My Niya is 9 months! It is hard to believe how fast time went by but I am so very grateful I’ve been able to spend every day at home with her. I’m learning so much — about life, my potential and developing my talents as I do my best to be a good mom. Motherhood is the greatest university.
This week I’ve been battling a problem that I know I cannot solve on my own. Not an ailment or financial woes — just this longing to be nearer to those I love.
I tell myself, think logically. Be patient. Have faith. Continue reading “3 Nuggets of Wisdom to Help You Fight Your Battles”
When I decided to exclusively breastfeed Niya I had one goal in mind: I’d give her the best nutrition possible for the first six months of life. I knew it would take time, and sacrifice and I wondered if it would take a toll on my body — more specifically, my weight (I’ve always been thin). But I decided to go ahead and see how things would unfold. I can’t say it’s been an effortless experience. I’m happy though for the life lessons I’ve learnt along the way.
The days are falling into themselves. Life with Niya has a constancy, a flow and ebb. I am adjusting to its rhythm as I change diapers, coax grins, read books like The Foot Book, The Nose Book, Are You My Mother? and Ten Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed. Niya’s eyes are always bright with curiosity, a brightness I hope will never be dimmed. She is the joy of my mornings though I often feel relieved at nights like these when she is asleep.
Recently, she has become a bit more demanding. (But not the kind that gives headaches, thank God.)
On Friday, she got more shots, ended up with a fever. At first, she seemed fine and we even took a nap when we returned home. But she woke up screaming like I had never heard her scream. Gave her Cetamol (the liquid kind for children) and she eventually settled down but she has been more clingy since. Perhaps too because I was cuddling her so much during her fever. Perhaps because I succumbed to the urgency of her tugging hands and liquid eyes; my nipples became her pacifier.
Today after I put her on the bed for a nap, she started screaming. I went to the bathroom and watched her from afar, noticing how she was starting to quiet down but as soon as she saw me she started screaming again.
I am learning her tricks.
I love how I am the center of her world in a way that only a mother can be. Revel in the moments when we can sing together (yes, she sings — a drawn out kind of coo), take early morning walks. Sometimes I just stare at her face — her perfect mouth, nose and hairline shaped just like her Dad’s. I look in wonder and thank God for the miracle of this baby that is healthy, active and happy.
When I consider the future and its uncertainties, the over-thinking part of me gets desperate to make plans, to fill the unmapped spaces of doubt. But mostly, I feel buoyed up by my hopes and the evidences of God’s love, revealed in all the goodness He has brought into my life.
Best of all, I am looking forward to next month when I will see Niya’s Daddy again. I know a significant change is looming but we are used to change. We are used to this pliable life.
Sometimes, while Niya naps and the minutes drift by I find my mind reflecting on the past. I retrace my steps, wonder at the small things that do not matter, like the job I quit a while back, the books I should have written… At times like this when the world is quiet and all I hear is the whir of the fan and Niya breathing, I remind myself of the real me, how I am right where I’m supposed to be.
I am usually very happy so when the sadness hit me late last night I felt a bit overwhelmed. It was like staring into the darkness, where there was no beginning or end… I am writing this post to clear my head. I am praying for strength to bear the burdens only mothers know.
When’s the last time you did something really hard? The kind that makes you grit your teeth as your muscles strain to move mountains. Hard times are usually the most opportunity-rich moments — the ones that, if we let them, prove we are stronger than we first thought. Let me tell you about my friend.