I never knew it would hit me because I have never been the emotional type, but it did, and it has been a heck of a roller coaster ride.
Slightly more than a year ago, I gave birth to Kayla, and for the first three months after, I struggled with this constant ball of fear in my chest. I had no appetite for meals, I cried everyday, I lost weight, and my milk supply dipped so fast that I couldn’t breastfeed even if I wanted to.
As a first-time mother, I was overwhelmed by this new lifestyle that no amount of preparation could truly prepare me for.
Initially, we didn’t plan for Kayla to happen, as my husband and I were only married for six months at that point. And to be very honest, I felt fear the moment I knew I was pregnant. I knew motherhood was not going to be a walk in the park because of the stories I have heard from fellow moms. I was terrified of what's ahead.
Unlike in school where there are lessons and ten year series to walk you through each subject, there is no ‘manual’ for motherhood. Everyone's experience is different and the only way to know what motherhood really is, is when you become a mother yourself.
Nonetheless, I prepared myself for motherhood in the possible ways I could: by making sure we had all the physical stuff ready. Things like the baby’s room, the milk bottles, and the medications. It was an assurance that at least, whatever we need will be available at our disposal when Kayla is born.
The first 28 days was a whirl, but at least I had a confinement nanny around. I was still recovering from the natural birth process and my stitches still hurt. I wasn’t very mobile. As I was breastfeeding, I couldn't get more than four hours of sleep each time. It was really tiring.
Deep down, it started to dawn on me how scary it was that I am now responsible for this little human being. However, I also wanted to give her the best I can, and I tried my best to learn as much as I could from my confinement nanny before she left. And when she left after the first month, I started to lose control.
I lived in constant fear and anxiety.
I'm a self-professed worrier. I think a lot and cannot help but imagine the worst scenarios that can happen. This made me feel anxious all the time.
As a first-time mother, you find yourself forming an idea of motherhood based on what you read on the internet and from other mommies. For me, what I read and hear became a set of expectations for myself. I started to follow these set of 'rules' religiously, and even if the most little of things go out of place, it'll mess me up.
For example, I would expect Kayla to take this number of naps a day, or to finish drinking this amount of milk, and I would get really worried when those 'quotas' are not hit. The pressure of living up to these expectations I placed on myself and the stress of feeling inadequate consumed me over time.
I didn’t know how to handle a child. I felt so lost and lonely. Motherhood was something so new to me and I was just so afraid that I wasn’t doing things right or wasn’t giving my best to my child. I wasn't even in the right state of mind. I was just this person following a schedule: always on stand-by to supply Kayla her next milk feed, change her diaper, burp her, and bathe her.
As a chirpy and outgoing person by nature, I knew something wasn’t right as I was crying every day. I lost all appetite for meals. Waking up every morning became a dreaded affair because I will be filled with anxiety the moment I opened my eyes, and that awful feeling would intensify through the day.
It was so mentally draining.
I struggled with the thoughts of how it was possible for me to have depression. I was ashamed. A part of me felt like I had no right to feel this way since I had been looking forward to being a mother for the past 10 months. How could I be depressed now?
Fortunately, I saw what I was becoming, and I knew that this was not the kind of lifestyle I wish to continue with. It was so painful and stifling to be on the edge of a breakdown every single day.
I wanted the old Meiting back and with that realisation, I decided to open up. I sought help from my mom, whom gave me the chance to have a few hours off per week. I spoke to my husband as well, and I implored him to bring me to a doctor if I were to continue to cry for another week, as I knew I would need professional help.
When I did open up, things started to look better.
In reality, when it comes to handling babies, things rarely goes according to plan.
My mother and husband played a big part in my recovery and it is their support that helped me come out of postnatal depression after two months. The subsequent six to eight months still saw me having moments of anxiety attacks, but it was manageable as I had learnt to talk about my depressive thoughts. And my family and friends became my wake up call.
My husband always tells me to let go and to just follow our daughter's cues. It is reminders like this that remind me of the pressure I had unwittingly placed on myself, and how I need to take it easy.
It’s now my second year as a mother. Looking back at myself as a mother back then, I’m grateful for whatever I had gone through.
