CHILDBIRTH WOES

I ate plenty of pineapples. I did squats. I walked for miles and kilometres. I stimulated my nipples. I ate spicy food. I travelled in a speedy bus in a bumpy road. None of these brought my labour close.

The D-Day

I walked majestically into the hospital roughly half past 11 am on 2^nd February 2015, in the company of my friend, namesake, Nancy. It was a scheduled induction since I had carried my pregnancy past full-term. 41 weeks was no joke. As sports people say, dakika za lala salama (the baby was staying overtime).

I had no signs of labor. I must admit that I only felt the weight but contractions nilikuwa naskia na watu (I was hearing it on other women). Not even a pinch. The baby was kicking slowly. Not as fast as during the 32^nd week. I walked into the maternity and labour ward. There was no mother who was delivering on that day. So, immediately I resolved that this was my big day as all the attention would be shifted to me. Nothing would go wrong.

The nurse on duty asked for my essentials and right away directed me to some ward where I was put on a drip. My namesake, Nancy, who was also pregnant, sat by my side asking me there and then how it felt to be on a drip (kuwekewa maji). For the first 30 minutes into the drip, I felt no pain. I was just lying on the bed, my hand stretched right down to my hip. At one point, I told my friend, (kwani hii uchungu watu husema wanaskia mbona mimi sisikii?) for a while, I considered myself a kingpin.

My gynaecologist for the day, I have known him since my 2^nd trimester walked in. He said that he wanted to break my water. Legs apart, relax and go. My water did not break naturally. He inserted his fingers, and reached out for it. He broke my water. The water was warm. It felt like those old days in primary school when I used to wet the bed, and feel that warmth then snap, it gets cold again. It overflowed in the bed and got its way under the bed. The nurses who stood by the side looked in awe. It was painful I must say.

Labour woes

Wait until the 45^th minute, trouble began, my lips dried, eyes red, stomach pulled tight. The long painful journey had already started. I screamed; pulled my dreadlocks, hit the wall, called baby daddy, abused him, cursed motherhood and sex but all in vain. The worst was when the gynaecologist came to check how far I had dilated, Oh My! That man, a middle-aged man, slightly tall, brown in complexion came and requested me to put my legs apart, relax, and let him check how far I was. Again! Shell-shocked me, he put on a pair of gloves, and inserted his fingers onto my birth canal, I was only 3 cm dilated.

An hour, two, three hours. I cannot move because I am on a drip. Then a silly idea struck my mind. I wanted to walk around, I wanted to roll on the floor, I wanted a massage on my lower back and on my belly too. Yet I did not want anyone close to me. So, I said I want to go pee in the toilet. I thought the nurses would release me of the drip, walk slowly, pee, then come back, or even run away. I heard the nurse call another to bring on a catheter. I had no idea what it was until it was brought. Alhamudhulilahi! So they performed a urinary catheterisation on me. I regretted why I said that.

It is lunchtime. The doctor comes again, fingers me and voila! 6 cm dilated. The pain is real. So the caterer brings in rice and stew plus a banana. God, I am thirsty and I am not allowed to take water. I want to devour a whole jerry can but they won’t give me. They say if I have an urge, I should take sips of water. I managed to take two tablespoons of rice. Every moment I swallowed, I felt a sharp pain on my stomach. By this time, I had endured my best. So, as I approached contraction, I slightly pushed the baby and got relieved as I waited for another one.

My friend left at lunchtime to go eat. You know how pregnant women feel hungry easily, and cannot control the urge to eat anything that goes through the mouth. By this time baby daddy had come to the hospital, he was out on purpose.

Labor pain has no tears

On my bed, I remembered how my other friend, Mama Brayden, told me that, no one cries while in labour. It was true. I tried to remember bad things that had happened but none of then rolled tears down my cheeks.

I started screaming for help, daktari kuja unisaidie, aki nakufa. (Doctor please come and help, I am dying).

Another nurse from the blues replied, hakuna mtu ashawai kufa na labour pains, vumilia bado time yako haijafika.(no one has ever died of labour pains, just press on, your time has not come.)

I ignored her, aki mnaniangalia nikikufa, woiye, kujeni mnisaidie. (You are watching me die, please come help me.)

Another nurse brought me maternity pads, I asked her, uko na watoto, (do you have kids?) wangapi? (How many?)

She replied: Two. Ulisikia hii uchungu yote? (Did you endure all this pain?)  She replied: Yes I did.

I braced myself harder. I could hear them talking about me. Huyo mama leo ako peke yake, hana wa kumsaidia kupiga kelele, atakipatapata.(Today she is alone, she has no running mate to help her shout, she will find it rough.) Then a laugh ensued. I heard one say that I stop screaming because I will need that energy to push out the baby. I didn’t care. All I wanted was for this baby to come out. I kept pushing her out even if the ripe time hadn’t come. Nurses told me I will hurt her.

Kati yangu mimi na yeye nani anaumiza mwingine zaidi? (between me and her who is hurting the other most?) I thought.

The contractions became 3-4 minutes apart. I was dying to pinch, or even bite my bundle of joy that was making me go through hell. Circa 4 pm, the shout I made alerted everyone, Ndio huyo anatoka, kujeni mumwokote chini, (she is coming out, come pick her up.) Three nurses came in as one rushed to call the gynaecologist. As he came, he ordered them to get me inside the delivery room.

Inside the delivery room

My throat was sore. My body was weak. Legs feeble. The gynaecologist wore a green clothe. Five nurses standing in front of me. I was in a green gown too. I sat slanted on a bed, legs apart, relaxed, and then waited for the gynae to ask me to push.

Are you ready to push now? Asked the gynae. Yes, I am. I said gladly. The long wait was close to over.

Two pushes nothing. The third one I pooped. Fourth time I was told they had seen the head. I was tired.

One nurse said that I was hurting the baby yet it was time for her to make the grand entrance into the world. I couldn’t push anymore. But when I thought all I have gone through and end up in a caesarean birth, the thought of paying twice the amount of vaginal birth motivated me and puuuuuuuuuush! out she came. 5:03 pm. Monday, 02-02-2015. She was weighing 3.3 kilograms.

Awww! My cute darling daughter came out, she cried, she didn’t wait for a spank to cry.

 Removal of the placenta

People often say, ukishapush ni hivyo, (when the child comes out it is over!) But not yet. The placenta was removed by pressing my stomach severally. After it was out, I was still profusely bleeding. Blood was oozing on the bed. Quickly the doctor rectified the vessel that was bleeding. He put instruments I don’t know, the likes of forceps and another one similar to a long scissors. Another injection on my hip was administered to stop bleeding.

