Taking care of my baby right after giving birth sure was not easy. To start with, I found it difficult to rise from bed because of the contractions of the uterus (in case you’re wondering, the uterus contracts in order to return to its normal size). My lower torso was aching, my trips to the C.R. were torture, I didn’t have much of an appetite---I felt like every inch of my body was painful. And because I gave birth when school still was not over, I did not have my younger sisters to help me in taking care of my baby. It was just me.
Yes, it was scary, really scary. Sometimes I would cry when I did not know how to make her stop crying, or when I felt the pain every time I breastfed. I could not anymore look after myself because I had to keep watch over the baby. I had to wash her feeding bottles just in case she was hungry again. I had to hold her firmly but gently because tiny babies still have soft bones. Once, at night, I asked help from my mother because she wouldn’t stop crying; little did I know that she was just feeling cold. And I would instantly begin to worry when she slept for only a short period of time.
I juggled household chores with taking care of my baby. I could not have any decent sleep because she would wake up in the middle of the night. For the first few weeks, she slept during the day and was awake at the wee hours of the morning, only going back to sleep at around 5 or 6 o’clock. It was stressful; it was unbelievable. And when I would start counting the days, I’d realize that there’s still a long, long way to go.
Then came the responsibility of buying my baby’s necessities. The milk alone costs a fortune, and sometimes when she could not finish up her milk, I had to throw away the leftover after a few hours, and it would feel like pouring gold down the drain.
It was difficult at first, but then I learned to adjust. It’s ok to feel frustrated, or incompetent. Until now I feel that I could not measure up to the kind of care that my mother has given us. But that’s ok. At least I know that I’m doing my best. And when our baby grows up, I’d be really proud to tell her the difficulty that her mommy went through. And that it was done out of love.
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