pressure points
I've been trying very hard to mentally prepare myself for the changes that will come when Bao is born, particularly the emotional ones. The first couple of months after The Bun was born were like a rollercoaster - sometimes I felt like bursting with love and pride, at other times simply looking out of the window could trigger tears. I can't quite tell if I cried more than the average new mother, but I definitely wasn't myself for a long time. And after the crying jags slowed down, the rage came in. Emotionally, I only became more balanced after The Bun was more than a year old. On the outside I was more than coping, but on the inside I was still kind of messed up.
I'm really hoping it won't be so crazy this time round. I tell myself that I'm more experienced and more prepared, and that if I feel angry or confused or guilty or lost it won't be the end of the world, it will eventually pass. I've also been thinking about the different stresses that happened during my first confinement, and how perhaps if some things change, I won't feel more anxious and depressed than I already do.
1) Having a confinement nanny. The nanny herself wasn't the issue here - as far as nannies go, she was fine and took good care of The Bun and me, and backed off without nagging when I refused to comply with certain confinement superstitions/traditions. I am still glad I hired her because she taught me how to handle a newborn and gave me enough confidence to go it alone once the first month was over. The stress came from having a stranger at home. J and I feel very strongly about our privacy, to the extent that even if our siblings or parents asked to stay over, we would agree but still feel uncomfortable with their presence at home. I can remember the relief we both felt on the day the nanny left. She departed just before lunch and I know that we were just counting down the hours!
2) Breakdowns. On the first evening after I returned from the hospital, I was trying to have a nap before dinner when I heard a loud crack from the kitchen and everyone creating a loud fuss. Turns out our glass cooker hob exploded just as the nanny was trying to start dinner. I don't know why it chose that precise moment to explode, but at least no one was hurt (it was tempered safety glass). Then there was the scramble to find some way to enable us to cook at home, since that was the whole point of confinement and having a nanny, right? A couple of weeks later, our washing machine broke down, probably from overuse. J and I had to make a rush visit to the electronics store across the road to pick out a new machine. On hindsight these two incidents don't seem like much, but they definitely caused additional stress for us.
3) Too many women in the house. I have so little regard for traditional confinement practices because they seem so unscientific and based on hearsay. Although there are common points everyone agrees on, everyone also has a story or a rule to tell that some other auntie 'passed on' to them. My mother, for example, kept contradicting the nanny by telling her that a cleaning auntie at her workplace said that such-and-such a recipe/practice/method was the right way, etc. I sometimes had to jump in to mediate and it was hard to pick sides, especially when I didn't care for the whole confinement thing anyway. And it drove me crazy that just because of my mother had received advice from some random auntie, we had to follow this auntie's rules, and no one could verify that it was the right thing to do or not. Of course, if I pointed this out from my mother, I would get a lecture on not being respectful, or being too arrogant to accept 'facts', or having too much education but failing to see commonsense.
Even when my mother and the nanny weren't clashing on confinement practices, my mother would then take issue with the way the nanny cooked - how she was slow, how she kept the tap running all the time, how the way she cooked wasn't the 'right' or 'efficient' way etc. Even when she felt the nanny's food tasted good, she still found something to say about it - that it was because the nanny relied on using lots of oyster sauce, etc. She never criticised the nanny directly, but would complain quietly to me about it, so I felt uncomfortable and caught in the middle. I didn't care how the nanny cooked, as long as there was something to eat, but feeling my mother radiating disapproval each time she visited really gave me a lot of stress.
4) Too much advice. As a first-time mother-to-be, I readily welcomed any advice and tips from other mothers who had been there, done that. I lurked on the Singapore motherhood forums to see what other mothers were doing or stressing about. Their advice helped me prepare for what to expect when the baby was born (very invaluable), but it also made me expect too much of myself. Somehow I had got it into my head that these mothers, who all seemed to be managing life with their kids so well, were doing the 'right' thing and that I had to do what they did in order to get on the 'right' path too. I didn't have the experience or the strength of character to try to find my own way through the fog of new motherhood - I just wanted to do what everyone else seemed to be doing, whether it was breastfeeding (and loving it, instead of loathing it, as I found to my horror and guilt) or getting the baby to sleep without strangling it, or even something that seemed so instinctive, like loving every moment with the baby. Instead I felt emotions like grief, anger, resentment and of course, guilt, mixed in with the feelings of deep awe and love that a baby brings. No one else seemed to be angry or sad or even unusually emotional; everyone complained, of course, about the sleep deprivation and the physical pain and exhaustion but they also seemed so full of love and happy, and that was something that felt very alien to me at the time and contributed even more to the guilt I felt then. All this added to the overall everything-is-wrong feel that threatened to overwhelm me many times. I generally coped quite well with caring for The Bun and keeping the household running, because these were concrete tasks that could be accomplished, but emotionally, I struggled.
