| It's been a looonnnnngggg time, yeah? And I observe there are great changes happening in xanga. Good, good.
Anyway. The babies are growing healthily (alhamdulillah). They kind of remind me of that white thing...Micheline; I hope this is the correct spelling. Most obvious are their thighs. At least here I can pride myself that despite all the chaos, I've been raising them and feeding them just fine. Of course what mother would I be if I dont coo over my own children. I would lie if I state here my sons aren't adorable. But I've made this pledge; back when I wasn't even pregnant yet, I told my husband this; "When we have children of our own, if I ever coo or gush about my children to other people as if there aren't other people in this planet with smarter babies...please slap me. Hard." My children are adorable. But they too, are quite plentiful. In previous post, I mentioned something about my believe in names and their characters. My choice in my sons' names have proven myself right. Hamzah plays the big-brother role, and he throws temperamental fit when he is not satisfied over something. However, he is more independent. I can just leave him playing alone with his toys for a long time before he cries for attention. Whilst Yusuf, he cries when he is upset, however, he sobs instead of throwing tantrum like Hamzah. He likes to be hugged and carried around. Pinggang mama macam nak patah.
What chaos, you would ask. Let's start with the near-impossibility to get a maid during the time before I gave birth, until I was in confinement (this was the hardest time, ever. I was tired, practically didnt sleep AT ALL for weeks, and there were two babies to juggle), and as I was done with confinement, the husband started going to work every day (luckily only from 9 to 5) and so there was only me. Yes mother was around, and she had a maid. But mother had so many things to look after, too. And her maid, at the time, was new, and she was quite the bitchy type. When one was asleep, the other one was asking for attention. Sometimes, both cried at the same time, requiring me to run for help or shout for help. I pitied Mr. Biskut. Everyday he would come home as soon as he could, and upon reaching home, uniform still not taken off, he would have to care for the babies. That would be the only time for me to shower, and tidy the room, and attend to the kids' laundry. And then he would shower and had dinner as fast as he could manage, and we would each hold one baby until they fell asleep, but many nights were sleepless. Sometimes, I would wake groggily at 5 in the morning, to see my husband cuddling and swaying one child in his arms, then when the baby finally went to sleep, he showered and got dressed and went to work. After work, everything started just as per normally - sleepless.
At long last, as the babies were reaching their third month, we got a maid. Although the maid could only care for one baby, and I still had to have one baby with me, it was a big relief. The laundry. The early morning cries. I could shower both in the morning and evening again. And when the husband had to go outstation, I could let one baby sleep with the maid, alternately.
However. I began to notice the maid was constantly suffering from stomachache, and although the agent told us the maid had never worked in Malaysia and that she had gone through a successful medical checkup (with the result certificate shown to us) before she was sent to our house, the kind and honest maid told me that actually she was never brought to a doctor, and she had worked with a malaysian family before us and she was sent back to her agent because her previous employer accused her for being ill though of what she was never told. That got my husband and I worried. We thought she might be having Hepatitis, or anything infectious. For goodness sake she was caring after our babies! So we brought her to our family's clinic, the doctor there was a good friend to my mother. We requested for infectious disease's screening. Her blood was taken, and the doctor told us the result would come out in two days' time.
The very next morning, the doctor rang me. The maid was HIV positive. She advised me, that although HIV doesn't easily spread, if by chance she fell with one baby in her hands and both bled, or if she had ulcer in her mouth and the ulcer bled, the possibility might be VERY low, but the slightest possibility would be a gamble. I put my children at stake in this gambling. Agent anjing. Hanjingggg!!
So the husband called the agent, gave him a piece of his mind, and a few days later the agent came with a replacement maid. The HIV maid, though at that time we'd grown affectionate with, had to be returned. But the replacement, soon as she saw the twins, backed out. She admitted she wasn't into kids what more two babies. What the fuck. I told her she shouldn't worry, as I don't work hence she only had to care for one baby. No, she said. She wanted out. So there I was, back to square one all over again. Every day my children progressed beautifully, yet I was mentally stressed. And husband had to work outstation for nights.
Fortunately, this agonizing period only lasted for two weeks. Oh two weeks, some might say. That's not that long. Why fucking good for you, then. If you're not easily stressed, instead of fucking brag about it, why don't you be thankful to God you're born strong.
Okay angst aside. Finally. At week two, as I began to lose hope, I received a call from an agent nearby my house. My husband and I had been making so so soooooo many calls to soooo many maid agents. And you all should discern, with the political glitch between Malaysia and Indonesia, and the many deaths caused by the volcano eruption in Sumatera, getting a maid wasn't easy. However, yeah, an agent gave us a call, told us he had one temporary maid for us, we could have the maid until he one permanent maid could be attained.