The needle and thread

I went through an episiotomy. According to an internet source, an episiotomy is also known as perineotomy, it  is a surgical incision of the perineum and the posterior vaginal wall generally done by a midwife or obstetrician during second stage of labor to quickly enlarge the opening for the baby to pass through (sic.)

I felt a sharp pain as the doctor sewed me. But I wouldn’t compare it to the labour one. When he was done, I changed my attire to the usual sky blue one I wore when I came to the hospital. As I stood on the floor, I was trembling, shaking as if I had been rained on by El Nino. I was transferred to another ward where I was served hot tea and porridge. I regained my energy.

I wanted to inform people that my bundle of joy had arrived. I started drafting a message that I never even reached the middle. So I called them. My voice was quite shaky but they got the message.

An evening without milk

She was brought to me while sleeping. So she slept by my side as I looked at her. Her face had red marks, on the nose and the upper part of the eyes as a result of pushing her before time. That aside, my baby is so healthy. Smiling as she is sleeping.

She wakes up, I put her on the boob and she can hardly have any of her booby juice. There is no milk. I can feel it she needs something to quench her thirst. She hasn’t drunk anything since three hours ago. So the nurse decides to give her drops of NAN, baby formula. A few drops.

We sleep, then the following day comes. Friends come over. Mama Brayden, Nancy along with two other friends come in.

Engorged breasts

They find me breastfeeding and Mama Brayden squeezes my boob to get some milk. But little amounts are coming. I am encouraged.

My boobs are so full and hurting but she can’t latch properly. Her mouth is so petite. I lay her to sleep as I recount the story of labour to my friends.


In the long-run, the result of the hotbed was great!

Shuneta my darling daughter

THE HOSPITAL BAG - CHECKLIST

At around week 36, of pregnancy, that's the last trimester, you start getting goosebumps. Questions like these pop up. Will my water break in public? Will the labor pains catch up with me while in the bus? What if contractions come in at any time? What if I don't make it to hospital? Can I deliver safely at home? What if I do not experience any of these?

I have been here, I had no idea what I should pack or what I should leave out. But I knew I would stay in the hospital for three days. It was automatic that I needed like four or more pairs of baby clothes. And diapers, more diapers.

I am going to list what one needs in the hospital during the three-day stay at hospital.

Photo Courtesy

FOR YOU

Cell Phone and Charger: This is the ultimate deal, because when your little bundle of joy arrives, you will need to break the news. You will need to share images of your brand new bouncing baby.

Have list of people your husband or someone close that brought you to the hospital for delivery should call, text, or email after your baby is born.

Slippers: Some hospitals provide slippers, basin and other toiletries, but, to be on the safe side, bring them along with you. They may come in handy if your feet are too swollen to fit into shoes.

Also, socks come in handy. Nights and mornings can be chilly.

Night gown and Underwear: Several pairs of undies are a must. And a cotton nightie will be much more comfortable than a hospital gown.

Hair Care Products: If you have natural hair or braided hair, you need clips and hairbands to help keep it in good position during labor. You will need olive oil or coconut oil (any oil of your choice) to keep it nourished.

Your Homecoming Outfit : You need a nice loose-fitting outfit that will make you feel comfortable. Remember your belly will still be round. Wearing a tight trouser or dress is quite not good.

Important Documents: Bring copies of your birth plan should come in handy, health insurance card, and hospital registration forms. Even if you've already registered at the hospital, some hospitals need to confirm your records before they can admit you.

Note book: Take notes on how cute you will write about your baby. Write about the hospital. Its warm nurses and everything good about your belly. You can even measure your belly and see the difference after the baby is out.

Some bit of distraction: Labor pains are real. They are bothersome. So bring along a book or an iPod. Get some relaxing music? Yes.

Nursing Supplies: Bring breast pads to absorb leaks, lanolin cream, nursing tank tops and bras, cooling gel pads, and a nursing pillow.

Toiletries: Deodorant, body wash, shampoo, face wash, lip balm, maternity pads and moisturizer are necessities. Witch Hazel pads can help relieve soreness after you give birth.

Snacks and Candy: Keep everyone happy by bringing enough snacks for you and your partner to share. Lollipops, chewing gum,  are especially great for conquering dry mouth during labor.

Soft Pillow: The pillows in the hospitals may be uncomfortable, and bringing one you're familiar with may help you to relax.

Takeout Menus: Hospital food isn't the greatest. Your hospital companion can order your favourite foods from outside.

Toothbrush and Toothpaste:  Your first photo ought to be great. Flaunt that set of dentals.

Watch: This will help you time your contractions and give you a heads up when the next one's near.

FOR BABY

Homecoming Outfit for Baby, Receiving blanket, Warm clothing, Baby socks, Diapers,

Baby hats (especially during cold weather), Baby Wipes.

XOXO 

THE TIGER STRIPES

Pregnancy is beautiful. The thought of it gives me goosebumps. It is magical. Unimaginable how that baby develops inside a mother's tummy for 40+ weeks.

Courtesy

So today I am going to talk about tiger stripes aka stretch marks. According to an online site, Baby Centre, Stretch marks are caused by your skin stretching as you gain weight during pregnancy. They usually appear as pink, red or purple-tinged lines on your tummy, bottom, thighs and breasts. Mine are dark.

During my pregnancy, I didn't apply Bio Oil, or other creams which make stretch marks disappear or fade. I had no idea. But on one or two occasions, I applied lotion on the area around my belly when I remembered. So now, since I have them, I fancy them. I cannot complain because when I look at the tiger stripes, then look at my daughter, I understand why I am the way I am.  I love them the way they are. They don't bother me. They are not itchy. I am just OK, with them. 


Here are some photos I compiled of my tiger stripes.

 Here are some remedies to stretch marks if you find them a bother. An online site,http://www.myhealthtips.in/  gives an outline on how to rid pregnancy stretch marks.


How To Avoid Stretch Marks During Pregnancy


Drink a lot of water to keep hydrated, it is good for the skin. This should be accompanied by an anti-oxidant rich black, white or green tea.

Keep the body rejuvenated by walking and doing aerobics regularly. This helps blood circulation.

Rub Vaseline Intensive Care Cream on stomach during pregnancy.

During pregnancy, massage regularly your whole body with either Olive or Bio oil before taking bath. It reduces chances of getting stretch marks.

Maintain a healthy lifestyle by incorporating Vitamin C, Vitamin E and proteins in your diet. This helps in tissue repair and growth.
Exfoliate the probable affected areas of the skin like your stomach, thighs, chest during pregnancy by regular massage with oils. Moisturizing your skin with natural ingredients helps in enhancing the elasticity of the epidermis.

