Can we try again?

Thirty-three

Samira

Nothing could prepare me for the life ahead of me. Absolutely nothing. The life of being a mother. The life of constant worry and panic over the little things that happens to your child. The life of sacrificing your all for your little one.

One thing I've learn throughout all of this period in my life is that, being a mother itself is a huge sacrifice on it's own. Carrying a baby inside of you for 9 whole months is one of the greatest deed ever, one that is overlooked my many. Everything you do as a pregnant woman is for your baby. Any food you consume, the nutrients are sucked up and passed on to your baby and you're left with the waste products. Your baby is like a parasite sucking the life out of you from the inside, leaving you feeling weak and drained most of time.

And it doesn't end there. The constant sacrifice carries on. Even after birth, there's this natural instinct to protect. To defend your little one. Giving up all the things you love doing, just to make sure they get the best.

I used to be the one who loved sleep. I would barely move an inch when I'm asleep, despite any racket around me. Someone could be banging a gong next to me, but I'll carrying on snoozing.

Once I'm gone, I'm gone.

But not anymore.

Now, just with a faint cry or even a stir from Jameel, I'm instinctively up and alert, ready to cuddle, hold him, feed him.

It is exhausting, no doubt.

There are times when I'm burned out, too tired to wake up and feed him, my mum would have to intervene.

"You know at his age you have to wake up to feed him regularly." She'd say to me.

"I know, but I'm tired mum. I need to sleep." would come my teary reply. Then I'd pull out my boob anyway and shove it in his mouth, with assistance from my mum.

Who knew breastfeeding was hard? It seemed so simple to me, before now. Pull your breast out and simply put it in your baby's mouth. But the pain and discomfort that comes with it. The feeling that your breasts are about to explode if you don't feed.

But in the end, it's all worth it. All of the sleepless nights, the tiredness and exhaustion. It is worth every second of it.

I know that because every time I look at Jameel, I just think to myself, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you.
Just the mere sight of him, sends a surge of warmth all over my body. It makes my heart melt with love and affection. Love and affection I'd never felt before. It was a good feeling.

When I think about the past, of me wanting to get rid of him ages ago, I feel terrible. I feel like smacking myself for being so ignorant and stupid.

It was all worth it.

Two months had passed since I first brought Jameel home. The best two months of my life. In which I have learnt so much about myself. About how resilient I can be.

You never know what you're capable of doing until you're put to the test.

It's been two whole months since I became a mother. There are times when I find it hard to see or accept myself as a one.

How? Me? A mum? No. I used to be the child. Where did the years go?

I can vividly remember memories of my childhood. Playing outside with other children with nothing more than my panties. Running out with excitement to my mum and dad when they'd return from a travel or come back from work.
The tables have turned now. I'm the adult. I'm the mother. I'm the one who's going to be looked up to. The thought of that gives me jitters of excitement and anxiety.