My darling

Dear Phoebe,

You're growing quickly right before our eyes and your personality has really come in. It is as others have prophesied - you are full of joy and may I add, cheek. It's incredible how much you understand, even when you were far littler, despite your limited spoken vocabulary. Papa finds it amusing that you seem to say "No" with an Australian accent though it just sounds like a cute baby way of talking to me. I had you in the carrier the other evening and you tugged hard on my ponytail. With a gentle and firm voice, I asked, "Phoebe, do you want to go into the playpen by yourself?" and a sweet little voice answered, "No". "Well, then don't pull on Mama's hair." You promptly let go and patted me on the shoulders instead.

I love your affection and could easily enjoy a day in bed cuddling up to you if you would allow it. Sometimes when I lie beside you at your nap time or when you're settling down for the night, you tuck your right arm under my head and pull me in. If I happen to shift my head away, you pull me right back, which warms my heart. At times you pat the pillow before I've joined you on the bed as a way of gesturing for me to lie down and draw close. You're the most adorable pillow sharer and you make a great bed warmer in the colder months.

Papa and I never intended to co-sleep with you but it ended up being easier than the hours spent in the middle of the night persuading you to return to your cot. I don't recall when it started exactly but as you became more alert and were able to sit up, what was once a seasonal occurrence of you waking every two or three hours became a nightly event that wore Papa and I out. At some point, I eventually succumbed to the tiredness and started bringing you into our room when Papa got up to get ready for work. You probably grew accustomed to that as it wasn't long before you refused to sleep in your cot at all. You would appear to be in deep slumber in our arms but would jump up and demand to be carried the second we put you down. This would go on long enough for us to declare you the winner. We tried letting you scream it out as advised by sleep training material and a friend who works as a childcare teacher, but you would turn hysterical within five minutes and throw up from being upset. I couldn't bear the screaming and Papa didn't know what to do to help the situation. We initially felt sheepish confessing to others that we had relented and let you sleep with us but now we tell others how much we enjoy having you there. We know this time won't last forever. Thankfully you haven't been kicking or taking up as much space as you did before.

We haven't quite curbed your habit of pulling hair yet but your teacher is making the effort to shadow you more and intervene when she sees you reaching out. Prior to her putting certain strategies in place, you would swiftly yank out a small clump of hair and present it to her. She had to keep you apart from your classmates once as you had scared a few of the other kids. You seem to get along well with them in spite of this though and have even gained a good friend named Ivy. Recently, if you've fought me when I've tried to place you in the car seat to leave for daycare, I've been able to convince you to cooperate by saying we're on the way to see Ivy at school. Ivy's mum is also pleased her daughter has made a friend. She's already invited you to Ivy's birthday party next January.

Although it's been a while since I've written an update, the hiatus has left me a little blank in terms of what to record here. It's a good thing there isn't a shortage of photographs and short videos of you on my mobile phone but I had better make a copy of them on our laptop and create a backup copy so I don't lose any of these precious memories. A recent favourite is a little video of you saying "Hooray!". You are seriously the cutest little cutie pie in my world. It will feel like a punch in the guts when you are too old for stories in my lap with you babbling along as I read your chosen book aloud but I will celebrate each milestone at the same time. I hope you never feel too embarrassed to let me drop you off at school and hug me goodbye. I hope we become the best of friends. It will be such a blessing if you never lose the joy of spending quality time with me. Something tells me quality time might be your love language, that and touch.

I'll end here for now but will post more about you soon.

Love, Mama

Motherhood

I did not have a clear picture of what being a mother would look like. All I remember is demanding a baby from God after the desire had set in and months and months of disappointment passed. There is no doubt that more could have been done but I only sought professional advice and implemented a series of intentional steps in the second year of trying. Nothing worked though. We eventually had Phoebe naturally and I am incredibly thankful it happened that way. All efforts put into getting pregnant were contrived and felt as if I were playing God. I grew bitter in that season. My emotions were not kept in check and I became consumed with turning the want into reality so that the questions and comments would stop, so that I could feel a new level of acceptance and be part of that other group - the inner circle of young mums.