Quick and easy remedies to scrub off Tiger Stripes

Potato Juice

Take a medium-size potato and cut it into two-halves. Take one piece and rub it on the stretch marks. See that the juice gets soak into the skin.  Then wash it off with water.

Sugar Scrub 

Sugar scrub is another remedy for stretch marks. Mix 1 Tbsp of sugar with few drops of lemon juice and a small amount of almond oil. Mix it well. Now apply this mixture on your stretch marks. This scrub exfoliates your dead skin. Do this every day before take your bath. Watch your stretch marks reducing.


Thanks for passing by.

PARENTS WITH CHILDREN WITH SPECIAL NEEDS, THEY DESERVE LOVE AND SUPPORT

1 Thessalonians 5:18: Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

It is some minutes past 3 p.m. The day’s goals have been achieved. Yippee! I am heading home. As I walk towards the stage I notice some two mothers, carrying their children on the shoulder on one hand, and on the other hand, they are carrying a wheelchair each. Two walk past me. It is Friday. Buses are hurriedly picking and dropping passengers. Friday it is; they are competing against each other to get that extra coin. Of course it is a good thing to get more. Much more money, having money is a good thing.

Kilimani Primary School, Nairobi is a unique school. In its system, it has incorporated students with disability, mostly the deaf, blind and handicapped. It is situated in along Argwings Kodhek road few metres from Yaya Centre. It is one the only two schools in Nairobi where children with disabilities are offered a chance to develop their potentials in a conducive environment.

 So the bus I am in, enters a mother, who just exited Kilimani Primary School. On her back, she has carefully strapped her baby girl on her back. She sits next to me. Three metres away, I come to terms that the radio in the bus is playing songs. It plays some infamous gospel songs. She unstraps her baby and puts her carefully on her lap. Then Christina Shusho's Nina Wimbo plays suddenly. The woman starts chanting the song. I listen to her as she deeply sings the word, she means it. the woman has already endured enough with her disabled girl. Nina wimbo, wimbo….. .Mimi nina wimbo, wimbo, mwenzenu nina wimbo. Wimbo wa sifa, wimbo wa shukrani. She continues Jehova, Jehova, Jehova.. Tabibu. From my heart I just feel this lady is thanking God for the life of her kiddo. No matter what, she is still strong in the Lord.

This brings me to talk about my brother. Brother number two. I don't fully know and understand how it feels to have a child with special needs but my mama does. As brethrens across the globe make their wishes to God, my prayer is that, may the parents with children with special needs have the strength and will to press on in their daily hustles.

1998 was a year that Kenya had one of its dark moments in history. The bombing of United States Embassies in Kenya and Tanzania saw at least 200 people killed and more than 1,000 injured. The bombings took place within minutes of each other at around 1030 local time. 

This is the year my mother’s protruded belly was to burst open and behold! A baby could come out. By that time I was circa four years. Already into my pre-school. The fourth member of the family was around the corner. We could get a chance to drink soda, eat sweet bananas and get to hold our new-born baby. What a joy!

The big day came knocking; my cousin accompanied my mother to the hospital. A hospital in the neighbouring province, Rift Valley. She stayed two days in hospital, the third day she came home. On the way, the unexpected happened. They had a nasty accident. A cow was crossing the road when a driver coming from the opposite direction tried not to hit the creature but came head on collision with the vehicle my mum was in. At the time of the incident, my cousin’s upper lip ripped. People who were in that matatu sustained severe injuries while others’ breathe was cut short.

LIFE AFTER THE ACCIDENT

My mama sustained minor injuries. She recounts the incident as so dreadful. She says that she feared for her little bundle of joy. As of today, a victim of the accident is circa 18 years and has never spoken, as a result of the accident. My mum has been strong all way. First, after the accident, the baby was just okay in appearance but he sustained internal head fractures. Something, we came to realize way too late. Doctors said the baby was too young for an x-ray to be conducted on him. So some scans were run that showed his brain was affected. What’s the solution? Medics seemed to be relaxed on this issue.

We sought traditional help. My bro has taken way too much herbal medicine. Only God Knows. Herbalists one after the other have promised to have him cured through traditional ways, but all in vain. Being the Christian my mum is we sought help and comfort from God. We could assemble every evening sing a song, pray, say the grace, shake hands then greet the blankets. My brother, William, never crawled, he moved with his butt. He had convulsions most of the times. (Tears)

Convulsion after another brought about epilepsy. He could fall down, eyes white, stiff body, drooling, and would bite his tongue. This happened a couple times. The first time it happened, I guess my bro was around a year and half or younger. He fell down with a thud and eyes turned out then started biting his tongue. You should have seen my mum scream, I was beside her, some passers-by ran to help her. They held him in some position, put a spoon in his mouth to avoid him biting off his tongue. After recovering from the convulsions, he seemed so tired, worn out, sick.

Kama kuna mtu ameona shida, mamangu hakosi kwa hiyo list. Since 1998, she has never left the side of my bro. Being a teacher, was a plus for her since she always tags my bro along. My bro was enrolled in a special school. He now learns life skills, how to cook, how to be a good man etc. Sometimes I worry for my bro, will he marry? How will it be for him as a man? I ask myself a lot of questions. But all in all, I thank the Almighty for the gift of life. As long as he is alive, his story is not yet over. 

THE TRADITIONAL CURE

I came to the city. Full of life. In full swing to start off that campus course. My all-time dream career. To become a Journalist. I have wanted to become a Swahili journalist. I love Swahili. I love sports. Maybe someday nitatangaza mpira.  Or somewhere in Radio Citizen or Radio Maisha host a show that plays rhumba, soukous and lingala. May my dreams come true. God, send me an Angel.

I am a social person. But my face does not show it. People say I am quiet. My voice is thin. Living in a single room can be hectic, one step uko kitchen, another step bedroom, another one lands you on the study. Since its boring to see the same things over and over again, I make friends. Occasionally we could hang at each other’s house. Our nature as women, we share and talk of almost about everything. 

On this day, it was a Friday. Friday is a big day for Seventh Day Adventist flock. Mama Junior, Susan (her name), and I talked on something that changed my bro’s life. I narrated her a whole story on how my bro was ailing and how he had used even the last dime to get cure but in vain. She also told me that, her son, Junior, when he was young, had convulsions but through the help of a herbalist, had his cure. 

She gave me her mother’s number so that I may get in touch with my mother so as to contact the herbal doctor. 

I called my mother. The healing process started.

Parents with children with special needs need not to be looked down upon. They desire to be appreciated. They need your support. Your love. Time. Money. Prayers. Kindness. The struggles they endure in their day-to day activities have made them persistent. Please treat their disabled children well. I encourage you to participate on this Run For Charity Events. You can save a child's life.

