January moments

January 13, 2013 § Leave a comment

– At QVB the other day, a lady tapped me on the shoulder and directed me to another lift in a corner, after observing that Abi and I had missed the high-traffic one in the middle of the floor.

– My friend Ashley came over and stayed to talk to me for 30 minutes.

– My brother and Marina babysat Abi for 4 hours while I went to watch The Hobbit, and afterwards invited me to stay for dinner.


Gratitude Catalog

January 13, 2013 § Leave a comment

This year I’m going to try to record moments of happiness.

On a high

October 9, 2012 § Leave a comment

This is going to sound really cheesy, stupid, and sentimental, but having a baby has saved me. Just over a year ago, I felt lost, confused, and it seemed like my life was going nowhere. I worked, made good money, had close friends, but every morning I felt empty. At first I thought I was depressed, so I went to see a psychologist. I later realized it was because, at that time, I had surrounded myself with a complete jerk, who brought me down, and down very low. I’ve mentioned this before, but it helps to tell myself again. Soon after, a quick chain of events led to becoming pregnant by accident (not by afore-mentioned jerk, thankfully), and now, looking after a 5-month old on my own. I thought it would be harder, but it’s not. Her smiles in the morning make my heart burst. My life makes complete sense now. Nothing else matters. My daughter will be reading this in the future, so, my baby girl, when you’re old enough to read and understand this, you saved me. So, thank you.


October 3, 2012 § Leave a comment

Long before my daughter was born, I prepared myself, for the sleepless nights.

She slept through the night from 6 weeks old, and still does. I sleep better now than before she was born.

I prepared myself, for the fussing and crying, and the mental exhaustion.

She hardly fusses, cries very little, and is easily soothed by some milk, sleep, and cuddles.

I prepared myself, for the lack of time to do anything, such as showering and eating.

She is so well-behaved, I have time to shower, put make-up on, clean, and cook. With no external help.

What I wasn’t prepared for, was the enormous amount of love I never knew I had for one tiny human being.

The two of us

September 6, 2012 § Leave a comment

Last week, I was lamenting to my cousin that there wasn’t a large online community for single parents, so she suggested that I write something for her blog, which I’m re-posting here:

If someone asked me this time last year, what my life would be like just one year later, I would never have answered ‘I’m going to be a single mother’. Like many professional women in their thirties, I’ve let other experiences come first: career, travelling, having fun while I had no commitments. Having children was something I wanted to do eventually, but with the end of a toxic relationship at 32 and disillusioned with dating in general, that prospect seemed far away.

One fine day, I met someone. He was only in town for a few days, but we became infatuated with each other immediately. As a result, we were careless, and a few weeks after he left, I discovered what I thought would never happen for me: I was pregnant. I knew I wanted to keep the baby.

He was in the US military, lived a life of transience, and thought there would be no future for us. Heartbroken, I told him I would expect nothing from him, and went through 9 months of pregnancy alone. Despite bouts of loneliness and doubt, I enjoyed my pregnancy, even though I was often the only one by myself at every ultrasound and doctor’s appointment. As every pregnant woman knows, there are days filled with worry, and there are days filled with excitement. Even though physically I had no one to share those days with, I continued e-mailing him updates and pictures whether he wanted them or not. Sometimes he was interested, sometimes he was indifferent.

Motherhood has been a profound experience, but being a single mother with a newborn baby has also been demanding physically and mentally. The hardest part is doing everything on my own, with no partner or family to offer support or share responsibility with. Unlike many new mothers who get time off to enjoy their baby, I have to take care of income, household chores, and her, shortly after giving birth. The best part about all that stress though, is that I lost all my baby weight in weeks. I can say that I’m in excellent shape!

I don’t know yet if I’ll be a good parent, or a lousy one. Most of the time I really have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m managing, so far. It’s the most challenging thing I’ve ever done in my life, and also the most rewarding.

Still, I think often about her relationship with her father, who, currently deployed somewhere, she has yet to meet. She is now 4 months old, and I don’t know how old she will be by the time they do eventually meet. My vision of that day, when it does arrive, is that he will fall in love with her as I have, the days will get better, and everything will fall into place. That’s all I can hope for myself, and my daughter. Till then, the future will always remain uncertain.

At least my life isn’t boring.

Letter 1

July 22, 2012 § 2 Comments

Dear daughter,

I’m posting this here because Google won’t let me create an account for you and send you an letter. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write something. There’s so much I want to tell you. So I wanted to record this somewhere, and this was the only place. Right now it’s just after 9pm, and you’re fast asleep as usual, without any fuss, and you’ll wake up at 5am to be fed. You’re only 12 weeks old, and sleeping by yourself just kind of happened after you turned 6 weeks old. You’re already so independent.

Anyway, I’ve been watching episodes and episodes of Californication. If you turn out to be anything like me, it’s a show you’ll probably love. In one episode, Hank Moody wrote a letter to his daughter, parts of of which I wanted to share with you. It kind of describes how I would like your father to think, sometimes.

Here’s a portion of it, some of which I can relate to, also.

You smelled nice, most of the time, but you didn’t seem to have much interest in me, which I of course found vaguely insulting. It was just you and your mom against the world. Funny how some things never change. So I cruised along, acting the fool, not really understanding how being a parent changes you. And I don’t remember the exact moment everything changed. I just know that it did. One minute I was impenetrable, nothing could touch me. The next my heart was somehow beating outside my chest, exposed to the elements. Loving you has been the most profound, intense, painful experience of my life. In fact, it’s been almost too much to bear.

I hope you appreciate the content as much as I did.

Your mother

Happy Mother’s Day

May 13, 2012 § 2 Comments

It’s my very first Mother’s Day, barely 3 weeks since I had my daughter. The actual day of my scheduled Caesarean now seems strangely distant already. I do remember being scared, emotional, and drugged up. With all the morphine pumping through my veins the entire day, these are the bits of conversation I had with the myriad of medical staff to distract me from the fact that my uterus was being cut open so a human being could be extracted from my body.

– Tell me a story about each of your 8 children.
– Has anyone watched The Hunger Games?
– I learnt many military terms from Battlestar Galactica.
– Space cookies made me paranoid.
– That’s a pegasus.

And after all that, here she is, in a milk coma following a night feed.