Going Back 2 Years in Time
- My angel of the morning
It’s been four days since I left my baby behind at home, to deliver the new one at Mount Alvernia. To be honest, this entire experience over the last four days has been more like travelling two years back in time.
Some distance from these last four days, and some further reflection will probably define more clearly where that first moment of bonding with Emma actually happened, but for now, let’s just say that from last Saturday when I checked in to Mount Alvernia at 5am, to the anticipation of the surgery itself, to taking that epidural shot, getting cut open, delivering the baby, and all the subsequent cuddling and breastfeeding and sleeplessness and baby bonding, it has been one long and pleasurable walk down memory lane (not including the intense pain that accompanied the first two days!).
I remember how it felt when Matthew was first delivered from me – and how I didn’t feel anything remotely maternal at all – although I definitely felt it this time with Emma. I remember the anesthetist who scared me during that first delivery when he told me that epidural doesn’t guarantee no pain (it was painful with Matthew, but painfree with Emma). I remember Augz being the only one dressed in the green garb who was still the only comforting presence in the OT.
Later on back in the ward, I would remember when Matthew first opened his eyes and looked at me – that moment that I have described many times in this blog, and I would remember how I fell in love with him right there and then. I remember the one night they brought him to me for feeding, and how he looked at the balloon floating behind my bed – I swear, his eyes turned towards the balloon, though it seems they don’t really have clear sight being a few days’ old.
I remember his spirit, his boisterous cries that I would recognise the minute he was wheeled into my ward, his gaze as I nursed him, and how I sang “Part of Your World” to him as I nursed him in the wee hours of one night, and how I knew in my heart then, that this tiny person has got all of me.
Even writing this now brings tears to my eyes, and that now familiar bittersweet ache in my heart and lump in my throat that only ease up as I breathe. It’s not a bad feeling, just one that’s achingly sweet.
So yes, I miss my boy terribly, and it is especially hard whenever he comes over at nights. He would run into the ward calling “Mum-mae!” and flash me his big smile (though he was somewhat hesitant the first day) and he seems to just accept that I won’t be going home when he bids me goodnight and kisses me before he leaves. With a look that says he doesn’t get it but, okay, he will go with it. That’s our Matthew. He doesn’t complain and just trusts what we ask of him, even if he prefers something else. Breaks my heart not to go home with him.
Today, we had a marvellous time together – just Matthew and mummy, when Augz went downstairs to apply for Emma’s birth certificate. And of course, matthewsmomma didn’t pass up on the opportunity for photo-taking and memories-archiving!
He had spit up some guava juice on his shirt and so Augz went to wash it, leaving him with nothing to wear. It was really cold in the room – women tend to feel hot after childbirth, and there was someone else rooming with me – but our polar bear didn’t care at all! In fact, when I asked him if he felt cold, he responded with “noo” and then, “hot! hot!”
Here we are, cuddling in bed – and of course, the inevitable happened when he sort of jumped on me, and then pressed on my wound… sigh – but here, right here, is the happiest moment of today for me.
I will blog about Emma soon, after I’m settled back at home and have had time, and more brain juice to go over the last four days. 🙂 Till then, it is still all about our not-so-little prince, who has already given me a backache after I stupidly went to lift him onto the bed this morning.
Baby, mummy’s coming home. Wait for me, and we’ll resume reading your favourite books and singing your favourite songs as I tuck you in bed and kiss you goodnight in person.
For now, hugs and kisses from Mount Alvernia,