Part two continues.....

Thanks for stopping by.

MASHUJAA EDITION: MY HERO

Hey peeps, today is Mashujaa day, 20-10-2015. I have a Shujaa this Mashujaa day.


I am going to speak about a friend, better known to me as Eunice Akinyi. You see, a jaber there. She is only twenty-something and is already doing well to herself. A friend I have known since my early days in campus. We were classmates. She is so outspoken. Beautiful. Has many friends from all walks of life. The crazy Kipsang, remember him? And the naughty Yego. What stands out in her is her skin complexion. She isn’t dark, yet not so chocolate but something in between. Her skin tone is flawless. 

So last year December we cleared undergraduate studies. She had majored in Broadcast Production. I was in the Print Production Class. Word on the street has it that this girl is going places. Back then she was a model. A runway model in that case. She is stylish, her looks so heavenly.

Photo Courtesy  http://fashionstylemogul.com/

Recently, she was interviewed on Ebru Africa TV’s Table Talk with Beryl Ooro. She is a young entrepreneur at Yuns Beauty and Photography Limited where she doubles up as the CEO. Her office is at the View Park Towers, 16 th Floor, Suite 10. She is really dreaming big as a young achiever. Catch the clip here.

Eunice has taken it a notch higher as she had promised and launched her online magazine. It is a thumbs up. Here it is;

http://issuu.com/crememagazine/docs/creme_magazine_october_2015

Also, check out her Facebook Page, Creme Magazine for offers and fashion-related ujanjez.

Another fashion blogger who christens herself as the fashion style mogul, Meron Dymphana, works hand in hand with Eunice. Yuns Photography Limited has done a number of her photos and  make-up too. Catch her at;

http://fashionstylemogul.com/

What makes me term her as my Shujaa is that she made it possible for me to wear make-up. I am not a fan of make-up anyway. So, a question pops on Facebook, who is the cover model for Crème Magazine, a magazine that Eunice is the Chief Editor, I make a right guess and guess what? I win a free photo-shoot. So, we agree on a date for the photo-shoot.

I am super excited to enter her office; we catch up on some stories on our classmates’ then serious business. She starts applying me make-up. I have this weird feeling that she is smearing ‘those things’ on me and I will look like a clown or worse get big fat pimples. She finishes doing her thing and the result is wow.

I have been of the idea that one day if I wear make up, I will walk head facing down. Cause I feel shy in make-up. I feel like I am a whole new person, different person, something different from me. And by the way, for me I only carry Vaseline in my bag, which I even end up not using, applying on my lips. That is how conservative/primitive I can be. I never forget to roll down that Roll-on on my armpits because sometimes if I sweat, Ngai (God).

I think I will be trying this look every other day, really, yes. Yippeee! 

Me (in a black top) and Eunice(in a blue dress) looking sweet.

WHEN I BECAME A MOM, A LOT CHANGED...

My Physique

I used to be this slender girl in my teen years. Now I am big, not so big but I have learnt to accept and embrace my body. The changes that have happened since I gave birth, the stretch marks (I am going to write a whole page on stretch marks on my next blog post). I understood the real meaning of having breasts like mine. See here.

Every day is a surprise

Every day is a surprise. Yes it is. Today the baby was staring at you the next day she is mumbling the mamama and bababa words. Yesterday she was crawling, tomorrow she is up on her feet.

You look at your baby in the mirror instead of yourself

This happens a lot, every time we stare at the mirror, I look at her face instead of mine. It is so cool. It melts my heart.

I dropped few friends

My phone-book was full, even the phone had jammed saving more contacts. When I finally gave birth, I realized that half the people on my phone-book were just mere-friends, whom we do not share same interests. One by one I did away with them. So, nowadays, mostly my phone contacts read as Mama Joy, Mama Andy, Mama Sam etc the list goes on and on.

I reason differently

Since I am a certified mom now, the way I think changed instantly. I give things a deeper look. My decision gotta impact two lives. Mine and baby's.

I am more loving and caring 

Motherhood has taught me to handle and care for the baby with utmost love. Babies can be delicate when they contact a cold. You need to be there for the Little One to clean her nose, ears, and change their diaper.

I have become a time manager

No time is wasted. I know when I wake up at 5.00 a.m. , I have to fix her porridge or cereal, feed her, take a shower, put her to sleep, change her diaper, dress up, all in an hour, then go to work.

Taking shower is a luxury

When you have a young one, you will come to terms that showering is a luxury. You may put the baby to sleep, then, as you are readying up to shower, clothes off, the baby wakes up with a loud scream, so you have to choose between having a bath or attending to the baby. Sometimes you will have to bathe hurriedly when you have the chance to.

You don't mind going to bed late 

I sleep at 10 p.m. everyday no matter how early I try to feed the baby. She is usually fed at 7 p.m. But she stays active until 10 p.m. It's not a big deal. As the babies grow, they tend to get active most times during the day. They sleep less during the day.


The bye-kiss

Leaving for work in the morning is hard. If she is awake I have to tell her sweet words such as bye sweety, miss you already, see you in the evening, be a good girl, etc. Saying good-bye can take time even if it means I do not catch the morning bus because I was kissing my darling daughter, it is ok.


The extra kilos, which seems to go nowhere, are worth having when I look at her

Every morning when I look at the mirror, I see stretch marks, black tiger stripes, I love them because I cannot change them. They are part of me. And it is because of them I have my daughter.

Redefined inner strength

When she popped out, I knew I became a superwoman. The labor pains were horrible. But her face was beautiful enough to remember the birth pain.


I stopped being judgmental

Instead of giving parents of a screaming child a 'Can't-they-shut-him-up?' look, you give them this look 'I-know-the-feeling'.


I believed at love at sight

When I first laid my eyes on her, I fell in love. As days go by, I fall in love with her again and again.

I started getting heartbroken when I watch news, esp emotional ones. 

Stories that appeal to human nature have done me harm because I give them a mother's perspective. For example, what if a pedophile harms my child?


I want to be safe always, just for my baby

I always take every precaution because the consequences will affect both of us. For example if I drive recklessly, I will end up in a cell and my baby will miss me for the night I will be behind bars.


I am fearless

I stand up for what I know is right. I speak out. I have a strong will. Unstoppable. I want to reach my limits. It is not over. I know as long as I am alive, my story is not yet over.

We share everything

I cannot drain a whole mug of water alone when my daughter is around, she wants some. Everything, literary everything.


I am doing a great job

This quote sums it up all.

Mother is a verb. It’s something you do. Not just who you are.