I'm grateful for my child, Kayla. We did not plan for her to happen. But she is now, to me, the greatest gift from God. Kayla has completely changed my perspective as a person, and I have grown and learnt so much from being a mother.
This Mother’s Day, I'm also super thankful for my mom.
Without her, I will not be able to go back to work with a peace of mind. Without her, I don’t know how I would have been able to deal with my postnatal depression. Her unwavering love and support for Kayla and me have left a mark on me, and has shown me once again, what unconditional love is. And now that I've experienced it myself, I know how fortunate I am to be blessed with the role of a mother.
No mothers talk about it, but postnatal depression is very real. It is common and 80% of my mommy friends have experienced it, be it in a mild or very serious form. Because nobody really talks about it, you will feel like postnatal depression isn’t ‘normal’ or ‘right’. I know this because those were emotions that I grappled with.
It sucked the life and joy out of me. It affected my husband and made him feel distanced from his once loving wife. It is important to acknowledge that these feelings of fear, doubt, anxiety, and sadness are very real, for this will help you get better.
The start of motherhood will seem scary and lonely, but it will get better. There will be bad days but the storm will pass and you will be fine.
Cherish the good times and learn from the rough ones. You’ll make it through eventually. There's nothing more rewarding and fulfilling than being a Mother. You'll love it. Maybe not now, but you will. We are made for this.
This story is written by Millennials of Singapore, as told to us by Lian Meiting.
Also read: These 14 Heartwarming Stories Show That A Mother's Love Is Like No Other.
(All images used in header image taken from Lian Meiting)
In her second trimester, the gynae pointed out that there was a white dot on her baby’s heart. That meant that the baby, her third child, could be born with some kind of birth defect, or a genetic defect like Down syndrome. There were a few possibilities, but there was no way to confirm any of it until after the baby was born.
Like any mother, Apple had worried about such a possibility but nothing could truly prepare a mother for the amount of changes and anguish she would go through when she gave birth to a child with special needs.
Four months later, she gave birth to her baby girl, Li-Ann.
The scan did not lie: Li-Ann was born with Trisomy 21, a genetic disorder otherwise known as Down syndrome.
“We didn’t have time to worry about [Li-Ann having Down syndrome at first] because she had a more critical problem. She was born with an imperforate anus.”
It is a birth defect that rendered Li-Ann’s body incapable of eliminating faeces through her anus, and it was imminent for them to first address this.
It is painful to even think about undergoing complicated medical procedures or surgeries as an adult, and for Apple, the most heartbreaking part of it all was having to see this happen to her newborn baby.
“It was heartbreaking to see her poked so many times to have her blood taken at such a young age. I would tell [the doctors and nurses] to wait for me to walk far away before they begin the procedure. I cannot [bear to see or hear her cry.]”
After three surgeries in ten months and many trips to the hospital, Li-Ann was finally able to pass motion just like anyone else.
However, this was only the beginning of a long journey for Apple, as the reality of having a child with Down syndrome started to dawn on her.
At home, the setbacks came in waves and the stress resulted in inevitable conflicts between Apple and her husband.
“Back then, my husband’s concerns were: How are we going to help her (Li-Ann)? How are we going to teach her?”
People with Down syndrome experience <a href=" range of developmental difficulties which include delayed motor and cognitive skills. What this meant for Apple was a major shift in her perspectives on education and parenting. More than that, it was going to take conscientious effort from every family member to create a supportive environment for Li-Ann.
“The way to teach her would have to be very different. When you teach kids something, they may get the concepts after you explain five times but for Li-Ann, you may need to explain 20 times. Sometimes, 20 times may not work either because she processes things differently from others.”
Looking back, Apple credited Li-Ann’s learning to their decision to homeschool their children even before Li-Ann was born. Their rationale was clear: they wanted to establish a home environment that would encourage the children to be curious and passionate about their learning. Through the time and interaction with her siblings from homeschooling together, Li-Ann had the benefit of observing the normative behaviour of her siblings and she modelled her behaviour and speech from them according to the best of her abilities
“Kids learn best from imitation, and because I have my kids at home with me, Li-Ann can learn from them as well. So my older kids have been instrumental in Li-Ann’s growth and development.”
The first couple of months were “really, really tough”, but Apple’s mental preparation and early acceptance helped a lot. And it was only a matter of time the family learnt to adapt to the changes at home.