 

Fast track to 2013 and it has finally taken place. The news came as such a surprise that I did not dare believe it. I held that pink and white pee stick and stared rather numbly at the two lines. The second one was so faded it could have been in my imagination. "Is this real? God, is this real?" I finally let a smile in and texted Fab. I quickly rang the fertility clinic to schedule a blood test. When I crossed that hurdle, I booked in for a scan with the specialist. It began to make sense. I was overly emotional. I was late. I felt queasy all week and had an upset stomach (to be fair, I did have food poisoning at the start). I was getting flabby around the middle. And then my lunch presented itself a second time on the weekend after I got a positive on the bloodwork. Monday could not have come sooner and then there it was. The black screen flickered and we saw our baby for the first time. I couldn't quite tell the feotus apart from some other shapes and shades but it didn't matter.  We heard the heartbeat and my obstetrician said all looked great. I am pretty sure I was holding my breath until then from the second the ultrasound machine clicked on. Nothing could have prepared me for the ride ahead though.

I am not one for amusement parks. I hate (read: ABSOLUTELY DETEST) rides. I suffer from motion sickness and the dropping sensation makes me panic and feel awful inside. I wish I wasn't like this and that I could call it fun. Well, pregnancy was like being on an endless ride (the kind even a thrill-seeking fanatic would get ill on). It felt like I had tumbled off a capsized ship in deep water and was floating by clinging desperately to a piece of debris while looking at the mass of water all around with no sight of land. It was that perpetual feeling of sea sickness, that relentless nausea and the uncontrollable throwing up. I felt giddy in my dreams if I was able to fall asleep. And then there was the pain of the heartburn and torn muscles and the acid reflux and all sorts of other horrible symptoms that hit like merciless waves. The only thing I could think of to be thankful for when my head hung over a bucket was that the little person bouncing along inside was safe and growing and that things weren't any worse. Although my body was not capable of providing much nourishment, God enabled me to carry our sweet daughter to full term and deliver her without complication. My belly looked like I had eaten a prize-winning watermelon so we anticipated a hefty baby but the midwife placed a tiny, curled up infant with large eyes in my arms. That wasn't important though. She was warm and pink and gooey. She was perfect. And she made us a family.

One of the first questions I have received as a mother is, "Are you breastfeeding?" It doesn't hurt as much to answer this as it used to when I had to confront what I felt made me a failure of a mother. I was not able to provide a basic need for my child. My mother-in-law stopped asking after a couple of weeks and my mum made a joke out of it. Both their efforts stung though neither was trying to be critical or unhelpful. I followed the advice of the many mid-wives and lactation consultants I saw. I followed the advice of friends who were young mothers, and I followed the information on the ample supply of material available as leaflets at the hospital, in my "new mum" bag and online. But. I. failed.

Trying to breastfeed exhausted me. I was barely sleeping and it made me shiver and throw up. The physical pain was just the icing on the bad-tasting cake. I knew it would be worth it and I wanted so badly to succeed. One midwife called us the A Team as she handed over my chart to her colleague taking the next shift. When she relayed that I had delivered Phoebe naturally without any intervention or drugs and was choosing to breastfeed, I felt like a winner. I felt like I had finally achieved something in life but it all came crashing down over the next few days. I got angry at God as I had prayed over this point even before getting married. When I reflect on those earlier days, I often wonder whether I did all I could have. There is a tendency towards guilt but then I look at Phoebe and try to find consolation in the fact that she is growing well.

Phoebe has experienced a number of falls, tumbles and bumps even in her little life as a result of me not being quick enough or being negligent, uncaring or unwise. She has also been at the mercy of my temper and selfishness. There are many areas I have not done well in but though I would like to turn back the time to do it all over again so I can be a better mum, I am humbled that God is accepting me with all my flaws and so are my husband and baby girl. It has not been the easiest of journeys but definitely the one that has stretched and taught me the most.

