A Mother’s Day tribute to myself…


Posted on : 05-05-2011 | By : dutdot | In : All about my baby, baby care, Book-Making, Expat Blogging, Life's Musings, Parenting, Pregnancy

It’s Mother’s Day (Philippines and elsewhere that celebrates it every May) on May 8. Usually, in Kuwait, I celebrate Mother’s Day twice – every March of the year, and another every May (celebration of Mother’s Day in the Philippines). This is the first time I’ll gonna pay tribute to myself, being a mother, and soon-to-be a new mom again next month. (I know I am forever grateful to my Mama, and that calls for another post).

This tribute all started when I saw the green cap I wore at the hospital during my delivery of my first baby. I saw it just a few minutes ago while looking for my yellow card at the Farwaniya Hospital. I didn’t know that I was able to keep the green cap in an unlabeled and unsealed envelope.

Upon opening the envelope that contains the green cap, all of the memories during the delivery of my 1st baby came flooding through my consciousness. I found my hands trembling a bit, out of sheer excitement, perhaps, or the feeling of anxiety, happiness, tears, and joy all rolled into one – INDESCRIBABLE FEELING, I could say. Then, I found myself kissing the green cap as soon as I got it from the envelope.

I immediately put back the green cap on the envelope, as soon as I found myself reminiscing all that happened on that day of March 27, 2009, because my throat was already somehow painful from controlling myself to bursting into tears.

Everything came rushing through my memory — starting from the time I bled at home as early as 5a.m. in the morning, to the time I went to the hospital — where I was examined at the examination room, and that was darned painful when the doctor conducted an Internal Examination, then to the time I was given a suppository up to the time I went to the bathroom to excrete the feces; then I was brought into the labor room and the dilation was sooooo slow I had to beg the nurse to let me go home because I was attached in a monitor — but of course she didn’t grant my request. I also had to bear the time I was asking a nurse to help me go to the bathroom to pee, and she responded so late that my bladder was about to burst, and also the time that my dextrose was already excreting blood from me. Ahhh, all those painful memories…and the moments I called upon my three patrons by singing praise songs, and the power of my subconscious mind that I used while on labor…and then, after 3 hours of true labor, the moment came when I finally heard my nurse say, “10cm fully dilated!the baby is coming!” — the same words that I uttered over and over again during the labor period.

I held my breath when the nurse who delivered my baby didn’t answer when I asked her about the condition of my baby upon getting out from my vagina. I didn’t hear her cry. I got paranoid. The more that I got paranoid when she didn’t answer and she told me to keep quiet! Ugggh. That was tough, you know.The moment I got hold of my baby or had a glimpse of her for the first time was very emotional. She was so smallish that I was afraid to touch her for fear of hurting her. Then after three longish hours of waiting, we were finally reunited. God, I didn’t know what to do with my new baby then. I was afraid of hurting her, really, so I didn’t bother to hug her or got her up from her bed no matter how much I wanted to. I was all alone in that hospital bed. My husband was at home. I was then a first time mom, a mom who didn’t know anything about breastfeeding, changing diapers, and so on. I was naked, too, only wearing that hospital lab gown which was open at the back. I had to get up, and call my husband, so I left my baby on her bed.  Without slippers on my feet, I struggled to walk down the corridor, not minding the coldness of the floor, and I was still heavily bleeding. In between tears, I called my husband, and he was crying as well on the other line. Tears of joy, tears of wanting to hug us both – me and our baby girl. The clock went ticking so slowly. I was starving. There was no food. I had to make a call again to my husband, this time, I put on the long napkins onto my feet. The nurse (at the delivery room) gave me extra three napkins. I used the two napkins in my feet, so there was only one napkin left for my perusal.

TOUGH times. TOUGH moments for a new mother like me then. My baby and I were all alone in that hospital bed that we were occupying. Some of the mothers who delivered there had things, had clothes/slippers. Perhaps they delivered earlier, and their spouses or visitors were able to visit them and gave them their things. My baby and I were just covered with the hospital stuffs because I delivered at past 6p.m., and my husband was already sent home because he was told I might give birth at 2a.m. Visitors were only allowed to visit until 7p.m., and he knew my delivery at past 8p.m. already.

Being a mother is both tough and sweet. Being a mother doesn’t begin the moment one conceives, and the moment one pops out her baby vaginally or from the tummy. Being a mother doesn’t start the moment the rooster crows up to the time the sun sets. Being a mother is an eternal role that one plays.

Sometimes a mother may falter from her role, just like me, but it’s just temporary. We can always get back to what we do best – mothering and genuinely loving our children from the bottom of our hearts. Even at sleep, we think of our children. We are awakened at the slight cries of our babies. There is this unique connection between mothers and children. We can feel when our children are feeling. We are hurting even more when they are hurting.

This tribute to myself as a mother is also a tribute to my own mother. The moment I became a mother, I learned to honor more my mother. I will forever be grateful for my mother who carried me in her womb for nine months, and who braced herself into letting me out in this world, and experience the life out there. For without my mother and father as well, I may not be in this world to feel and enjoy all the events unfolding motherhood.

To my mother, thank you, Mama, for bearing the pain and for bringing me into this world with the help of Papa.

To my 1st baby, and my 2nd baby on the way, thank you for making me your mommy.

To my husband, thank you, Daddy, for being there and for sharing the genes of our lovely bundles of joy.

I love you all.

To myself, thank you for the courage that I have learned to muster because of great love for my own family.

To God, Almighty, thank you for making me strong in all senses of being a woman, a wife, a mother, a daughter, sister, friend, and all other roles I play in life.

I am forever grateful to You, dear God. I love You.

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