I did it. I held on to the little critters till the very end and delivered them at full term (38 weeks) Like many child birth stories, mine too happened in the dead of the night and involved panic and a lot of last minute drama. Once the deed was done, I felt cheated. There were no feel good hormones coursing through my system and making me fall in love with my boys. For some mothers, the connection is instant and for others like myself, it takes time to develop. The days after my caesarean, I felt as if I had been hit by a truck and was afraid to look at my belly. I was never interested in a natural birth but now having been through a caesarean, my advice to like minded people would be to give natural birth a serious consideration.
The aftermath of a delivery is messy. You bleed. You leak. You are sleep deprived. Newborns don't take pity on you. They don't care that you have slept only an hour and are going mad with tiredness. All the time and effort you put in taking care of them goes unnoticed by them. They sleep for 18 hours or more. When they are awake, they cry. Unless you happen to look like Blake Lively and your spouse resembles Ryan Gosling, there is a pretty good chance that your newborn will look like a red, scrunched up monkey. But hang in there for your efforts will be rewarded soon. Unless you have twins or more. It is a long road to find your new normal, I've been told by fellow parents of multiples.
The boys are 10 months old. Crawling, standing, curious about everything, love anything sweet or salty and worship the ground their dad walks on. Now that they are in my life, they are my sun, my moon, my everything. But make no mistake about it. It is hard work. J and I have no time for anyone let alone each other. I can't remember the last time I watched a movie. It took me days of careful planning to finally get a facial when the boys were 8 months old. Outings are usually just a quick trip to the supermarket. There are days when I go mad. Days when I berate myself for being a foolish enough to wish for twins. Days when I dream of escaping my life. It has taken me a long time to accept that THIS is normal. There are women who effortlessly adapt to their new roles. That is normal. There are women who are overwhelmed by the constant demands and sea of responsibilities. That is normal too.
The aftermath of a delivery is messy. You bleed. You leak. You are sleep deprived. Newborns don't take pity on you. They don't care that you have slept only an hour and are going mad with tiredness. All the time and effort you put in taking care of them goes unnoticed by them. They sleep for 18 hours or more. When they are awake, they cry. Unless you happen to look like Blake Lively and your spouse resembles Ryan Gosling, there is a pretty good chance that your newborn will look like a red, scrunched up monkey. But hang in there for your efforts will be rewarded soon. Unless you have twins or more. It is a long road to find your new normal, I've been told by fellow parents of multiples.
The boys are 10 months old. Crawling, standing, curious about everything, love anything sweet or salty and worship the ground their dad walks on. Now that they are in my life, they are my sun, my moon, my everything. But make no mistake about it. It is hard work. J and I have no time for anyone let alone each other. I can't remember the last time I watched a movie. It took me days of careful planning to finally get a facial when the boys were 8 months old. Outings are usually just a quick trip to the supermarket. There are days when I go mad. Days when I berate myself for being a foolish enough to wish for twins. Days when I dream of escaping my life. It has taken me a long time to accept that THIS is normal. There are women who effortlessly adapt to their new roles. That is normal. There are women who are overwhelmed by the constant demands and sea of responsibilities. That is normal too.
