract his “addiction” for nenen so far is... taking a drive and having a bath. 2 things which he loves, even if he has to sit in his car seat without being cuddled and alone for 40 minutes.

Sleep like a baby? Oh no, not my boy. He wakes up like an adult and sleeps like one. He’s normally up most hours of the day with a total of 2-hour nap tops until his bedtime at about 2230. He still wakes up 2 hours once during the night for milk, though. Other than that, he loves to play BUT needs company all the time. He feeds like a champion and for now, his Mama is his bestest friend. He loves to gurgle and smiles when I smile at him, he loves to plays with bubbles in his mouth and loves it when we sembang with him. I've learnt to let everything else like housework, etc. go because I know that these moments with my boy cannot be replaced. 

This is basically how I’m coping with early motherhood, thanks for asking.

So, with all that I’ve said above and the handful that I have to deal with, how is it that I’m able to write this today?

Today is Luqman’s “training day” so he’s away at the babysitter’s.

I don’t think there has been a longer day than today. 

I keep thinking of that sleepy little face dozing off in the car seat just now. And how yummy he smells.

Please 5 p.m., come quick. I’m going out of my mind.

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who's to blame.

Essentially, when children misbehave, we, as parents, are to blame. Really, we really are. I read this in some book and I've got to say that I agree. The only time we actually pay attention to our children is when they - cry, throw tantrums, break something, mess things up or do things to that effect. It's then that we run to them to console them, scold them, tell them off and in some extremely necessary situations, hit them, just enough to teach them.

Bottom line is, whether or not the attention we give is good or bad, we only give attention to our children when they are up to no good. When they are behaving, we hardly ever sit down with them to tell them what a good person they are or how smart they are or how grateful we are that they are behaving.

In other words, the signal that we send to our children is that "I will only pay attention to you when you do something bad." And this is ingrained in their minds from a very young age. So, is it any wonder when even my 8-week old knows that the only way to get his Mama's attention is by crying.

Of course some would argue that that's all he knows for now... but trust me, my boy's not the type to throw tantrums for no real reason. More often than not, it's one of 3 things - hunger, wet diaper or the weather is bothering him. I can, most of the time, leave him with his toys and he will self-entertain.

But of late, I noticed that he cannot last longer than a few minutes on his own before he starts crying for attention. And being his Mama, I know that most of the time, it's not because of one of the 3 reasons aforementioned that he cries. Most of the time, he just wants me to come over to him and have me hover over him and talk to him and agah him until he is happy.

This is because I stopped playing with him whenever he is in a good mood. When he is in a good mood, I snoop away and try to get things done. Previously, even when he was in a good mood, I would stay with him on the bed and play with him. And he would be content even if he was not carried all the time.

But not now. Not these past few days at least. If you come over during the day, you'd see a new mom carrying her son all over the house and the house is a wreck as everything is half done.

Who's to blame for this attention-seeking behaviour? Of course, I am. But really, do I have much of a choice?

I wish other things just fell into place automatically so that I can lounge all day on the bed with my baby while I watch him grow.

I'm sure it's going to be worse when I get back to work and I am absolutely dreading it.

Sigh.

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mommyhood.

So I thought I would be one of those who would never ever leave Blogger. Not this long anyways. And I managed to keep my word when I got married. I didn't allow the change in status to hamper me to blog about things I liked and the things which were happening around me. And though I blogged about not much else apart from my pregnancy when I got pregnant, I still found the time to blog. A blogger is who I was, am and will always be.

Or so I thought.

Motherhood has changed me. It has taken away the time which I used to have for myself, which I failed to appreciate when I wasn't with a child. Having a baby is like having to always be ready to shower with the door open when you're alone with him and being ready to run out of the shower naked, with only one leg shaved, the moment he cries for you. Being a mother means you have to sacrifice the things you love for a while, while he is still so helpless and is trying to find comfort in this world you have brought him into. Being a mother also causes a shift in paradigm and priorities.

And though it seems like motherhood demands so much out of a person, there is an indescribable instant gratification which I get out of it, which is equally difficult to fathom.

Is it in that smile while and after I am nursing him? It is in that expectant look every time I sing his bath time song. Is it the amusement in seeing how his little legs kick in his tub each time I sing his swimming song? Is it that toothless smile? Or is it in that funny moment when he cries hearing his own fart? Or is it the fact that he now knows that I am his Mama each time his eyes tail me while I move about the room to get things done.

Or is it all of the above?

I sometimes wish I had a camera watching over us to record moments in a day which cannot be rewinded; both good and bad.

It's the fact that babies grow oh-so-fast that makes him such a powerful magnet; so powerful that I can't quite pull myself away from him, even when I want to.

Though I love this blog and vow to come back to it, telling it of how Ariff Luqman came into this world so that I will always remember, for now, I'm just going to spend my days just planting sloppy kisses on this boy, while he's still too young to tell me off for embarrassing him.

Til then. I'll be enjoying motherhood now.

I will be back. I promise ;)

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tenth.

So the Doctor said, if I don’t deliver by the 10th, I’ll have to be admitted and he would have to induce my delivery. Because of the many experiences of others who have been induced before, I was hoping that my ObyGyn would change his mind. So I asked him if I could keep the baby in me until he was ready to come out. The only response I got was, “Berapa lama you nak simpan baby dalam perut? By the time 10th nanti dia dah 41 weeks dah. Kita induce okay?”

Well, not that I have a choice, do I? My baby is already full term and keeping him in me for too long would be detrimental to both him and me and it would require so many hospital visits because we would both need to be monitored. And just the thought of that made me cringe.