Cheryl Lacey Donovan

POST-PARTUM DEPRESSION, THE HEMORRHOIDS

Hemorrhoids is no joke. It is real pain. It is uncomfortable. It is itchy.

I come out of the hospital. My bundle of joy is worth it. A baby Girl, Shuneta. I keep looking at her every moment. She has a lot of hair. A pinkish face. Her umbilical cord has not fallen, it is still clamped. She keeps smiling while sleeping. It is so super adorably cute. Sometimes my eyes get watery seeing her yawn, smile or even cry. She is super gorgeous. I am in love. The six-hour labor was not in vain. She is so tiny. She is weighing at 3.3 kgs. Sometimes I get chills that I may fall her down.

She uses a lot of diapers. Like, I have to change her six to eight times a day. Her poop (meconium) is dark green. Sometimes she soaks her diaper way too earlier. But I am loving her that way. She gets her BCG vaccine 7 days after birth.


Barely six weeks after giving birth, I started experiencing some sharp pain after a bowel movement. It continues getting worse. By this time I was taking sitz baths (sitting on warm water with salt). Every morning and evening or after every bowel movement. After every bowel movement, I would feel an itchy sharp pain.

Nursing the baby is hectic. Sitting is troublesome. Walking is dramatic. Hemorrhoids pain is unbearable. It becomes a double tragedy for me since my birth canal hasn't come to terms yet. Even right now I am feeling the hemorrhoids pain. I cannot sit properly. I cannot sit for long hours. I keep standing or moving around.


According to an online health site, http://www.emedicinehealth.com/  it defines hemorrhoids as;


Hemorrhoids are enlarged veins located in the lower part of the rectum and the anus. The veins become swollen due to increased pressure within them, usually from constipation or profuse diarrhea, and during pregnancy because of the pressure of the enlarged uterus.

Internal hemorrhoids are located in the inside lining of the rectum and cannot be felt. They are usually painless and make their presence known because blood is seen with a bowel movement. Internal hemorrhoids can prolapse or protrude through the anus.

External hemorrhoids are located underneath the skin that surrounds the anus. They can be felt when they swell and may cause itching, pain, or bleeding with a bowel movement. A thrombosed external hemorrhoid occurs when blood within the vein clots, and may cause significant pain.


http://www.mayoclinic.org/ gives remedy to hemorrhoids as follows;

You can often relieve the mild pain, swelling and inflammation of hemorrhoids with home treatments. Often these are the only treatments needed.

-Use topical treatments. Apply an over-the-counter hemorrhoid cream or suppository containing hydrocortisone, or use pads containing witch hazel or a numbing agent.

-Soak regularly in a warm bath or sitz bath. Soak your anal area in plain warm water 10 to 15 minutes two to three times a day. A sitz bath fits over the toilet. You can get one at most drugstores.

-Keep the anal area clean. Bathe (preferably) or shower daily to cleanse the skin around your anus gently with warm water. Soap isn't necessary and may aggravate the problem. Avoid alcohol based or perfumed wipes. Gently dry the area with a hair dryer after bathing.

-Don't use dry toilet paper. To help keep the anal area clean after a bowel movement, use moist towelettes or wet toilet paper that doesn't contain perfume or alcohol.

-Apply cold. Apply ice packs or cold compresses on your anus to relieve swelling.

-Take oral pain relievers. You can use acetaminophen (Tylenol, others), aspirin or ibuprofen (Advil, Motrin IB, others) temporarily to help relieve your discomfort.


With these treatments, hemorrhoid symptoms often go away within a week. See your doctor if you don't get relief in a week, or sooner if you have severe pain or bleeding.

THE EXTRACTION

It is sunny. It is dry. It is dusty. Activities outside are running as usual. Mama mbogas are quickly attending to their orders since it is roughly some minutes past noon. Butcheries are flooded with clients who are buying a ka quarter for lunch. I can smell the aroma of fries metres away. Fries (chipo) sell like no one's business. They are packed from as low as sh20, sh30 , sh50 onwards.

Today is the d-day. We are going to extract the plastic teeth. So I give Mama Seth a call and she asks me to pass by her house as she is readying for the journey. This day stands out. There are less vehicles at the stage. The ones coming are either full or are charging a little over the normal bus fare. Haidhuru. We board a Utimo Bus (a matatu that operates in Umoja-Tao using Jogoo road). Unluckily I sit on the middle-back seat. Inside the matatu, it is so full, hot. The pot-holes are making the bus go in a shaky manner, thus rubbing each other's shoulders. I am sweating. The baby is sweating and fast asleep.

The Estate

Our destination is Makongeni (Okongo). Makongeni borders Kaloleni Estate. From the gate you can see the full of life in this estate. At the gate, a man in his early 30s is selling candies at the entrance of the gate, it is evident people in this estate are living in abject poverty. Many people here are hustlers, they are struggling to make ends meet. Others are pulling carts (mkokoteni) loaded with jerrycans of water, tuk tuks are busy going round the estate picking and dropping passengers. The estate is dirty, blocked sewage are emanating a foul smell, a pungent smell, litter is all over, used cooking fat containers are carelessly thrown all over, used polythene bags are also all over. This indicates that the estate's management is not so concerned about the hygiene of its inhabitants.



We stroll past a big field where we meet boys roughly 8-13 years are playing football, a ball made out of polythene paper bags. They are shabbily dressed. We cross through a path that leads us to the mama who was to extract the false teeth from the baby's mouth. I am so freaking out because I do not know what to expect. I hear it is a painful ordeal. My God! I cry for my baby.



Our Arrival


Upon arrival, we meet the old mama cooking. She is cooking murenda and posho, (posho sounds too odd). Actually it's ugali, sembe, sima. A meal with such many names. You should have seen her sweating while swirling that ugali. That cooking stick was dancing to the music. Before then the house. The house is hastily built, it is a mabati house, used mabati. Rusted-mabati. When inside, you can clearly see the sky. When it rains, she says she practically removes all her things and puts them on a higher place. The woman is in her sixties if I guess right. She quickly serves her people then we start on the baby.


'The Cure'

She asks me for Robb and Vaseline. I hand over and witness her do her thing, what she does best. She says I have been giving this baby nightmares for not massaging her, yes I haven't been massaging her but is that how to do it? She undresses her and pulls her hands and legs, presses her thumb finger on her stomach and back and says that's how to massage the baby. She cries uncontrollably. This mama also is also a midwife. She says she has assisted many women who cannot afford the 'free' maternity hospital fee give birth at only Kshs 2000. By now maybe she charges higher because people especially her neighbors and those who have tasted her services regard her as 'creme de la creme' loosely translated to as 'the finest of them all'.


