Three months of motherhood

Well, well, well. Back in July, I thought I’d never make it here. I still remember the days when crying and meltdowns were my daily ritual, and the longest stretch of sleep I ever got during the night was a measly 2.5 hours. In those days, it was hard to believe that life could ever get better. To my amazement, it has. Last night, in fact, the little bub broke his record and slept for 8.5 hours straight. Oh, sleep, how I adore you.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s still hard. Time does not fly by for me like it apparently does for many mums. Even now, I spend my days wishing my baby boy would grow up faster. Because as much as I love him—and I’m going to be shot for saying this—I do not enjoy being a mother. At least not right now.

Perhaps it’s also because the Covid has prevented my family from visiting, but my days with the little one have been dreadfully lonely.

This societal expectation that women should enjoy mothering is absurd. Before the baby, my life was filled with intellectually stimulating activities: lawyering, writing, coding. The most thinking I do these days is working out his wake windows and next feeding time.

I miss adult interactions. I miss going out for fancy dates and dinners. I miss holidays and staycations. I miss freedom. And unfortunately, these are now luxuries I can no longer have in the coming months. Or years, even. It also didn't help that all our plans of easing into parenthood (enjoying those nice cinema dates and a last babymoon holiday) during my third trimester went straight to the bin along with lockdowns.

I am honestly impressed by all the mothers who actually find their life with babies rewarding and fulfilling. Maybe I’ll get there someday as my baby grows?

And what about dads? Why aren’t they the ones that people expect to stay home, caring for the baby all day long and attending parenting groups? For now, I'm just glad that I'm not alone in the way I feel.

Despite sounding like a negative Nancy, I am still eternally grateful that I have a healthy, happy baby, and his feeding and sleeping have finally, sort of, fallen into a routine (here's to hoping I don't jinx myself). At long last, I feel like a semi-functioning human again. A human with too little 'me time', but I'll take what I can get. Fingers crossed, this continues. Toes crossed, the four-month sleep regression doesn't hit our household.

And I must hastily conclude this post, as that little guy has just woken from his nap earlier than I’d like! Hmph.

Month of firsts

I can’t believe I actually hit my Camp NaNoWriMo goal in July. Granted I had to cheat and adjust my initial 20,000-word editing goal down to 15,000, but that was fully justified, methinks, given that my little one arrived 8 days earlier than his due date. So yay! My first Camp NaNo participation and win, and with that,

As of yesterday, I have also survived my first month as a first-time mum. I wouldn’t have thought it possible back in the first week, but somehow, things feel even tougher now than they were weeks ago.

I guess back then, I had a little hope that there would be an end to all the cluster feeding, and that I could start seeing some longer stretches of night sleep. Indeed, I enjoyed 3-4 hour overnight stretches for a few days, and now it’s gone down to 2-hourly wakings like clockwork, and the baby is a little eating machine whose appetite is off the charts. *yawn*

The small achievement I will celebrate, however, is that I’ve now made it through the first day of the hubby returning to work after his month of paternity leave. Phew.

Really can’t wait until I start to enjoy a little more time to myself during the days though. When can I stop being a milk cow 24/7?

A life-changing week

On 2 July 2020, I became a MILF mum (though I might one day earn my MILF status yet… when the stars align).

In other words, Happy First Week to my baby boy! And happy first projectile poop too.

As relieved and grateful as I am about having my healthy and adorable baby in my arms, I'm not going to pretend that life is now filled with pink hearts and cute Facebook photos just because I have a baby. The truth is I am overwhelmed by the stress and difficulties of handling a week-old newborn.

In the past seven days, I have put up with cluster feeding marathons for five of those days. We're talking nursing sessions from 5am to 1pm one day; 1pm to 7pm the next day; even the average session takes around two hours because he is constantly falling asleep during his feeds. All I have to go on is the self-reassurance that things will get better with time.

It doesn't help that with the Covid-19 border lockdowns in place, my parents have been unable to travel here to help out. So it's just me and the hubby: two clueless first-time parents, learning as we go.

All in all, this week has been a real struggle — physically and emotionally — and I cannot wait until I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I always knew parenthood was hard, but I had no idea just how hard it really is. And I am under no illusion that there will be even greater challenges (and hopefully rewards!) ahead.

This may be a negative-sounding post, but I write in the hope that some weeks or months down the track, I can look back on my memory of this first week and realise that things have indeed looked up.

Reviving this blogging business

At long last, I've got a blog again!

It's been fun playing with all the HTML, CSS and PHP stuff I have missed for so long, but more importantly, with all the new events this year: finishing a novel, trying my hand at Camp NaNoWriMo, welcoming my first baby 😱, even the coronavirus… Why not?

This time, I intend to keep it up. We'll see if I manage!