Today over lunch, I scrolled through my phone and watched videos of Phoebe that were taken last year. I miss her chubbier days and her pre-toddler quirks. Every age is a great age. Each stage brings new challenges but also new joys and a different sense of normal. There is no desire at this point to have another child and I honestly don't think I would cope if we had a second one but anything can happen. Phoebe is such a lovely and smart little person and though she gets jealous when I carry other babies, I'm sure she will make a wonderful older sister.

Pregnancy can be such an odd thing. You can be a fit person who eats healthily and yet have the worst experience. You can escape the typical symptoms with one baby and have everything plus the kitchen sink with another. It's not dependent on age and it's not dependent on lifestyle. It's not even dependent on the gender of the baby or how many you are cooking up in the oven. I suppose there may be ways of preparing ahead of time to lessen the impact from the onslaught of hormones but it's otherwise almost like a lottery draw. Although I am incredibly hesitant or even adamant to not run the risk of putting myself through the sickness again, the cliché saying is so true. It's worth it. Phoebe was and is and always will be worth it. I just hope she takes her time to grow up so Fab and I can savour every moment longer. In my head, I have zero maternal instincts but even if I can't compare with the super mums out there, maybe I really am the right one for my little darling because she certainly is the right one for me.

Being your mum

Dear Phoebe,

I lost my temper at you in the car the other morning. I handled you roughly because I was agitated and lacking love. You were not intentionally misbehaving but I disregarded your feelings and failed to show you gentleness and compassion. What made matters worse is it turns out you were unwell.

I had stopped the car at the nearest service station as I peered at you through the rear view mirror and discovered you had thrown up on yourself and were sitting very still looking a little shell shocked. I felt sorry for you and cleaned you up as best I could but after changing you and trying to place you back in the car seat, you started making a fuss and throwing yourself back, kicking off the chair and making it hard for me to hold you properly. I looked at the clock and realized we were starting to run late (me to work and you to daycare). As you had reflux when you were younger and still occasionally bring up milk, I brushed this off as one of those occasions even though something prompted me to wonder if I should turn the car around and let you stay home since Grandpa and Grandma were in town.

In my haste and impatience, I snapped at you to sit in the chair and briskly buckled you in. You obliged and kept quiet the rest of the way. That day, I got a call from the centre to pick you up in the late morning. You had thrown up a couple times more and they suspected you had caught the stomach flu that both your teachers had. The Director informed me both teachers had called in sick. I brought you home and let you nap on my chest as you had fallen asleep in the car. My heart was heavy from having set a terrible example and to top it off chiding you when you were ill and needing more attention and care.

This wasn't a first in terms of expressing my frustrations outwardly. I have reacted in a similar manner a number of times despite reminding myself to exercise greater self control and be more understanding. The trouble is I have a short fuse and get easily annoyed although my response is not justified. I could try to put it down to tiredness and you wearing me out but no matter how poorly you are acting, I know my emotional outbursts are uncalled for. I want to be a consistent role model who does not cause you to think behaving the way I have is normal and fair on the other person.

Someone reading this could tell me not to be so hard on myself but the truth is I'm not. I'm not just sitting here letting guilt take over and feeling down. I'm reflecting and making a conscious decision to love you better everyday because that's what I want to do. I'm so grateful that God has given you an amazing disposition. You have the loveliest personality and I adore the way you give affection. My heart is thankful for the patience you have shown in return and how easily you forgive and move on. You are teaching me, little one. I have made many mistakes since having you but instead of brooding over my shortcomings like I always have, I am starting to embrace the journey and the lessons within. You are shaping me into a better person.

I am glad to be put in situations where my patience is tested because I have never paid much attention to this area in my life. Over the years, different experiences have forced me to confront who I really am and it has not been fun but I need it. I need the opportunity to grow and though I still revert to my old ways of choosing what is convenient, it's not good enough anymore because I have a pair of eyes on me. A pair of keen eyes and a pair of attentive ears and a heart that is open and readily absorbing and learning.

