Mums don't cry

But this one did. Alot. So if you want to read something to put a spring in your step then I suggest you quit here, because I am having one of those days.
My crankiness starts to creep in as the evening approaches, when the sky turns a beautiful shade of grapefruit pink and the apartment cools down after four hours of penetrating sunrays beating down on our hardwood floors. At this time of the day, everyday, Isaac shows me what a mystery he is. He is the most angelic, beautiful, peaceful and charming little thing, with eyes that I want to swim about in and legs that I could bite off. But towards the end of the day, he cries so beautifully that I panic at how huge the responsibility is to be needed by something so small and so helpless. In all of my 29 years on this earth, nothing has prepared me for the magnitude of love that I feel for him. I'm drowning in it, in it's sheer immensity and unforgiving force. To the extent that I wish I didn't love him so much. My body doesn't feel designed for it, let alone prepared. I want to divide some of that love up, like a cake. For my mum, my dad, my sisters and brothers.For anyone who will willingly take him in their arms and have a taste of what this love is. Just so I can go out, take a deep breath, and get back to a more predictable, calm and solid place inside my head.A place inside my head where I know what love is and its a much easier love to understand. Just to take the weight of this force that drives me to tears. But I'm at home with him. Very much alone, yet trying to keep my chin up. Take it like a mum. At some point Im supposedly going to see the light of day when, by the miracle of the gods, im going to get used to it. Those magic words get used to it havent quite convinced me of their powers yet. Perhaps because, i dont want to get used to it. Or that I should have to get used to it. I dont want to get used to the loneliness part. Or to the part where I come down with the flu and I can't hold my baby because Im feeling so sick and I don't know who to ask for help or how, so Mr T ends up taking the afternoon off work just so I can sleep. Or the part where I feel guilty for not being a supermum. Or the part where I feel totally and utterly devestated by the notion that I can't get the help I need from family, or the part where I have to resign myself to a life where I cant follow my dreams because of that one fateful day when I played around with the idea of how nice it might be to have a baby and then before you know it, here I am, 2.30pm in the afternoon and wishing Isaac would wake up from his nap because I can't stand how silent the apartment is, and I can't stand not knowing what to do.
Tomorrow my mum and dad are coming from London to see their grandson for the first time. They'll only be staying for four days. Four days After not seeing them in over a year. I should quit complaining and try to enjoy the time that I'll have with them, right? This is what I'm supposed to get used to right?
Take it like a mum.

Tomorrow

Clean out the fridge.

Vitamin C from the pharmacy.

Listen to Bob Marley with Isaac.

Croissants for breakfast.

Wash the dishes.

Cuddle up on the sofa.

Call Mum.

Make it a good day.

Its official.

My son has a big bald head. Very buddha. Very right wing skinhead. Whichever way I look at it, its still disturbingly cute to me. As for the triple chin, the farts he makes like an old man who eats too many rich tea biscuits, and the rear end rumblings that reach 7.5 on the poop-richter scale, well, it just makes me smile.
And dry-heave all at the same glorious time.)

 

too tired to even think of a title for this post.

My baby adventures have included: going to the post office, the bank, and a couple of shops

Oh bugger.

Isaac is crying, after about the 100th round of feeding, burping and rocking.

You know what? Im just going to post this. Just to post for postings sake.

A hard week

I have been in a whirlwind of constant nappy changing, feeding and rocking to sleep that I don't know what planet I'm on, let alone what day it is. I have never watched so much daytime tv in my life. What's even more disturbing is that I have been watching Eastenders (a British soap incase some of you don't know) everyday, not realising that the same episode is repeated throughout the week. Let me reiterate what I've just said to you here- the SAME programme over and over again and NOT even realise it. That's sleep deprivation for you, messing with my brain. Even today, whilst I partially snapping out of this postpartum vegetation, I'm still watching repeats, not just of Eastenders but other programmes too! And what's more, i don't even mind it. Oh dear,maybe I shouldn't have confessed to that. Oh well, too late.
I should be trying to sleep, but I find the idea of sleeping during the day abit icky. Especially because it is 90 degrees in our apartment right now. Hot October weather driving me cuckoo. I want to go out with Isaac, I really really do, but the heat is not the inviting kind of sunny happiness. It is truly out of sync, in the same way that my hormones are. All I want to do, is take showers, one after the other. Nursing and all that it entails, has left me with the rather attractive scent of eau de spit-up which no amount of showering can take out. I have also been chained to the washing machine. Milk stained clothes, onesies, bedsheets, baby, mummy, soul. I am currently residing in a milk stained universe. As happy as I am to be able to exclusively breastfeed the little guy and see him thriving, it is still very hard work and I am still trying to master the art of whipping out the boob with abit more class and sophistication. Now though, I'm just 'boob-butting' my poor baby's head all the time whilst making sure I've got burp cloth, mobile phone, remote and water within hands reach.
As you can probably guess,there have been alot more to this mummy stint than I have been blessed in knowing, despite all that I have read and have been told about from other mothers. None of it has prepared me for just how hard it all is. Amidst all the conversations about how much it will change my life, how important it will be for me to sleep when the baby sleeps and to say goodbye to lie ins, none of it prepared me, for the heaviness that I would feel in my heart, because of the loneliness of it all. It doesn't help that I miss my family back in London, in Abu Dhabi and in Florida. They are everywhere but here where I could really do with their company and guidance. Back in the days when I was very much enjoying the independence and exhileration of moving out, living abroad, following my dreams despite the air of cultural animosity,I had no qualms about being so far from family and friends. In fact it actually improved my relationship with them. But now, I am the total antithesis of this independant woman. Being an independant mother is a whole different ball game, and one that i dont feel ready to play. Not in a foreign country. Not when I don't have a driving licence. Not when I can't speak the language very well. Not when I don't have my family for support. It's all abit too much responsibility for somebody who really didn't have a clue what responsibility was.
Sometimes, when I listen to a song on my ipod, or read back to pre baby blog entries, I get a little jolt of the energy and spirit of how I defined myself. It brings tears to my eyes, because as fast as it comes, it disappears back into the computer screen, into the lyrics, into the mirror, in lightening speed. The baby, and the marks that this has left me with physically and emotionally, have as of now, taken over in defining my thoughts, actions and feelings.
So that's where I am right now. Today, I got a phonecall from a friend, inviting me out to the park, in an attempt to get me out of the apartment with the baby. I am very grateful for the support that I have had from the friends I have here. I know that things will get better. Everytime I look at Isaac, I can't believe just how precious and beautiful he is, and that i am actually his mother. The love that I feel for him leaves me totally speechless. I hope that I can live up to taking care of this gift that I have been blessed with.

Life these days

Lots of this.
Not enough of that

and its all because of this.


Everythings abit of a blur at the moment, the life that I have recognised as being uniquely mine has come to a very loud halt. What I believe in, what I feel, what I think has absolutely no relevance to the needs of our baby. I am at his beck and call when it comes to feeding him, rocking him to sleep, changing his diapers and simply staring at him. I feel I have been brought back down to the realities of life with every step he makes to survive. He depends on me and I have never known how huge a responsibility this would be until now. The knowledge that no matter how much I feel Im not mother material, Ive still got to step up and be his mother anyway.Because that is who I am. His mother. I cant wait to feel more comfortable in this new role. I see mothers carrying their babies with so much confidence and independance, and i hope I can start feeling like this soon.
One day at a time.