Gosh...I’m a mom now.
Who’d have thought it would come so soon?
I certainly didn't.
I was about to leave college, a day shy from graduation. I had recently married and was conjuring plans for a great career in my chosen field (which, for those not in the know, is Psychology). I had wanted to take up a Master's degree and work at the same time after I graduated; there were a million and one things that I wanted to do, but as fate would have it, something else came up. A baby was on the way...
A baby!
All my plans had to take a backseat--coz I thought, this is something bigger. And it really is! I remember thinking that in about forty weeks, I’d be giving birth, I’d be delivering something great and big into this world, and he/she will be completely dependent on me and my hubby. Was I ready for this humongous responsibility? I mean, sure, I had taken care of babies before...I babysat for my mom whenever she went out. I took care of my three younger brothers, my cousins' kids, aunts' and uncles' kids as well. But this is going to be different...I’d be taking care of my own baby.
Pregnancy was a breeze---no morning sickness, no peculiar food cravings or anything of the sort. Well, okay, I ate kimchi with everything for the first two weeks but that was about it. I was particularly irritated with my husband even when he wasn't doing anything to me. The plain sight of him, his voice, and his scent... anything about him annoyed me so! Poor Hamza couldn't even talk to me without me scowling at him. But he as totally patient with me waiting on me hand and foot (something that husbands oughta do when their wives re with child!) I guess he spoiled me a little too much because I got really big! My fingers and feet swelled up like air was blown into them and my face was as round as it could be, not to mention my tummy. It was my own doing too; I ate what I wanted regardless if it was healthy or not. And the result, a whopping 155lbs. from a petite 100lbs. Scary.Ü
I was due on November 15, two days before our first anniversary. I was totally psyched, completely ready to huff, puff, and push him out into the world. My tummy was really heavy by then and I was getting back aches. But the day came and went. So did our anniversary. The week went by--and I was slowly getting tired and anxious. Nakakinis maghintay! They say that when a lot of people anticipate your delivery, it takes longer for him/her to come out. I was in and out of the hospital for my almost daily check-ups, ultrasound and NST (non--stress test--> done to monitor the baby's heartbeat/activity and to detect te intensity and duration of the contractions, if any).
“Good news, you might be giving birth before the week ends!” said my doctor. Imagine my glee—I was finally going to see that little bundle overstaying in my tummy! But the weekend came and went without feeling any shot of pain. On the 29th, I was admitted for induction. My doctor said that if the baby stayed any longer, he might pass meconium (move his bowel) which might poison both of us. Nice. They say to be induced hastens the dilation for a faster delivery… and it feels like hell! But how come I wasn’t feeling anything? Just a dull pain in my pelvis, similar to cramps. Am I weird or what?! The whole thing lasted for six hours; the resident doctors in the labor room would increase-decrease the units/min every hour or so, depending on the baby’s movement and my contractions. Unfortunately, nothing happened in the six hours I was there.
November 30th, Bonifacio Day, was my deadline.=P at exactly eight in the morning, I had my second session of induction…another six hours to endure. Still nothing. Darn it! My doctor decided to do a C-section on me; any more oxytocin coming in might endanger the baby. Geez. Baby pa lang, party pooper na.
Weird as it may seem, I was actually anticipating and pretty excited experiencing the labor pains, the minutes I had to count before the next contraction, and the actual delivery. But I guess I wasn’t going to experience any of it in this pregnancy! The O.R. was readied as soon as the induction was stopped. My doctor talked to my husband and mom anxiously waiting outside. Unfortunately Hamza couldn’t come in—we had initially planned that he be in the delivery room with me for “moral support” and so that he can whisper the azan (call to prayer) to the baby’s ear to introduce Islam to the baby at the moment of birth.
The procedure was quick… as soon as the anesthesia was injected into my lower back I felt all prickly (like I was being pricked with a million needles all over my body) and really heavy. I was struggling to keep myself awake because I wanted to hear my baby’s cry but I was really drowsy by then. Just when I was about to fall into unconsciousness I heard him cry. Alhamdulillah! He’s finally here! Exactly as I saw a blur of my baby’s flesh and heard one of the doctors say, “Mommy here’s your baby,” I slipped into unconsciousness.
We named him Mohammad Raja, his first name ttaken from the Prophet Muhammad (saw) and Raja (Rajaa), an Arabic term that means hope or wish... He was our wish come true, and InshaAllah the hope of our Muslim bretheren (sounds ambitious, huh?).
I didn't see Mohammad Raja until December 4th. Crazy, huh? Aside from my wound, I had the unfortunate experience of heartbeat irregularitirs after the delivery. Then came post-natal eclampsia eith my blood pressue shooting up from my normal 110/70 to 170/90; they forbode me to get out of bed and gave me medicines to normalize my blood pressure which I didn't take (harhar). As soon as I was allowed to see my little baby I rushed to the Neonatal Unit. My first meeting with him was something I don't think I'd be able to fully describe. There're no words to explain how it feels to finally see, touch and cuddle your baby for the first time.Ü
Raja’s now eight months old, and oh, how he lights up our faces and hearts when he gives us his two-toothy smile! Time does fly when your having fun.Ü Being a mom isn’t a bed of roses all of the time. There’re times I had wanted to sleep a little longer, take time off to do my hobbies and stuff. Then there were times when he wasn’t feeling well… oh, how much I wanted to trade places with him so he wouldn’t have to feel so weak and helpless! Having a baby does take up most of your time and energy. He’s a real bundle of joy to me and Hamza, but he’s a whole lotta other kind of bundle at times! But with a wonderful marriage and a beautiful baby who looks just like me (not!), who says I’m complaining? After all that racket? I wouldn’t trade what I have for anything in this world!Ü
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