Much later in our conversation, she shared, “when the parents are in denial [of their child’s condition], it’s very difficult,” referring to other parents of special needs children she has met.
Take for instance Mary Heng, who also has a daughter with Down syndrome and who is one of Apple’s friends—they had bonded over their similarities as mothers of children with Down syndrome
Acceptance didn’t come as easy for Mary, who struggled with her daughter’s diagnosis and broke down the moment she heard the news over the phone.
“I thought I was mentally ready for the diagnosis but the instant I put the phone down, I started crying inconsolably.”
“There was a feeling of emptiness in my heart, like I’ve lost someone.”
Nonetheless, abortion was not something Mary considered, as it was her flesh and blood after all. She started reading up to understand how to care for a baby with Down syndrome. The more knowledge she gained however, the more it broke her heart, as many of the websites she read only made her realise how many health issues her daughter could suffer from.
She blamed herself.
“I knew that the condition is a random occurrence, but I couldn’t help feeling that the random occurrence was due to some defect in my reproductive system. Each time I held this baby in my arms, she was so precious yet I just felt sad for the fact that she has Down syndrome.”
Even after her baby was born, she continued to struggle with the fact that her daughter has Down syndrome. She would cry every time she thought about it. There were also moments where she could not help but question why it had to be her.
It took a week of crying before Mary started to brace herself to take on whatever that comes—Down syndrome or not, her daughter is still her daughter.
Regardless of what a child is born with, it is how the parents look at it. As an active member in the local community of parents with special needs children, Apple stressed, “Sometimes the situation may not be as bad as it seems, but because of the parents’ denial, the children will have missed opportunities that are important for their growth.”
This isn’t to say that all was smooth-sailing for Apple and her husband. As the family settled in to their new phase of life with Li-Ann, Apple admitted that they did not always have the answers. There will always be problems and they will always find themselves facing new struggles along the way, but it all boils down to perseverance and lifelong commitment to the family.
The husband and wife’s will to make things work would later prove to be a major motivation to push on, because just one year after Li-Ann came along, Apple was diagnosed with breast cancer.
After her first surgery to remove the breast lumps, Apple had a few serious discussions with her husband as to whether they should continue homeschooling the kids.
“Among other things, my husband was also concerned whether Li-Ann would drag the other two down [if we continued homeschooling]. I told him they will not as they will continue to learn at their own pace.”
Her husband had wanted her to focus on her health and recovery, but she firmly believes that as parents, their primary responsibility is their children's growth and learning.
The down-to-earth manner in which she recounted the story to me painted a picture of her as a modest woman, or one who has long accepted that her sacrifices are just a part of being a mother.
Regardless, her unwavering determination in caring for her children was distinct.
“I can’t always be there. But I strongly believe in building strong relationships among [my children] now, so they can help each other when they grow up.”
“I believe that we can give them whatever resources they need for their individual growth. The vision of home schooling is to find out the gifts of the children and to nurture them.”
However, just four months after her first surgery, she found a lump in her underarm. She had to go for another surgery and undergo various treatments - chemotherapy, radiotherapy and hormonal therapy, for the next one and a half years.
At that point, she was struggling to come to terms with her circumstances and pondered over the possibility of her never recovering.
“These are things that I have to struggle with, and it’s something that is not within my control. So I know that whatever years I have [left] is to be here for them. My kids.”
Thankfully, Apple found support in her family, friends, and the doctors and nurses who attended to her. With a strong support system and her strong will, she soon bounced back to her role as the primary caregiver of her kids.
As the family relationshipss got stronger, things became easier. Though for Apple, her responsibility as a mother remains an everyday challenge—any mother would attest to how exhausting it is to be a mother.
Knowing the journey she has gone through, I imagine it to be an extremely demanding one. Although, I have no idea how I will react if I knew my baby has Down syndrome. I cannot even envisage the kind of inner conflict I will struggle with, knowing that childbirth is supposed to be a celebratory event, yet I cannot be truly happy about it. And knowing the disadvantages my child will face for all his/her life, for s/he is born different.
Yet, even with all the feelings of turmoil and doubt that Apple would probably have had, I observed how all of her motivations seem to only revolve around her kids.