__________________
I'm hoping very hard I have more emotional strength and more confidence in myself to weather the chaos this time round. The game has changed, anyway - now there is The Bun, aged three going on thirteen accompanied by plenty of whininess, demands, and rollercoaster emotions of his own to manage as well.
We're not hiring a confinement nanny this time. My mother will help with the cooking and we'll also be ordering tingkat meals, which, while not the healthiest option, at least takes off some of the pressure revolving around the constant cooking. I predict clashes with her, as she tends to feel that cooking and cleanup should be done in certain specific, time-consuming ways, when my priority will be as simple as having a full stomach. The method of cooking, the efficiency of the cookware, and the presentation of the food are the least of my concerns. I have told my mother this, and she understands this on a rational level, but I know that when she steps into my kitchen she will still feel the urge to rearrange things, to bring in her 'better' set of cookware, to clean the place because I never do it right, etc. I don't want her to do more than she should but she tends to read any objection as a challenge to her expertise and experience, and if I criticise her then I am being ungrateful and unappreciative. We'll just have to see who can hold her tongue better; her help is invaluable for sure, but I have limits, too. At least this time I don't have to mediate between her and the nanny.
I've already told my parents and the in-laws that the best help they can give is keeping The Bun occupied and entertained. He will probably be clingier to me than ever before, but if he can be pried off my ankles then that would give me opportunities to rest and properly care for Bao. I know that when the older folks come, it means that the television will be turned on way more than I'd like. It's not so much the watching of TV that I object to; it's just the constant noise and hubbub that comes with it. I'm so used to a quiet home with just the radio on, and The Bun creates enough sound and fury on his own as it is. My father will be huffy about it - he's one of those people who need to have the TV on for background noise all the time, and he finds it impossible to look after The Bun without sticking him in front of the TV. I'll need to compromise, somehow, and draw some boundaries about visitors and when they come and how long they stay. I remember how my mother-in-law kept trying to watch me breastfeed The Bun just to see 'if he sucked' and at that point I was still too polite and nice to tell everyone to go away.
For this pregnancy I've avoided all the local parenting forums completely; I don't even lurk. No one really offers much advice either the second time round, because they assume you already know it all, which is untrue but at least this time I know what sort of questions to ask and more importantly, who to ask, especially for support. I don't want to compare myself with others even though the temptation will be there. Maybe it's time to take another hiatus off Facebook again and avoid all the unsolicited advice and inevitable comparisons.
J remembers the dark days as well. I told him that I want to get out of the overachiever mindset. I don't want to 'do my best' and I don't want to feel guilty about it, either. Instead, I will try to prioritise my sanity and happiness. If anything from my experience with The Bun, I learned the truth behind that old adage that 'a good mother is a happy one' and it will be the most important thing I can do for my children, to be happy and enjoying their existence, instead pressuring myself to be the 'best' mother, whatever that may be.
I'm really hoping it won't be so crazy this time round. I tell myself that I'm more experienced and more prepared, and that if I feel angry or confused or guilty or lost it won't be the end of the world, it will eventually pass. I've also been thinking about the different stresses that happened during my first confinement, and how perhaps if some things change, I won't feel more anxious and depressed than I already do.
1) Having a confinement nanny. The nanny herself wasn't the issue here - as far as nannies go, she was fine and took good care of The Bun and me, and backed off without nagging when I refused to comply with certain confinement superstitions/traditions. I am still glad I hired her because she taught me how to handle a newborn and gave me enough confidence to go it alone once the first month was over. The stress came from having a stranger at home. J and I feel very strongly about our privacy, to the extent that even if our siblings or parents asked to stay over, we would agree but still feel uncomfortable with their presence at home. I can remember the relief we both felt on the day the nanny left. She departed just before lunch and I know that we were just counting down the hours!
2) Breakdowns. On the first evening after I returned from the hospital, I was trying to have a nap before dinner when I heard a loud crack from the kitchen and everyone creating a loud fuss. Turns out our glass cooker hob exploded just as the nanny was trying to start dinner. I don't know why it chose that precise moment to explode, but at least no one was hurt (it was tempered safety glass). Then there was the scramble to find some way to enable us to cook at home, since that was the whole point of confinement and having a nanny, right? A couple of weeks later, our washing machine broke down, probably from overuse. J and I had to make a rush visit to the electronics store across the road to pick out a new machine. On hindsight these two incidents don't seem like much, but they definitely caused additional stress for us.
3) Too many women in the house. I have so little regard for traditional confinement practices because they seem so unscientific and based on hearsay. Although there are common points everyone agrees on, everyone also has a story or a rule to tell that some other auntie 'passed on' to them. My mother, for example, kept contradicting the nanny by telling her that a cleaning auntie at her workplace said that such-and-such a recipe/practice/method was the right way, etc. I sometimes had to jump in to mediate and it was hard to pick sides, especially when I didn't care for the whole confinement thing anyway. And it drove me crazy that just because of my mother had received advice from some random auntie, we had to follow this auntie's rules, and no one could verify that it was the right thing to do or not. Of course, if I pointed this out from my mother, I would get a lecture on not being respectful, or being too arrogant to accept 'facts', or having too much education but failing to see commonsense.