Turns out, we didn’t need to wait until today to see my baby, we didn’t even have to wait until the 4th of April, my EDD.

fresh from the womb!

On the 2nd of April 2012, I safely gave birth to a wonderfully healthy baby boy at 9.33 p.m. at Putrajaya Hospital. He weighed in at 2.75 kg, with a height of 50 cm.

As for now, we are adapting as best as we could, getting to know each other better and trying to embrace a life surrounded by baby wipes, diapers, panda eyes, (painful!) cracked nipples, (so much) laundry and more laundry.

It may sound a lil’ mundane, I know. But trust me, it’s that secret smile and serene face he shares with me after every single (2-hourly!) feed that makes everything worth it at the end of the day.

I wasn’t prepared for this much love and this one week has been nothing but overwhelming.

So, please excuse me. I’m going to go and stare at this beautiful perfect being Allah has blessed me with, now. Alhamdulillah.

Hi there uncles and aunties! My name is Ariff Luqman! And I love Mama's milk (and fingers!)!

(delivery stories will come up soon!)

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Happy, feet?

very happy feet indeed

Hello!

Still here, still? Haha. I bet you were hoping I’d post a photo of my boy’s tiny feet instead of my own huge ones. You must be tired of waiting. Well, trust me, berat mata memandang, berat lagi bahu memikul. Or in my case, it’s my pinggang, right? Or is it my feet? Oh, but of course I know you get what I mean.

My hospital bag has been stashed in the car boot since I was pregnant at 37 weeks. And that was mainly because my friend Nina gave birth at 37 weeks and it freaked me out. It just hit me then that “oh wow it really is possible for the first baby to come out that early” and I wanted to be prepared. Just in case.

But stashing things inside the car proves to be detrimental to my patience.

It’s gotten to a point where I just don’t know what to feel anymore.

So, on Saturday morning, I gave my husband a round of my drama and started crying for no reason.

Okay, not that I didn’t have any reason at all, but it just wasn’t good enough of a reason, is all. It began with me feeling extremely famished and the next thing I know, I was being all emotional about I just don’t know what. The next thing I know there were hot fat tears streaming down my face and all I wanted to do was to bury my head in my husband’s chest and... sob.

In retrospect, it was kind of funny. And not to mention... silly. But, oh well.

I had a good weekend though. Joined my family for some dinner at el Toro, Subang Avenue. Had some steak there, which was okay. But the mushroom soup was so yummy, it is most definitely worth a repeat! Pottered around my parents’ house. Inspected their fridge. Gobbled on those yummy cupcakes my neighbour gave us. Watched the boys play rugby at the padang. Gossed A LOT with Adik. Oh, and speaking of Adik, did you know that Adik is a genius?

Yes, this hula hooping girl who shares a birthday with Einstein (for real!) scored herself 9A+ and 1A for her SPM. I definitely had a “proud parent” moment last week!

And that is all my life has been about in a nutshell.

Here’s to many more days wearing shoes which only half-fit me.

(Though I really hope it won’t be any more longer than a week from now!)

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Eh eh?

“Still here?!!!”

That question was dubbed “The Most Favourite Question of the Day” yesterday. Yes, I’m still here, both on my blog and at the office. Anyways since that was such a favourite question, yesterday I felt it most appropriate to prepare my Senarai Tugas as at 19 March 2012, just in case. Emailed the list to everyone I’ve been assigned to work with or to take over my work in my absence, just to remind them ANYTIME NOW, bebeh. ANYTIME Haha. Or was that more of a reminder to myself? Errrmm...

And on the list, there’s this ONE thing that I really, really, really don’t feel like doing AT ALL. Tak baik, I know, but really. I’ve been hit by the M Bug; the Malas Bug. At least where that one thing is concerned anyways.

Other than that lone M Bug, I’m still pretty much... me.

Still waking up for work, still preparing breakfast, still getting things done at work (apart from that one thing, of course), going home, preparing dinner, goofing around, still sleeping late sometimes (or all the time, actually), still speaking my mind, still blog hopping and I’m pretty much doing things just as I would as per normal.

But in reality, this waiting game is crazy actually. Really crazy.

People keep joking that it would be okay if I go into labour in the office because there’s so many Abang Gagah who can come to my rescue. Thing is... I don’t even know what labour feels like. I mean of course I’ve heard about contractions, even read up enough on internet forums to give me a “WebMD”, but what they really are is still pretty much of a blur to me.

And instead of being scared, I find that to be hilariously funny because it’s just so ironic? Hahaha. Don’t ask me why, please. I try my best to capitalize on everything these days to increase my own amusement in life. Hard to keep the agitation and annoyance out of a pregnant lady counting days, honestly.

Today, the question above maintains its reputation as “favourite question of the day”. Sometimes (and simply because I can’t help it), I get so annoyed that I want to apply for early leave pronto. But I know people can’t help it. I mean, if I were looking at a serial “waddler” happily waddling her huge butt to work, I’d probably be thinking to myself that “she should be on leave now” too. So, yeah.

But I’m determined I’m okay. In fact, I don’t think I’ve felt this happy and energetic before. Beats me, but while it lasts, I’ll be embracing it with open arms.

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is it any wonder?

There are times when we are stuck in a ludicrous position, only to realise that there isn’t anyone to blame but ourselves.

The fact that we care too much (perhaps the most) is to blame.
The fact that we take our responsibilities seriously is to blame.
The fact that we just have to do everything to the best of our abilities is to blame.

In the end, we are to blame.

When in fact, if the rest of the world cared as much, took their responsibilities seriously and did their best in everything they did, none of us would be in a ludicrous position to begin with and none of us would be blamed.

Is it any wonder why the world is the way it is, when the norm is the minority?

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