She answered matter of factly whenever I probed about her struggles, but spoke with a smile, and a tinge of excitement and pride in her voice whenever she talked about her children’s achievements.
As a third party who spent over two hours chatting with Apple at Northpoint City’s Kopitiam, I could sense her love for her family. As cliche as it is, she embodies what all mothers aim to be: imperfect, but brave, strong-willed, and self-sacrificing.
In fact, she frequently related to me her children’s abilities and their personality quirks. I learnt that Li-Ann’s favourite story is Little House on the Prairie, how John is into video production, and how Rebecca loves music and singing.
After I left, I couldn’t help but also reflect on how well-behaved Rebecca and Li-Ann was throughout my chat with Apple. They had sat at a separate table beside ours the entire time, keeping themselves busy and never complaining once. Somehow, I had the (ignorant) impression that a child with Down syndrome would have made noise at the one hour mark or so. Or that a place full of jarring distractions would be a place too chaotic for them.
Perhaps this is largely due to my lack of understanding that an individual with Down syndrome is just like any other person. When given the right resources and opportunities, which they need, they are equally capable of achieving whatever typical kids can achieve.
This, is what mothers like Apple and Mary hope for their children.
For them, they are also well aware of how their years ahead are limited, but there is still a long way for their daughters. Like all caregivers of children with special needs, their only hope as mothers is that they have done enough to prepare their children for life.
Also read: Two Abortions Later, I Decided To Become A Mother.
(Header Image Credit: Apple)
When I had trouble catching up on my studies, I hid it from my parents. When it came to matters of the heart and having my heart broken by the guys I dated, I turned to friends instead. When I was lost and confused about life after graduation, I turned to Google for advice. My parents didn’t deserve to be disappointed, and I never felt comfortable to share. Call it pride, call it fear but it was never a natural way of my life to talk about my feelings and emotions with my parents so openly. And now that I’m a working adult with my own social circles and partner, there are more distractions and lesser reasons for me to talk with my parents. Perhaps we were just that stereotypical Asian family who avoided complicated topics and shunned from anything related to sex. When I asked why I was growing hair at my nether regions, my mother would tell me that it is because I didn’t wash my vagina clean enough. When I had my first period and asked why we (girls) had periods, my dad said it’s just something that makes you an ‘official woman’. They never elaborated more than that and I never probed. Sometimes I wonder if this is why I’m so gullible today. However, the ‘Asian culture’ was stronger during my parents’ days and yet they still remain close to their siblings. Even though we all live separate lives, every family gathering filled our home with warmth and energy, there was always laughter and chatter. Perhaps this is the legendary kampong spirit that everyone talks about. What happened with my generation then? Perhaps it’s because life was much simpler then. In place of movies or video games, entertainment was playing marbles or fives stones with siblings or the neighbours’ kids. Social gatherings meant you had to interact with people instead of being on your phone. As much as it feels distant, the thought of losing my parents still scares me. Besides the pain of never seeing them again, I worry that losing them would also mean losing the only thing that holds my brother and I together. We were raised by the same parents and only two years apart, but we couldn’t be more different. We have led two very separate lives and we barely look alike – we were never close, not when we were young and not now. I knew a girl in my secondary school who had a brother I wished I had. He was a senior in our school and he’d always walk her home. Even when my friend stayed back for CCAs or simply to hang out with her friends, her brother would wait in school until she was done. I wanted that protective and cool brother who would not only be my guardian angel if someone shoots rubber bands at me but would also teach me how to fire these rubber bands back with twice the power. Instead, most of the interactions I had with my brother involved us fighting between ourselves. Now that we’re older, my brother makes an effort to communicate and connect with me despite working and living in another country most of the year, but it never feels right. We speak in different languages and our conversations lack depth but I still hope that eventually my brother and I will find a connection we never had. I just hope my brother believes it, too. After all, blood is always thicker than water. Also read, 12 S’poreans Reveal The Most Endearingly Embarrassing Habits Of Their Mums.My parents’ love for my sibling and I is undeniable, but so is the ever-growing gap between us.
Copyright © 2023 GRVTY Media Pte Ltd (Co. Reg. 201431998C). All Rights Reserved.