The Extraction


As the baby cries wildly, she grabs her and squeezes her cheeks to open her mouth. This is heartbreaking. She takes some dried herb-like powder, she says it is ginger and other herbs she did not disclose, and scrubs them onto baby's lower and upper jaw while saying that it is going to cure the baby. She says the gums may bleed. After finishing her thing, she says the baby is now okay. She is wailing. Her gums are red. She is sweating. God why?

Why me? Why should this baby go through this? Is it true that this plastic teeth were to kill  her? Was the diarrhea caused by these false teeth? Isn't this too hard to bear alone. I start chanting Burdens are lifted at Calvary silently.




I give the mama her cash then we leave the place with Mama Seth. The baby is asleep. We take a matatu back home.



Your comments are welcome on this menace on plastic teeth. Is it true? Or it is a way of minting money. Do babies die if they have plastic/false teeth. Let's get talking.Is it an old myth? Who let the plastic teeth grow with other milk teeth of the baby? Did they interfere with the dental formula?

Or rather, whom do we share the same story?

  

ABOUT BEING A MOTHER, 7 THINGS I WANT MY DAUGHTER TO KNOW

God  above everything

I am not being old fashioned here daughter, but God is above everything. He is omnipresent (everywhere), omnipotent (all powerful), the omniscient (all knowing). Read your bible as often as you can. There is this solace you find while reading the bible. A feeling of tranquility, peace of mind, completeness, accomplishment. Name them. Let's take this example;

 Ephesians Chapter 6:1-4, my all-time favorite scripture, Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for it is right. Honour thy father and mother; (which is the first commandment with a promise;) That it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on earth. 

Did you see it right there, God is assuring little children who obey their parents that not only will their lives be well, but also they will live long. (Longer than Methuselah?)

Being a first born comes with responsibility

Being a first born is not going to be a walk in the park. A lot is expected from you. Knowing that your younger siblings or cousins are looking up to you for advice, as a role model, a teacher, an elder sister is a monumental task. Taking risks, making decisions is going to be your day-to-day activity. You are going to give up your last piece of meat simply because your younger sister or brother wants to have it to himself. Myself, I am the second born in a family of five, a sister and three brothers.

Having a beautiful heart exceeds just the mere physical appearance

Nowadays, the world is so dynamic. Long gone are the days when people valued the inner beauty. Now, it is the outer beauty that sells. Beautiful cover models grace the fashion and beauty magazines with a 22 inch waist., make-up on all their faces screaming HOT, it is not wrong. But the small details matter. Have a beautiful heart, it will help you and the people around you. Be different. Be you. Be Shuneta.

Passing tests is not a guarantee for a brighter future

You are prone to do a lot of examinations. The 8-4-4 compulsory system shouldn't determine your how clever you are. In a test, a teacher might ask questions that you did mot read for and leave out the ones you had sufficiently prepared for. Do not feel that you have insufficient brains. No! Be innovative. Be creative. Creativity has no limits and you will surely make it.

Be happy, love yourself, have friends

Being anti-social will ruin you and even end up getting ulcers. It is a good thing to have friends. Friends that influence you positively. Both boys and girls your age. The silly talks, the friendly hugs, the emotional tears, the road trips, love, break-ups, the gifts, the birthdays, oh my! it is endless. Enjoy with friends, have fun in the leisure park, walk around, go to the animal park, the French fries. All these, do them with moderation. Life is sweet, sometimes it is sour.

Discover your talent at an early age

As you grow, your mama will always be your side. Always making you differentiate good from bad. Trust me I will make the best out of you. Wait till you start talking. And walking of course. Oh! Reading. And when you find out Mama was blogging about you ever since. That sweet feeling. Awwww.

Being humble is key

Humility will take you places. Be humble.

A LETTER TO MY HOUSE HELP

Dear learned Kelly,

I hope this finds you well. Right now I am so furiously mad.  How can you just leave like that? When you know I will have a couple of problems to deal with. It is not even the end of the month. You did not psychologically prepare me.

Flash back to last month, Tuesday 18th evening. The day you came to help me stay with the baby as I go to work. I know I was desperate to find a person to babysit my Darling Daughter. I took you in with your condition, remember you are in your first trimester.

I vividly remember that evening how I rushed to pick you up from the stage in the company of my sister-in-law. That was fast. Upon arrival, I made you tea and served it with bread. I remember that 100 bob was my last note after spending some good amount looking for someone to sit in for me. I noted the hunger you had (that of a heavily pregnant woman) and you swallowed enormous sips of tea.

All along our rapport had been well until I was told by my hubby that Kelly (not her real name) wanted to leave. Reason, she was being overworked. Wait a minute. Did you wash my clothes? No. Did I send you shopping? No. All you did was babysitting and washing her clothes. As our chats got lively back then you used to tell me that you intended to stay with me as long as I wanted. Foolish me I did not read your lips. Couldn't you just slip a note through my bedroom door to inform you that your stay would come to an end any time soon.

But, just to let you know, I had a lot plans for you and your unborn baby. I even thought of throwing you a baby shower to help you and your kiddo but you acted too fast. Remember every morning I woke up at 5 am, only to prepare baby porridge so as to give you easy time while the baby wakes up. I went an extra mile many times. You didn't see. All you saw was overworking. Okay, you have your rights as a woman and as an individual.

One thing I must laud you is that you kept your pregnancy despite the circumstance you faced. You were all glitter and glamour, a pint-sized model, a P1 professeur (teacher).

The argument that ensued my house on a Sunday afternoon of you not wanting to spend another second in that house is still vivid on my mind. I just looked at you. Since I couldn't argue back, I could be a fool to do so. I never argue with pregnant women. I was there once and I know how it feels when one counters your argument. You are now gone. I always have solutions to my problems. Quick ones and snap another one is en-route.


You didn't allow me to say thanks. I can imagine the one month you've helped me and my daughter, helping where you can. Without you, who could? Thanks a bunch. I appreciate. Ero kamano. I also thank your ex (my bro-in-law) who brought you in to assist me. I salute you (Omondi). I will miss the days you chanted this glorious song with a mellow voice to my daughter the 'Good morning, good morning,(sic) I love you, good morning, I miss you, good morning', even during the afternoon. A good morning song. (Giggles). It really melted my heart.



Yours,

Boss.

OF EXPECTATIONS THAT TURN TO DISAPPOINT

I have always yearned for that one photo that I will take her while smiling. With either the lower or upper incisors out. That one photo. I know the wait will be worth.


I had a dream; I dreamt that Shun had a tooth. It was neither the upper incisor nor the lower incisor. It was a lower canine. Only one tooth. I was happy.

