Mother’s Day Busy

Let me begin by saying, I don’t have time for mother’s day …

 

“If I had to do it again, I would ask for the same old mom,

The one and the only mom, who has been there for me,

Thank you mummy, from the day I was born,

To the day we will meet again in heaven, you are my mom.”

 

I wrote this piece in a hurry for my mom’s 70^th birthday last year. It was also the year my mom received the Queen Elizabeth’s Silver Jubilee Award for volunteerism. My mum loved it.

 

We are strong and we can multi-task. We can pack in 120 hours worth of work in a single day and still come up iron-like. We amaze ourselves with a tedious job.

 

It becomes even more demanding and challenging when we have to provide special attention to our babies born with certain conditions. No parent out there should go through it, but it does happen and as parents we will do anything for the well-being of our children. We should be proud of ourselves for doing the best that we can.

 

We wonder, how life would be like if our kids were born normal. Avoiding all those hospital visits. But life goes on and we get used to it as time progresses. Our kids grow up, brawnier than any other child. It hurts when we think about it but things do work out, eventually. It’s our responsibility to sacrifice, and to put our children first so that they have everything they need starting with love.

 

My daughter was born at 33 weeks with the umbilical cord wrapped tightly around her neck multiple times. Most moms would be happy to bring their newborns back home but in my case I had to wait for two weeks. My baby was in the incubator and her face was blue black, her eyes, bloodshot. I heard many comments from relatives and friends. The best came from an uncle who said, “Don’t you worry, she is going to grow up fast, beautiful and healthy.” Boy, was he right.

 

Just when I thought the worst was over, my son was born three years later. I learned two new words that day – Brachial Plexus.

Everything went wrong that night, the hospital tried to cover it up, the doctor said shoulder dystocia, I was bleeding for 15 minutes after the delivery. Obstetric brachial plexus injury (OBPI) – what, how, why… ? My son was born in Malaysia in the same hospital where I was born. We didn’t get any help there so we packed our bags and my son’s first flight was, as a month old infant in a bassinette in Lufthansa to the Marie-Curie Children’s Hospital in Bucharest. We got the best care at this hospital. Some of his stretched nerves became active. My son is now a teenager and we are still exploring new treatments.

Everyone is our family agrees that the best course of treatment will be Borg implants. Now, if only we could get our hands on such technology. We always joke about my son being “damaged during delivery”. We have a good sense of humor about his OBPI.

 

We pack in mini vacations with the doctor’s treatments when it’s far away. We tease him about his travel expenses.

 

My kids turned out more than great. I remind my kids they have to be exceptional, especially because their entry into this world was not an easy one.

I am lucky to have them. My kids tell me everything. Even if they don’t, I will eventually find out.

 

I don’t believe in being a helicopter mom. I am more of a stealth aircraft mum; recording everything my kids do, saving the best for later. I don’t miss out on anything. They know I snoop around in their room; I blackmail them, phones, e-mails and Facebook monitored. As a parent it’s my job to care. It doesn’t matter what my kids think of me. What matters is, that they grow up to be good people and ready to take on the world. Remember this, you have to be more stubborn than your child, or they will eat you alive.

 

Moms, love your children, you have to be there for them, always. My mum was there for me during those challenging times and I will be there for my precious little ones – they will always be little ones to me.

 

It wasn’t easy for me writing this piece. I tried many times and I just couldn’t and I almost didn’t. I managed somehow, with a box of Kleenex next to me. It was allergies, I’m sure.

 

I don’t have time for mother’s day celebrations because…

… my daughter, was born on Mother’s Day. And, it’s a celebration like no other.

What more can a mom ask for?

 

To all the moms, dads and everyone assuming the role of a mom out there who can relate to this post, you know what we have to go through each day. There is always hope and a miracle waiting to happen. Hang it there, things will look brighter. You have to be positive so that your kids can ride on your energy.

 

Happy Mother’s Day Everyone!