So here, until today, we're still with this temporary maid. One big problem; she is deaf on the right ear. Initially I thought, alah stakat sebelah telinga je tarak hal lah. Wrong. She cannot hear when the babies cry, she can't hear me when I call - I literally have to walk over and tap her on the shoulder, and I have to use raised voice when talking to her. And she isn't quite an angel as we'd hoped, not as easygoing as our HIV maid, never cleaned a speck of house chores so far apart from that one room of ours, keeps on whining about how tiring it is to care for babies (although she only has to look after one, not both) but I am not in the position to complain. So long as I have another set of extra hands. Cepatlah agent dapatkan yang elok sikittttt!!
By the way, here's an important advice for the new mothers out there. If you suffer from post-partum depression (PPD), NEVER be embarrassed to talk about it, nor feel bad about yourself. Your hormones dropped drastically, and you're tired, and new babies require a lot of your energy, hence you're lethargic and this is mentally painful. In malay culture, we often hear this one BAD word to address PPD - "meroyan". And it is like a taboo subject to be discussed. I say fuck it. I consider myself lucky. A few weeks before I gave birth, a friend brought up this subject, encouraging me to discuss about it. She has a son, who is now one year old. She suffered PPD for 3 months after giving birth, and she thought it important to spread to friends and family about this. Being Indian, she too had difficulty to cope with the situation. Just as it is considered a bad thing among the malays, it is too for the Indians. She had to look for friends who would be opened enough to go in depth with the subject, and that was difficult too since we Asians prefer to keeping mum, afraid to be perceived as bad mothers. In the end, she abandoned her housewife position and went off to work. It was a solitary move, not from her child, but from the stressful life she was brought down with. There had to be a cure. And she found her cure. However bad her condition was, both her mother and her mother in law were there for her. She discovered it helped to openly talk about it with both mothers and friends at work. That was how she told me to do if it ever happened to me. There would be no sure solution, but just talk about it. Just so I could release if not much, a bit of those overwhelming feelings.
So here. I admit, though mild, I suffered from PPD too. How grateful it was to be reminded by my friend to come to her if I needed someone to talk to. I cried almost every day, and at certain point I questioned myself whether it was too early for me to have children. And thanks to that caring friend, every day I told myself that it was okay, just PPD, just PPD. But I cried anyway. My husband was wonderful, supporting me all the way, even took four-days MC when he saw me going far down. I didn't go to that friend to talk to her about my tension, because at that time, communication was just not possible. I wasn't reachable. I didn't have the time. I didn't have the heart. I am not the kind who lets other people in easily. I wasn't even keen on the idea of crying to my mother. There was only my husband. I cried and he would pull me to him and held me and at times we cried together. When he was in other countries, he would call me not to ask about the kids because as he said - he was sure the kids were fine under my care - but we raised the phone bills so high because he required me to tell how I felt, how I dealt with the day, and how he missed home. He would make me feel appreciated, as to lift up my mood just a little to get through the days without him.
About two weeks ago I had a deep conversation with an Aunt who coincidently was at the in-laws'. She was from Kuantan. She too was the one who brought up the subject, and encouraged me to talk about it. This one quote I remember; "As for me, although my job is another shit story (*lol*), at least I admit going to work is a way of escapism. Hence I just cannot imagine how you are able to just be home every day doing and facing the same situation over and over and over from morning til night, during the time you were suffering PPD." She adviced me to follow what her doctor instructed her; take supplements. Multivitamins and Vitamin C would suffice.
As for that, I would say, in order for a new mother to healthily cope with PPD, the husband should be the most important key. However, some PPD mothers would have illogical issues with their husbands, some simply indifferent, some become VERY clingy and need extra attention from their husbands. We mothers may be aware of PPD, but there's not much of a preparation one can do. When you're down under, you're just....down under. The people around you should pull you back up. If you're living with your parents, though it may not be an easy task, at least make them discern some general points regarding the situation. There had been a few friends and family members who just recently gave birth. I've discovered it isn't an easy job to make other people open enough to discuss about PPD with me. Either they truly are content and could never grasp what the hell is wrong with me, or it is mothers' natural en garde instinct to not be seen weak.
I am doing this as to bring forward the good deed that caring friend graced me with. I dont think she even know I suffered PPD, however, if only she knew what great help she had been just by telling me about her experience and pulling me to discuss about it those few weeks before I gave birth.
Post-partum depression is not a psychological problem. Science has proven that it is in fact due to chemical and hormone-changes reaction in our body.
For those of you who had never been weak, instead of showing disconcern or smirk to the weak ones; be thankful to God and help out the unfortunates. For those who are as myself and my friend and my aunt and other normal new mothers; reach out, and remember - this phase shall pass.
Okay now how the hell do I put my usual orange border on this super lengthy oh-my-god-someone-thinks-she's-a-fucking-self-helped-writer-what-the-eff-biatch? post?
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