Glitchtown

WEEK 1

Where do I start… Probably by saying how unbelievably difficult it was to get through week 1.

Post-surgery, they rolled me to the recovery ward where I stayed for the next few days and nights. Unfortunately, that same night, there was a COVID case in the hospital and they did a complete lockdown of the hospital where no one is allowed to be there except strictly patients only.

Hubs said his goodbyes right outside the operating theatre where he was told to leave immediately. I was still so drugged up to feel or think of anything. I desperately needed sleep. I woke up the next morning and that was when the nightmare started Astaghfirullah. Freya was in her cot right next to my bed, my anaesthetic wore off, I couldn’t get up without being in so much pain, my phone was in my backpack which was about 3 steps away from me, I still had my catheter on and Freya was cry screaming in the bassinet next to my bed.

I pressed the buzzer but it took them so long to even get to me and by that time, Freya was already exhausted from crying and I already had a few mental breakdowns from the extreme lack of mobility, feeling every bit of pain, extremely drowsy and worried to death that no one is attending to Freya. The hospital was so understaffed, and there were so many emergencies that day that they had to attend to them first before us and I don’t blame them. I forced myself to get out of bed and I knew it was a risky move because of how drowsy I felt but seriously, what choice do I have? Someone needed to get to Freya – my poor baby girl didn’t have a nice welcome to the world.

The midwife came after a long time to give me pain killers and spent about 3 minutes trying to get Freya to latch onto me before leaving again. Those pain killers made me even more drowsy and knocked me out and I can’t even open my eyes to carry Freya. They gave me a basket where I can put her in bed with me without having to stand. I later found out that I was given 10mg of morphine and that was enough to put me to sleep instantly. I got so frustrated from feeling drowsy from all the pain killers that I asked them to just give me paracetamol and nothing stronger coz I can’t afford to sleep all the time and not having anyone attend to Freya. It would have been great if I had my husband there to help me. By the second day, I asked them if I could get an early discharge but they couldn’t let me because there was blood in my urine and they needed to monitor it until it clears. The next day I asked again if I could go home because I honestly felt like I was literally going insane. They said no again because Freya was not feeding properly, my milk supply was low and they needed to make sure that we have a solid feeding plan before I can be discharged.

On the fourth day, I ended up begging them to just let me out because nobody was there to help me anyway so what difference does it make me being in the hospital or not? All they did was take my temperature, blood pressure and ask if I’ve fed Freya and that was it which I guess was necessary but seriously, I just wanted to be home. I have not seen my husband for 4 days and I really needed assistance. They focused on the clinical side of things so much that they forgot that I could become so crazy in the process that they might potentially have a bigger problem than Freya not feeding properly – like my mental and emotional health being at stake here. I remember crying so much and wishing this was all just a dream. I looked at Freya and just could not stop crying. She needs me and I can’t even do something as simple as feed her. Feeling useless and an absolute failure was an understatement.

All these COVID restrictions was driving me nuts, I can’t be roaming around and when I pressed the buzzer to ask for formula for Freya because my nipples were honestly so damaged from forcing them down her throat to try and squeeze every drop my breasts could produce on top of feeling every bit of sharp pain where the incision is and one of the midwives actually said “you should call us to ask how to improve breastfeeding, not silly things like ask for formula”. That was the last straw and I was like, you know what, I am walking out of this hospital whether I am officially discharged or not. You and your paperwork can go screw yourselves. I am generally not an aggressive person like that but even I knew something was seriously wrong with me if those words came out of my mouth.

Interpersonal skills is extremely important especially for health professionals. I understand that they are under so much pressure with being understaff and all but honestly, it’s not about what you say, it’s HOW you bloody say it. You need to look at the state your patients are in and think of the best way to deliver your message. I would have walked out and make the damn formula myself, restriction rules be damned but I couldn’t find the kitchen and I left Freya on the bed by herself coz I could barely carry myself and it’s probably safer for her in that basket. What an absolute fail.

That same day in the afternoon, they announced that the hospital lockdown was finally lifted and that we can now have visitors. I called my husband immediately and I have never been more relieved in my life that I cried even more. It took him 20 minutes to get to us but I swear it felt like years.

Those 4 days in the hospital was probably more traumatising than labour itself. Then we finally got home and things got a bit more bearable because I now have my husband with me. Everyone has warned us that the first 6 weeks with newborns are the hardest with sleep deprivation but no one ever told us about how difficult it can be emotionally and mentally too. I felt so demotivated, useless, exhausted, guilty to the max and that affected me a lot more than anticipated. I watched my husband did EVERYTHING around the house and even down to helping me put my socks on coz my wound was still too raw and painful for me to be bending down. My milk supply was still very low when I tried pumping, I don’t even get much and had to supplement the feeds with formula. I got Freya to latch onto me once my nipples are all healed and I am back to square one. They were cracked and started bleeding again. I had to stop breastfeeding and just did exclusive pumping every 2.5 hours and top up her feeds with formula.

For someone who has always been active and doing things quickly, this was a massive change in lifestyle and I am still learning to make peace with my labour. To acknowledge and realise that my body has gone through such a big thing and I need to be kind to myself and go easy. To take things slow and rest as much as I can and recover. The quicker I heal, the quicker I can give my 100% to my family. This is something I have to keep reminding myself several times a day.

