Grateful thoughts on my 18th Mother’s Day

For years, I haven’t been able to properly celebrate Mother’s Day. Even after I’ve had so many children with my husband. Deep down, it will always seem incomplete because the reason for the first time I became a mother is never here with me on this supposedly very special day. 

I remember how I celebrated my very first Mother’s Day – so many, many, many years ago – confined to bed because of a pregnancy complication. Three weeks later, I was rushed to the hospital with excessive bleeding due to placenta previa. I was only in my 28th week. 

As I was lying there in the maternity ward (they didn’t think I would be delivering any time soon), the entire hospital cot soaked in red, I was more concerned for the life of the baby than anything else. That, and the fact that I had promised this bundle of joy to a sweet couple who had been waiting to have a child for ten years. 

By some miracle, the baby and I survived. A C-section was carried out – following only a nod of my head as consent before they pushed me into the OT – to save both our lives.

Not a day has gone by when I do not think of this baby, now almost a young adult, whom I had to give up because I was too young to provide all his needs. 
I am deeply grieved that I couldn’t nurse him to make up for the ten more weeks he was supposed to stay in my womb for his growth. They told me I shouldn’t form a bond with him. 

I am deeply grieved that I couldn’t hold him so he could be comforted by the familiar sound of my heartbeat, which he had been listening to for the past 28 weeks. But instead, he was left to cry alone in the strange and frightening incubator for a month, again, because of that bond they were afraid I would have with him before he was given to his adoptive parents. 

I am deeply grieved that I was not able to watch him take his first step, say his first word, and make his first friends. 
But I am thankful that I was able to bless that couple with the very thing that they had yearned to have for such a long time, to complete their family. When I first met them, I knew they would be able to give him the life that I couldn’t even give to myself. 

This Mother’s Day, I am especially grateful for the man with whom I’ve been blessed with eight beautiful children (and four who will always be in our memories even though they never made it). I couldn’t ask for a more loving and caring husband who is just as loving and caring to our children. This Mother’s Day is dedicate to him for his acceptance of my past, for being my pillar of strength every day, and for being my best friend and partner in this parenting business. Without him, I would never have found the joy of motherhood after all that had happened to me years before I met him. 

And to all my children, including P, it is a privilege, a blessing, and an honour to have you in my life. I thank God for choosing me for that role of being your mother.

*Originally posted on my Facebook page on 14 May 2017.

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Oh, please, sleep…

Oh, please, sleep...Every mother would know how frustrating it can be to get your children to go to bed. Of all my six kids, I was blessed to have… just ONE baby who could sleep on her own in her cot. That was my number Five. I had to carry, pat, rock, dance and do all sorts of somersaults for the others to sleep. I’m still doing it right now, if you’re doing the math. (Please remember that I have six kids because sometimes, I can’t do it for myself and I need reminders.)

My number Six happens to be an extremely light sleeper who also gets easily distracted while nursing. A tiny bit of sound would put an end to boob time. The sound of a motorbike zooming past my house (and I resent this to no end!) would wake her up from her peaceful slumber.

This afternoon, we were interrupted twice by my number Five while I was trying to get number Six to nap. I don’t think you’re interested in the details but an hour and a quarter later, both were asleep and THIS is finally my peaceful moment… for awhile, that is. I still have three… I mean, five?… no… how many kids do I have, again?