I'll never be perfect but I can certainly give you a better version of myself to observe. You will see me fall but I will show you how to get back up and become stronger. I won't just excuse the ugly ball of anger that makes it out way too often. It has surprised me how much I am capable of swearing and it is rather scary to see that it has turned into an almost daily response to even the most trivial of irritations. I am going to work on this because it matters. You matter. I care about the person you are and the person you are growing into and the person you will become. You are marvelous, did you know that? You will always be the miracle baby who made me a Mama and I thank you for that.  

Love, Mama

By the way, I am so sorry (again) for banging your head into the bookshelf today when lifting you up from the change table...it was a total accident (honest!) [Insert sheepish grin]

i ♥ (Etsy favourites)

Things I would love to get Phoebe but they're way out of my budget

Bon Bon & Belchick by Sleepyking

Whale by BigStuffed

Woodland Creatures Mobile by CarrotFever

Brian the Bear by Sara Carr

An Overdue Update

Dear Phoebe,

You turned ONE on Sunday. How did that even happen because last I checked you were the tiny, fragile baby I could carry effortlessly in one arm for hours. Last night I packed away the clothes you have outgrown and was marvelling over how small your first pieces are. In fact, some of them were big on you in those first weeks. I kept saying to Papa, "Look Hon, look at this one, it's soooo little! She was soooo small!"

With your physical growth spurts have come developments in other areas, many of which amaze Papa and I. You are such a wonder and a divine blessing. I cannot commend you enough for your sweet disposition and loving nature. You are so good at giving me cuddles and kisses, and to me your embraces are the very bestest of the best. You are also great at sharing, which is super impressive. Most other toddlers offer toys occasionally but don't actually hand them over, whereas you gladly and intentionally give toys to us and others. I watched you do this at childcare just this morning. You also dote on the younger babies there by gently patting them on the head and passing them toys to play with. One of your teachers even commented you tried to comfort a crying classmate by patting her on the bum as this is what we and the teachers do.

I am so proud of the way you have transitioned into childcare. Your teachers remarked on your first day how no one would have been able to tell you were brand new at the centre as you happily waved goodbye and were cheery for the whole nine hours. Your teachers repeatedly sing your praises and it blesses my heart to know others are able to experience what a delight you are.

Alot has changed since I last wrote. You started crawling in December while we were home in Singapore for the holiday season. It was there that you also started pulling yourself to a standing position regularly and more easily. I think you even began saying, "Papa" there or perhaps it was just before. More recently, you have been getting ready to walk, standing up at times without support and bouncing on the spot. The furthest you have made it is five steps, which Papa and I say is phenomenal. We think everything you come up with is fantastic because you are just wonderful. Ok, maybe not everything because I'm still trying to get you to understand I am serious about you not touching the bin and sneakily pulling out garbage to eat if I turn away for a few seconds. I would like not to have to bar you from places in the home but help you learn that certain things are out of bounds. A friend's mum taught her and her siblings that way, which kept them safe and out of trouble.

Papa and I try to capture videos of your milestones as they happen but sometimes we miss out on those camera perfect moments. One video I love is of you helping me with the laundry. I was standing at the clothes rack to fold your laundry when you came over and pulled each piece down from underneath. Each time you were able to pull an item down, you promptly handed it to me. When you had difficulty reaching, you either tried hard to stand on the spot or use the rack or my leg for support. It was seriously one of the cutest things we have ever seen! Papa and I tell each other every single day that you're a darling and that you're incredibly adorable and beautiful. You must believe it for we are not the only ones saying this so you cannot claim it as bias on the part of your parents. You truly are a magnificent, brilliant sweetheart and I still want to kiss you a million or more times a day.

I'll try to be back really soon to post photos and include more on how you have grown but for now I need to scoot.

Love, Mama