by Mirnalini Venkatraman
About this time last year, I was thirty-eight weeks pregnant and I knew I was going to deliver the next day. Today, I am back to being a full-time working woman who also happens to be a mother who exclusively breastfeeds. This is a short account of my journey of birthing, breastfeeding and getting back to work, and what I’d like to tell myself if I could go back in time.
The birthing
I had an elective C-section, and although it was ‘elective’, I was least prepared for it. In my thirty-sixth week of pregnancy, I was told that my baby had breached and needed to be delivered through a C-section procedure. I did not expect this to happen. Actually, I confess: I did not want this to happen to me. Why? Was it because I was scared of the OT? Was it the worry about not being able to recover fast? Maybe. The truth, though? It was shame.
‘Oh, are you scared of the pain of a “normal” delivery?’ ‘C-Section only no, it’s painless. I was into labour for twelve hours and still didn’t take an epidural… a female body can cope with anything!’ ‘C-section? It has so many consequences!’ I heard these from women who are dear to me. I know they were sharing their experiences and concerns and did mean good but such statements trigger different feelings and emotions in different people, especially when one is expecting.
Has my body failed me? Am I not going to experience ‘labour’? Am I going to suffer for life? Is my recovery going to be painful and slow?
The two weeks before my delivery, which I had hoped to spend relaxing, reading, cooking and eating, were extremely worrisome, with these questions constantly swimming in my mind. I cried. I tried every exercise possible. I pleaded with every known and unknown force but nothing changed: I still felt the head of my baby on the side of my tummy. Sigh! Little did I know that nothing changes destiny.
I don’t know if it was enlightenment or just the passing of time, but I am in a better place now. A year down the line, does it matter that I had a C-section? No. But did it matter immediately after my delivery? Hell, yes! The first few hours after the surgery I didn’t feel any pain – hail epidural – but once its effect wore off, I felt the worst pain. Pain in my shoulders and legs, pain from the surgery. I created such a scene that I was given another dose of painkillers. There isn’t a single picture of me with my baby on the first day – in fact not for the first few weeks, because I was so busy feeling pain and cursing myself that I actually forgot what was important. I forgot to focus on my baby, to admire those tiny fingers, cute yawns, the cosiness of a newborn. I was so shattered by shame and guilt that someone had to help me bathe, change, sit and get up that I literally ignored how beautiful my baby boy is!
The glorification of labour, its stages, the ‘beauty’ of the female anatomy, how ‘well designed’ it is for ‘natural’ birth and how ‘easily’ we women recover after delivery – these are ideas that were sold to me. And when I expected my own body to do a miracle, it failed. I went on a guilt trip, disliking myself and blaming everything and everybody.
Breastfeeding and beyond
In the pre-birth days, with all my focus on trying to ‘turn’ my baby, I forgot to read about breastfeeding and latching techniques. I neglected to prepare myself for the initial uneasiness. My baby was tiny – I blamed myself for that too – and he had difficulty latching. I had engorgement which did not at all help with the breastfeeding.
But my friend H, my mum, sister, and my husband were super proactive and gave me excellent tips and took great care of me and the baby through our initial struggles, so this was one issue that was better managed. But I was lucky, for the world is cruel to mothers who can’t breastfeed. If I thought C-section shaming was terrible, the formula shaming group is even worse! One is made to feel completely unworthy of being a mom. They are treated like they are doing a disservice to humanity and the baby. In effect, the mother, who is human, is completely ignored. Empathy, I have learnt, is a very rare trait.
‘Your child fell sick again? It’s all because you didn’t exclusively breastfeed.’ I am very pro breastfeeding, it has helped me and my baby, and I agree it’s convenient. But can we please stop shaming and guilt-tripping mothers who can’t breastfeed? I noticed another pattern, which is that men actually think they know way more about childbirth, breastfeeding and raising a child, especially one that is not theirs! I have had random men advising on how a woman should breastfeed her baby up to two years or more and about how diapers cause cancer and traditional nappies are better! I wonder if these men ever changed their child’s nappies… maybe the women they advise should ask the next time!
Getting back to work as a mother
I had six months of maternity break, and I’m glad I did but I was waiting to get back to work. Every time I say this, though, a voice inside my head automatically goes ‘I love my baby but…’. Although I understand that it reflects years of conditioning and that it’s going to take time for us to stop adding the ‘but’ and the ‘if’, it would be a lot easier if the people around didn’t egg you on.
I come from a family where women have been working almost all of their adult lives. My mum, all my aunts and sisters have, so I always knew I was going to get back to work after my maternity break. I am very passionate about the work I do. The money that comes from it has helped elevate my family and support my economic independence, which to me is vital. I am married to someone who values what I do, motivates me to carry on.
I’m lucky to have an excellent support system, an encouraging workplace and willing caregivers, and still I rush home worrying if I get late. That random aunty who asks me on the way ‘Oh, you are late today?’ does bother me. The paediatrician asks ‘Can’t you stay at home for a year, at least? Is this your baby or does it belong to your workplace?’ I work some Saturdays and I have had a friendly neighbour ask me, ‘Oh, but when do you spend time with your baby?’ It did, and still does, trigger a slight guilt inside me. These are the times I think about and thank my mother who worked for thirty-six years of her life, without whose financial contribution my sister and I wouldn’t be where we are today.
I still have a long way to go in accepting myself, and society doesn’t make it any easier. Despite my awareness about social conditioning of women and mothers, I struggle on and off with guilt when I cannot do what is ‘naturally’ expected of mothers. But it’s getting somewhat easier with time. Now I know that I cannot shed the however many extra kilos I gained due to childbirth in a year or even two. I know that I’m not going to win the best mother contest because I now know there isn’t one… or rather I know that everyone is a winner!
At times, I wish that I could go back in time to the two weeks before my delivery and the first few weeks after the baby was born. I’d tell myself to
Stop fretting.
Read about breastfeeding.
Sleep.
Get a spa.
Cook and bake.
And more than anything, smile more, be grateful for the support and hold on to my loved ones even closer.
