The Joys of Parenthood

I call it parenthood rather than motherhood because (as tempting as it may be), it would be incredibly unfair to steal all the credit for the amazing role my husband has played in our new journey of being parents. As my family and friends are well aware of already, I absolutely love my sleep. But things change when you have a baby, your life is no longer your own; it is totally and utterly controlled by the littlest human who is capable of making the biggest amount of noise. I am lucky in the sense that my baby is not a crier. And I don’t just say that out of bias; she is genuinely a quiet baby with a good temperament. A friend of mine also recently had a baby and she detests the fact that I am able to leave my baby in the room whilst I clean up, without having to listen to her screaming her lungs out. She is quite happy to be on her own (I guess she gets it from me lol). So I can’t really complain about pajama-drama because baby is firstly very calm, and secondly my husband sleeps a lot lighter than I do and with the result, he does the early-morning feeds (5am – 7am) with no complaints, may I add. And that is the joy of bottle-feeding your baby – your partner can help out anytime, unlike breastfeeding where you end up doing most of the work and staying up all night. Not out of choice though; I wasn’t able to breastfeed because baby’s poor sucking reflex couldn’t help her get the milk out in the amounts that she desired. He is so organised and hands-on, before I know it she’s had a nappy-change, a bottle, a few loud winds, and then she is fast asleep.

Our biggest struggle was not a crying/screaming baby (thankfully), but it was the whole ordeal of winding. It is a complete nightmare. Reason being, she was in a strict 3-hourly feeding routine in hospital, where she would wake up on the dot for her following feed. But when she got home, she started sleeping for longer because she was getting older. And me trying to find my feet with her, I continued to feed her 3-hourly whether she was sleeping or not (the nurses told me never to let babies sleep for more than 4 hours without feeding whereby I would wake her to feed). But feeding babies whilst they are asleep is the worst thing you could do, which I only figured through trial and error. They won’t continue drinking if they have a wind, and they get very uncomfortable if you don’t help them bring it up. We would sit for up to an hour at a time and literally tried every winding technique possible including massages, but nothing worked to bring up the big ones. Then I tried feeding her on demand by letting her wake up for her feeds without keeping count of the hours that go by, and that was the best decision yet. She drinks more and she winds easily. And now that she is getting older it’s a whole lot easier to bring up those winds because she practically does it herself. People (and especially old people) often make suggestions that you use gripe water. I honestly feel that it didn’t work AT ALL. But each to his own, and I just nodded when the suggestions came pouring in. I did however use Telament Colic Drops, which I’m still unsure to whether it works or not, but I’m too damn scared NOT to use it just in case it does indeed do the trick.

Then it’s the issue of going out with your baby. It takes about half the day before you’re actually ready to head out the door, because you no longer have the luxury of only bathing yourself. There’s little one too. So before you think of bathing them, it’s feeding first then they may even feel like taking a short nap directly after that feed which is when you should jump into a quick shower. Then halfway through you’re dressing yourself, they wake up crying for another feed which takes another half-hour. And you can’t bath them directly after a feed because the milk should digest a bit. Then you realise you still have to pack your baby-bag with extra clothing, fresh formula, clean bottles, clean bibs, enough nappies, and in my case a flask I carry around with cooled boiled water that is the perfect temperature (not too hot, not too cold). If your pram is not already in your car (which I suggest you leave in the boot by the way) then it’s packing that as well. So basically it’s a bit of a mission because once you’re done all those things you’re exhausted. And in our case (murphy’s law) as soon as we’re ready to get into the car, baby wakes up for another feed. It can be a dream though, if you’re as prepared as I’ve learnt to be. Preparation is KEY when you have a baby – you’re always thinking 5 steps ahead (I think your brain makes up for the “pregnancy brains” phase after you’ve given birth lol). And of course, if you have a dear helpful husband as I do. I can shout from my bedroom the checklist of everything that we need and he will answer me with “yes” in the politest manner from wherever he is in the house. But the mission of going out shouldn’t stop you from doing so, because it’s refreshing to get out once in a while. Some mothers stay home for weeks in fear that their babies may get sick. On the contrary, I think their immune systems are way more resilient than you are led to believe – and keeping them indoors from getting fresh air may not do wonders for them as you may think. But that’s just my opinion. A few weeks ago we went to Canal Walk, which usually puts me off because I’m not 100% comfortable feeding baby in public, simply because the noise can be very distracting for her. As I made my way to the car to feed her, I bumped into a cleaner, who after I asked where an OPEN baby room was (they are sometimes locked for some stupid reason) directed me to a full-house baby room which had little cubicles that can be cordoned-off for nursing your baby. Which mom wouldn’t enjoy a luxury like this to enhance her shopping experience??

If someone were to tell me a few years ago that I’d be rejoicing at the sight of a useful baby-room in a mall or taking a walk down the baby aisle in Dischem making all kinds of excuses for items that I find exciting but will never use, I would have laughed. Oh wait, there’s a name for that. It’s called parenting J