I still vividly remember that it was Sunday morning 0200hrs. Hubby and I were watching some HK drama before it happened. After the late-night show, we went to sleep. However, I could not sleep. It has been like that for a while, ever since I got into the 30th week of pregnancy. While I was turning and tossing, I suddenly felt a warm gush of liquid coming out from between my legs. I jumped (according to Hubby) out of bed, ran to the bathroom and saw this pinkish liquid flowing out non-stop. It was week 38.

Being a mother is one of the hardest thing in life I have experienced. And I thought I was well-prepared.

I am the eldest in my family. My youngest sibling is 12 years apart from me. I took care of her like she was my own ever since she was born. My parents were working hard then, and many times I am her sole care-giver. Hence, how hard can it be to take care of a baby?

I was very wrong. My 16-hour delivery process traumatised me. From Sunday 0200hrs till the rest of the day, I was not able to eat or drink due to epdiural. I kept vomitting for that 16 hours, non-stop. My only console is that Hubby was right beside throughout, holding the vomit pan for me. Yet thanks to epidural, I was not in great pain. I experienced contractions before I was given epidural, hence I know how bad the pain is.

The delivery left me weak, tired and very very hungry. At one point of the delivery, I called to my mother crying because I was too hungry. When my little man came out, the nurse asked if I wanted to hold him. I rejected. I was not in the right state, physically and emotionally then. This is probably one of my greatest regret. Having said that, I would probably make that same decision should the entire scenario replay.

Pain set in right after the delivery. I cannot stop tearing when the nurses cleaned me up and brought me to the ward. My family was there waiting for me. I spoke to them as per normal, but still I couldn’t stop tearing. When they left, Hubby went to sleep, and I was all alone on the bed, I started crying softly to myself. I do not know why. Maybe it’s the pain. Maybe I am really hungry. That’s when I realised post-natal depression has sinked in. I eventually got better after a good breakfast the next day, and great family and Hubby support.

Despite what others may say, my appreciation for my little man does not come in from Day 1 (the day he was born). And I thought I was a bad mother. However, after sharing with some friends who are also mothers themselves, I understand that I am not the only one who went through this emotional rollarcoaster. Gradually, I settled into my role of being a Mama, loving and caring for this little being who changed my life.

Now I can proudly declare that I love my little man.

My love for him surpasses many things, things I never thought I can sacrifice.

So if you are reading this, my little 宝贝, Mama loves you very very much. (So does Papa.)