Even when my mother and the nanny weren't clashing on confinement practices, my mother would then take issue with the way the nanny cooked - how she was slow, how she kept the tap running all the time, how the way she cooked wasn't the 'right' or 'efficient' way etc. Even when she felt the nanny's food tasted good, she still found something to say about it - that it was because the nanny relied on using lots of oyster sauce, etc. She never criticised the nanny directly, but would complain quietly to me about it, so I felt uncomfortable and caught in the middle. I didn't care how the nanny cooked, as long as there was something to eat, but feeling my mother radiating disapproval each time she visited really gave me a lot of stress.
4) Too much advice. As a first-time mother-to-be, I readily welcomed any advice and tips from other mothers who had been there, done that. I lurked on the Singapore motherhood forums to see what other mothers were doing or stressing about. Their advice helped me prepare for what to expect when the baby was born (very invaluable), but it also made me expect too much of myself. Somehow I had got it into my head that these mothers, who all seemed to be managing life with their kids so well, were doing the 'right' thing and that I had to do what they did in order to get on the 'right' path too. I didn't have the experience or the strength of character to try to find my own way through the fog of new motherhood - I just wanted to do what everyone else seemed to be doing, whether it was breastfeeding (and loving it, instead of loathing it, as I found to my horror and guilt) or getting the baby to sleep without strangling it, or even something that seemed so instinctive, like loving every moment with the baby. Instead I felt emotions like grief, anger, resentment and of course, guilt, mixed in with the feelings of deep awe and love that a baby brings. No one else seemed to be angry or sad or even unusually emotional; everyone complained, of course, about the sleep deprivation and the physical pain and exhaustion but they also seemed so full of love and happy, and that was something that felt very alien to me at the time and contributed even more to the guilt I felt then. All this added to the overall everything-is-wrong feel that threatened to overwhelm me many times. I generally coped quite well with caring for The Bun and keeping the household running, because these were concrete tasks that could be accomplished, but emotionally, I struggled.
__________________
I'm hoping very hard I have more emotional strength and more confidence in myself to weather the chaos this time round. The game has changed, anyway - now there is The Bun, aged three going on thirteen accompanied by plenty of whininess, demands, and rollercoaster emotions of his own to manage as well.
We're not hiring a confinement nanny this time. My mother will help with the cooking and we'll also be ordering tingkat meals, which, while not the healthiest option, at least takes off some of the pressure revolving around the constant cooking. I predict clashes with her, as she tends to feel that cooking and cleanup should be done in certain specific, time-consuming ways, when my priority will be as simple as having a full stomach. The method of cooking, the efficiency of the cookware, and the presentation of the food are the least of my concerns. I have told my mother this, and she understands this on a rational level, but I know that when she steps into my kitchen she will still feel the urge to rearrange things, to bring in her 'better' set of cookware, to clean the place because I never do it right, etc. I don't want her to do more than she should but she tends to read any objection as a challenge to her expertise and experience, and if I criticise her then I am being ungrateful and unappreciative. We'll just have to see who can hold her tongue better; her help is invaluable for sure, but I have limits, too. At least this time I don't have to mediate between her and the nanny.
I've already told my parents and the in-laws that the best help they can give is keeping The Bun occupied and entertained. He will probably be clingier to me than ever before, but if he can be pried off my ankles then that would give me opportunities to rest and properly care for Bao. I know that when the older folks come, it means that the television will be turned on way more than I'd like. It's not so much the watching of TV that I object to; it's just the constant noise and hubbub that comes with it. I'm so used to a quiet home with just the radio on, and The Bun creates enough sound and fury on his own as it is. My father will be huffy about it - he's one of those people who need to have the TV on for background noise all the time, and he finds it impossible to look after The Bun without sticking him in front of the TV. I'll need to compromise, somehow, and draw some boundaries about visitors and when they come and how long they stay. I remember how my mother-in-law kept trying to watch me breastfeed The Bun just to see 'if he sucked' and at that point I was still too polite and nice to tell everyone to go away.
For this pregnancy I've avoided all the local parenting forums completely; I don't even lurk. No one really offers much advice either the second time round, because they assume you already know it all, which is untrue but at least this time I know what sort of questions to ask and more importantly, who to ask, especially for support. I don't want to compare myself with others even though the temptation will be there. Maybe it's time to take another hiatus off Facebook again and avoid all the unsolicited advice and inevitable comparisons.
J remembers the dark days as well. I told him that I want to get out of the overachiever mindset. I don't want to 'do my best' and I don't want to feel guilty about it, either. Instead, I will try to prioritise my sanity and happiness. If anything from my experience with The Bun, I learned the truth behind that old adage that 'a good mother is a happy one' and it will be the most important thing I can do for my children, to be happy and enjoying their existence, instead pressuring myself to be the 'best' mother, whatever that may be.