I hurriedly woke up in the morning as usual, cooked her porridge and go back to check on her, she is fast asleep. I wait longer, she does not wake up. I start dusting the sitting room, putting the house in order, drawing curtains, disinfecting baby's toys before she wakes up. Two hours, waiting yet she isn't up. I want to see if she has a tooth.

Now I start washing her nappies and clothes. She is not snoring as usual. When I get into the room, she is just resting as usual. I assume and continue with laundry. Soon, I have emptied the laundry basket. I pour a portion of porridge from a thermos flask into a cup to cool because by now I know in the next thirty minutes; she will be up angry and hungry, throwing up her legs in the air.


I check my phone it is almost 10 a.m. Ooops! I have a message. It is Safaricom again. Your Daily Internet Bundle is almost finished. It is a soft way that Safaricom has found to tell it's subscribers that their bundle balance is over. Meaning it is 0 MB. Kitambo they used to warn us when it is below 2 MB. Kumbe I left data ON. Haidhuru. There are like 900+unread Whatsapp messages, mostly are from a group that was recently created. A comrade has fallen. I knew her right from primary school, when we were roughly 9-14 years, at St Andrew Kagggwa Girls, Nyansiongo,  a school I must admit moulded us to what we are now. We loved the canes (pun intended). Dorothy, was a lively girl, it is evident from her photos, a girl of style I must say. Rest in Peace.

********************************************************************************

Mama Seth is my long-time friend. Way before she got married. She had this enviable figure before pregnancy and childbirth messed it up. By this time I am living in Eastlands, Umoja Innercore. Holla Umoinner Buses, You Rock. It is around 5 pm, she walks in my room with my all-time girlfriend, Awuor, it is a bedsitter, not so together, from the entrance of the door, there is baby's basin with unwashed clothes, on the bed are scattered baby shawls, the sink is full of last night's utensils, the carpet is dirty, Umoja's dust is no joke. I am so happy; I can't wait to break good news to Maureen (Mama Jay). My baby has teeth. She is only three months. Kweli girls grow faster. Before then, I have sent a text message to Mama Jay (Botswana) that Shun is growing teeth. We are happy, she told me Jay has teeth too but not the usual incisors or canines. We studied with Mama Jay in High School.

Plastic teeth

Plastic tooth, Photo Courtesy

As soon as I told Mama Seth that Shun was growing teeth, and asked her to observe her dental formula, I read the disappointment on her face. Conso (this is Shun's name too, her grandma's name-full name Consolata) ako na meno ya plastic. I have been reading on plastic teeth, and it never occurred to me like my Conso atakuwa na meno ya plastic. Quickly, she suggests that hiyo meno inakuwanga mbaya, inafanya mtoto ahare, anakosa appetite, saa zingine watoto hukufa, hiyo kitu ni mbaya sana. Nakwambia Seth wangu pia aligrow hiyo meno, aki alikuwa anamiss breaths saa zingine. God, why me. This time I had no elderly person to talk to. Ilibaki tu nijipange.

I immediately text Mama Jay (Kenya) that Conso has plastic teeth. The tone in her message is that of pity. She advises me take her to hospital, a public hospital. She narrates the process of extracting that plastic tooth as ruthless. She even gives me an example of her friend, who tried extracting her baby's plastic teeth traditionally, the baby now is a flying angel. Rest in Peace. He only lived two weeks. He died of excessive bleeding.

Mama Seth tells me to jipanga that she knows a mother who stays at Okongo, Makongeni. The mother in question is known to extract plastic teeth traditionally. Ati zinaisha kabisa, hazitakusumbua tena. Sasa atamea meno vizuri hata hatakusumbua tena.

Mama Seth: Si anakusumbuanga sometimes usiku, ulisema jana hajalala kabisa ni kukusumbua tu.

Me: Eeeh, aki Mama Seth ukweli, but mimi sioni hii meno kama ni bother.

Mama Seth: Mimi najua, wewe jipange then twende Okongo Conso asaidike uwache stress.

To be Continued

HOUSE HELPS, THE HUSTLE AND BUSTLE

Episode 1 - Mboch Diaries

Looking for a househelp is hectic, it is cumbersome, frustrating, effortless and even heart-breaking.

Nowadays, thanks to technology and a new era, after completing basic 8-4-4 education, one enrolls for computer classes while others prefer both computer and driving classses. Myself, I did only computer after completing form four. Driving baadaye.

Si I wake up as usual, then find a missed call from my baby daddy. He is working outside town and tells me to start looking for a mboch (Househelp). I lengesha the storo saying it is still early. After a week is when I gundua, Ghai, am almost going back to work na sina mboch. I start making calls, I ask madhee if she can get me someone to chill with my baby during the day, she gives me a number of a neighbour's daughter who has completed fourth form. We talk with the girl and she agrees to come. Two days later her phone goes incognito and the storo dies like that.

As I head to the groceries, I meet a crertain kamboch kamshamba kwa stairs, she looks so hardworking. I task her to look for me a househelp. In the evening she says that she has gotten someone. I  shuka downstairs from fourth floor to buy credo only to call and she is mteja. God, Why Me? I lament.

The following day, the same mboch who I tasked to look for me a househelp knocks at my door. This time she says that amepata mtu. ''Huyu msichana tunaongelelea tulisoma naye primary school, but mimi nilitransfer, so hatukumaliza na yeye, but yeye ni mzuri hakuji kukusumbua sumbua kama wengine, she said. Sasa shida ni ati hana fare ya kumtoa Western akuje Nairobi. So I mpesa that girl and the following evening she tells me amepanda Mbukinya, so I should chill her in the morning at Country Bus kwa sababu hiyo ndiyo stage ya Mbukinya. Deal sealed.

LOVE IS GROWING

Chilling with Shun after work

I normally leave work at 3 p.m. Starting 2.30 p.m, I am itching to shut down my computer so as to catch up with the nearest bus to go see my munchkin. I am not planning to stop anywhere, my first stop should be at home. I do not want to waste even a single second. At 2.55 p.m, I am closing tabs, the Mozilla Firefox tab, Internet Explorer, since I am working on Chrome, I leave it open. I am carefully closing Microsoft Word and Excel Sheets that I have been working on from 7 a.m.

As it clocks 2.59 p.m., my computer is shutting down. I dandia a Citi Hoppa Bus that takes me to my destination where I dandia another matatu. I want to fly and see her. How has she been? Has she been wailing the whole day? Was she given water after eating food? She constipated the other day and it was hell. She cried before she pooped, not so soft poop. Did she wake up because I left her sleeping in the morning?