WEEK 2

It didn’t get easier. Breastfeeding was still the most stressful thing in the world. My breasts were so engorged and yet there was still not much milk supply. I got her to latch onto me for every feed for as long as I can until she starts pulling away frustrated from the lack of milk, then I gave her my expressed milk and then formula but I had to stop breastfeeding a few times coz my nipples were so cracked and raw on top of the incorrect latch and that just made the whole thing extra stressful and excruciating but I continued pumping and supplementing her feeds with formula. This was pretty much the routine for week 2. It was so exhausting because with newborns, you feed them every 2-3 hours. Breastfeeding takes time and that’s if they don’t fall asleep on your breast, pumping is also time consuming on top of washing and sterilising the bottles and then spending more time bottle feeding with formula all within that 2-3 hour window. I pretty much did not get any sleep at all because by the time I finished formula feeding and washing and sterilising all the parts, I had to start pumping again for the next feed. I don’t remember crying as much as I did in this second week ever in my life. There were times I wished this madness would just stop but how do you quit being a mom? You don’t. You keep going. I felt like a failure enough not being able to exclusively breastfeed my baby and I know I should not feel this way but it’s still something I feel and it’s so real and I couldn’t ignore it.

In saying that, Freya is such an amazing baby. She literally does not cry unless hungry or having wet nappy and she sleeps like a champ. She’s not a cranky or fussy baby at all MasyaAllah. It’s everything else that is very stressful. The sleep deprivation, trying to increase my milk supply by doing everything I could, finding time to rest so I can recover, finding time to eat and drink too. Typing this out makes everything feel real and also making me think if I am being weak. Why am I complaining? Why can’t I just push through the pain of breastfeeding and don’t stop each time my nipples crack, or why am I not doing more or give more to my family. Why am I crying each time I’m exhausted? Every mother had to go through it and you don’t hear anyone complaining. You don’t hear them having a mental breakdown. Sure you hear that newborn phase is hard but you also hear the cliche that motherhood is beautiful, breastfeeding is amazing and rewarding and why am I not feeling any of this? What is something they do that I don’t? I want to feel this beautiful, or amazing or rewarding too that people keep talking about being parents. What am I doing wrong here? The days felt so long and the nights were longer.

Each time I see Freya, I felt guilt – for not doing “more”. Whatever “more” is that I’m still trying to figure out everyday. For not being strong enough. How do I expect to raise a strong and brave girl if I don’t embody those qualities? Each time I see my husband, I also felt guilt and absolutely useless. He pretty much does everything since we got back from the hospital. Cook, clean, comfort me, assure me, support me every possible way and I can’t even get myself together. I didn’t even stop to think and ask if he was ok. My emotions were completely uncontrollable and I hated that. I need some control especially when it comes to me and I feel like I have lost that since labour. I’m dependent on my husband for almost everything and I can’t even get through one day without breaking down.

WEEK 3

The incision wound hurts less each day. Alhamdulillah. I feel like I could do slightly more now like put on my own socks at least. Breastfeeding struggles continues, Freya started latching properly and I felt so hopeful but my milk supply dipped for some reason. Breastfeeding still hurts so bad despite doing everything “right”. Her latch is great as checked by the midwife during one of Freya’s appointments but at least they are not excruciating. I had to prepare myself mentally before each feed to brace the pain. It’s not something I look forward to but it had to be done and every mother that has breastfed have said that it does get better, I just have to press on. This is exactly where I am right now. Pressing on, resumed pumping to increase milk supply and still feeding formula if she still looks hungry. I am feeling positive that I can make this work and that one day, in the very near future hopefully, I can get rid of formula completely or she can have it later in her life. I have nothing against formula, in fact, I am still using it to supplement Freya’s feed but if I could, I’d like her to be fully drinking breastmilk.

I am feeling much better than week 1 and 2 even though I still have my ups and downs but they are less erratic Alhamdulillah. I think it’s also because I am starting to get my mobility back and that everything is looking better slowly. It’s ok to be slow, it’s still progress I keep telling myself. One day at a time. Or shall I say, one feed at a time haha.

I always knew mothers are amazing but I didn’t know the depth of it until I became one. You literally gave up everything for your family. You are so consumed by the love you have for your child that you just forget about yourself. Your time and energy are spent on them that you don’t have anything left in you for yourself or even for your husband – at least that’s how I feel at the moment anyway. I know and I believe that things will get better. They have to and until then, I will continue to do what I need to do.

At the end of the day, I am a mother now. Mothers are invincible haha. I have to believe that and be that for Freya. The most precious gift ever given to us from God Himself.

To my beautiful Mama, the lady that carried me for 9 months, gave birth to me and raised me tirelessly. Thank you for everything. There is nothing in this world that I could give that could repay the sacrifices you have made for the family. I can only pray to Allah to please grant you and Papa the highest of paradise and may every tear that has ever fallen from your tired eyes becomes a river for you in Paradise because you and Papa truly do not deserve anything less.

رَّبِّ اغْفِرْلِي وَلِوَالِدَيَّ وَارْحَمْهُمَا كَمَا رَبَّيَانِي صَغِيراً

x, R