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[ Osor Pertin Lego ]<\/strong><\/p>\n \n I thought I was ready – ready because I had helped take care of my niece. I knew how to feed her, change diapers, and rock her to sleep. After all, babies only eat, poop, and sleep, right? I thought I was ready emotionally, mentally, financially, and socially. I had a supportive family, a loving and understanding husband. I thought I had everything in place.<\/p>\n And then, on 14 June, 2024, I held you in my arms for the first time.<\/p>\n The first three days, you slept like an angel. I thought, “This is it. This is what motherhood feels like.” But I realize now, you were just resting\u2026 for the storm ahead.<\/p>\n What followed was weeks of non-stop crying. “All babies cry,” I told myself, but deep down, I knew something wasn’t right. The doctor said it was colic. Gas, they said. But those endless nights, the wailing, the sleepless hours – it felt like something far more exhausting than just gas.<\/p>\n I rocked you, hummed lullabies, and paced the room. Every short nap came with the dread of your next cry. I was anxious all the time. I couldn’t relax. Not even when you slept peacefully, because I was bracing for the next breakdown.<\/p>\n Even the things that once brought me joy – my pets, familiar footsteps in the house, visiting relatives -began to make me anxious. Would they wake you? Would they see you crying? Would they judge me as a mother?<\/p>\n You refused to breastfeed and preferred the bottle. But everywhere I turned, the pressure was to breastfeed. “It’s best for your baby,” they said. I wanted to give you the best, too. Your refusal to breastfeed made me feel like a failure as a mother. With bottle feeding came the problem of gas. Every formula change, every bottle switch – it didn’t ease your pain, or mine.<\/p>\n My stitches hadn’t even healed, but there I was, climbing stairs at night with a crying baby, desperate to bring you some relief. I began to fear you. Your cries felt like rejections. And someone even said, “He feels your anxiety, that’s why he cries more.”<\/p>\n Eventually, my cousin, calm and experienced, stepped in to soothe you. That brought relief\u2026 and guilt. Was I not enough?<\/p>\n Every time you cried, I cried. All the joy and excitement I had felt about motherhood began to drain away.<\/p>\n The pressure to breastfeed. The colic. The constant chores – sterilizing, laundry, cleaning, and surviving on no sleep. The guilt from snapping at my husband and my mother, the only people I could truly be vulnerable with. I felt so alone, even in a house full of people.<\/p>\n But slowly, I began to open up to other mothers. Talking to my cousins, hearing their postpartum stories – it made me feel less alone. They told me, “This too shall pass.”<\/p>\n And it did. Time that once crawled began to fly.<\/p>\n Do you still cry? Yes. Sometimes over the tiniest things. Like that time, you fell off the bed – you cried like the world had ended. But I guess you’re just like me – a crybaby.<\/p>\n You don’t like meeting new people, you don’t like being touched, you need your space. And I’ve learned – this is just how you are. Not because I spoiled you. This is how you were born.<\/p>\n That acceptance changed everything. It brought peace.<\/p>\n Today, you are my little koala bear – clinging to me wherever I go. Yai calls you “Ai’s bubble gum.” In a house full of ten people, you still choose to be glued to me. And I cherish it. Because I know one day you’ll let go, seeking your father’s arms and the world outside.<\/p>\n So, I hold you close. I’ll carry you a little longer. I love you a little deeper.<\/p>\n And now, as I look back, I feel I can handle any baby. But am I truly ready again? Maybe not. Every child is different, and so is every mother’s journey. Not every woman will experience postpartum like I did.<\/p>\n To the mothers-to-be: don’t stress. There is no perfect way. You will find your own. Just like I did.Motherhood is a wild, wonderful, soul-shaping ride.<\/p>\n Happy first birthday, my son. You made me a mother. Love you.<\/p>\n Your Ai<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" [ Osor Pertin Lego ] I thought I was ready – ready because I had helped take care of my niece. I knew how to feed her, change diapers, and rock her to sleep. After all, babies only eat, poop, and sleep, right? I thought I was ready emotionally, mentally, financially, and socially. I had […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-265577","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-state-news"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/arunachaltimes.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/265577","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/arunachaltimes.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/arunachaltimes.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/arunachaltimes.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/arunachaltimes.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=265577"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/arunachaltimes.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/265577\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/arunachaltimes.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=265577"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/arunachaltimes.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=265577"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/arunachaltimes.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=265577"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}