I arrive at home precisely 4 p.m. The house is upside down, moreso the kitchen, let alone baby's dirty nappies. But first things first, I breast feed her for 45 minutes, give her a 10 minute break then we embark on playing. Our play involves, humming, clapping hide-and-seek. We then catch up with the 4.30 p.m sunset. Our love is growing.

So I fetch water and continue washing her nappies and tidying up the house as she moves with the help of her walker. She is moving so fast so I have to be careful, she might fall downstairs, God Forbid! By now she already knows me, she can smell me meters away. Soon it is clocking 6 p.m. Time to start preparing her food. I peel a good portion of butternut, carrots and white Irish potatoes. It is slowly cooking. In 25 minutes time, it is ready.

SIX MONTHS BREASTFEEDING EXCLUSIVELY

Three months compulsory maternity leave is slowly fading. Months have gone down to weeks, weeks to days. I am starting to get nervous, questions are piling up on my mind, Nitaachia nani mtoto wangu?(Who will I entrust my baby with?) Atakula nini? (What will she eat?) Sina mboch! (I do not have a house help) Will daycare accept my baby? She is still too young? Mungu Wangu!(My God).


So I have been exclusively breastfeeding my DD, (Darling Daughter), since birth. Reality has come knocking that I have two weeks remaining to report to work. Most of the times I used to be on the Internet and always googling on how to better my parenting skills through other parents' experiences. Then, I find a way to still give the baby breast milk while away on my official duties. It was simple. Expressing breast milk.

Photo Courtesy, Breast Pump

That same week, I, baby daddy, and DD, went to Nairobi's Biashara Street, (known for selling baby items, ranging from diapers to clothing to toys, name it, they have it) and purchased a manual breast pump and other baby necessities. In the evening I tried pumping and not even 10 ml came out. I was devastated. I thought I would pump at least 180 ml. So that night passed. The following day came. I needed a refrigerator. By that time, the cheapest one is around KES15,000. Where can I get such a huge amount of money at once. Nilikuwa nimesahau, ni mimi napata chama this round. But on the other hand, I have my baby in mind, luckily I manoeuvre and get that cash. #BabyTings.

The evening before I go to job, I haven't expressed enough for DD. So, I rush to the supermarket and get Nan, powdered milk meant for babies. By now, I am satisfied that when I am away, DD will be fine, she will only be missing me, the smell of my stained breast milk clothes.

THE BUMP

The Bump. My belly is slowly gaining weight. At about three to six months, it isn’t easily noticeable unless you give it a second look. I am so ready for it. I have close to five trench coats. Dress tops come in handy and tights too. I am very much afraid of questions from random people. How do you feel in there? Did you plan for it? Are you married? Where is your boyfriend? Were you raped?(A classmate, asked me so, I must say that I felt so disgusted) Why didn't you use protection?

Sometimes, some people go an extra mile to touch your belly. They even joke that the baby you are carrying will look like them. As if they look any good. So by now I no longer wear heels. I have stuck to my old school rubbers and maasai sandals, sometimes flat shoes but they irritate me a lot and makes my feet sweaty and swollen at times.

Long queues at the bus station are a story of the past. Nowadays, conductors are so much friendly with me. They joke that I am carrying one vote for Raila Odinga, which I bet would become a fulfilment at 2033 when Shun will be 18. Impossible... Raila will be 88. This might be possible, Zimbabwe’s Robert Mugabe is a sitting President and is 91 years. I don’t even know why am getting political.

 At the swimming pool, roughly 25 weeks pregnant

I must admit that Shun gave me the best time as a young mum. Every moment that she rested calm in my womb, kicked me out of anger or joy, I treasured them. 

I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS, LET'S SAY IT'S GOD

At times I get scared

Caring for a young one can be a monumental task, she cries, then you are left guessing, first if she is heavily dressed, you start taking off her clothes one by one only to realize she is raising her voice twice.

It is roughly an hour past midnight, the noisy neighbours have all turned off their music systems, Umoinner Buses are retiring to garages, some already I guess have been parked in Petrol Stations. Bars in the estate are fast in the mood. The Dj is playing Madilu System's Ya Jean.  It is Friday night. I am still on my maternity leave. Home alone.

Shun at three months and some days

Let us call my baby Shun, a short form for her name Shuneta. Shun continues crying. This time throwing her legs on the air. I light up the room and reach for Bonnisan. Bonnisan is a type of syrup given to babies to relieve gastrointestinal disorders i.e colic and gas. I measure 2.5 ml with my left hand while holding her with my right arm. I chant a song by Cedarmont kids, We are going to the mansion on a happy day express, the letters on the engine are J-E-S-U-S, it does not sink into her.

The tussle

Shun is a hater of medicine. She never wants even the smell of it. So I force it into her mouth and she vomits all of it. I believe and pray that the small amount that got into her stomach relieves whatever is aching her. Finally, I discover that all she wanted was a diaper change. It was soaked. For a whole 3 hours we have been tussling only to find out she only needed a diaper change. If only children spoke! God, why?

FIRST TIME MOTHER, IDEALESS, YET HAPPY

The month of April, 2014, was my lucky month. I got myself a job in a reputable small media company. I must confess this was my first serious job. It felt so good. At last, financial independence. In the past I had battled to get finances by doing casual jobs such as doing chores for people then getting some few coins to keep me going.

Bombshell. I tested positive for pregnancy. It was never an accident. Neither was it unplanned. I contemplated abortion. I went to the internet, read a lot of materials on safe abortion but I was not convinced enough to undertake the process. My inner self denied it. Lab results showed I was two weeks pregnant. I went into solitude for some time. However, I kept my smile alive and glowing. Therefore, no one would notice I was up to something mischievous.

As soon as I broke the news to my boyfriend, he was happy and insisted that I should keep the baby. Every evening he would either check on me or take me for a walk round the estate so as to brighten me up. 19 years of my life, I was pregnant. Until the fourth month, I did not let my friends know I was expecting a baby. I feared because one would advise me to do away with the foetus.

It felt so good to know I was expectant, yet at the same time it sent down a cold chill down to my spine. I created imagery on my mind, how I would pop out that child, not so fast, how I would cope with my growing belly.

April was the same month I thought of changing my hairstyle. 

AWWWWWW! THE JOYS OF MOTHERHOOD………… MILESTONES FROM CONCEPTION TO BIRTH AND POSTPARTUM

VOILA, WE MADE IT HERE

Hey peeps. I am super happy since I am making a great step towards reaching you out there. I dedicate this blog to all young mothers out there who are effortlessly working their butt off, burning candles on both ends to ensure that little someone in their lives is well fed and keeps smiling.

That said, I would like to welcome you to my new blog.