Gosh, one forgets just how tiny and perfect newborns are.
Esti Rose Naudé was born at 8.35am on Thursday, May 11 at a healthy 3.7kg, and was instantly adored by her Papa and two big brothers.
That’s large in comparison with my preemie second born but still, she feels so dinky in my arms.
You also forget how much they poo.
I’m calling her my Poonado (aka Poonami).
Thankfully, before they start solids, breastfed baby poo doesn’t smell bad at all. It is bright yellow though and like the nickname suggests, it’s explosive.
You must just make sure she’s really done before you change her nappy, or you could be the victim of a flying yellow missile.
I made that mistake once during a midnight nappy run and just missed being splattered (the wall and the curtain a metre away were not so lucky).
Thankfully, I have also managed to keep my pre-birth figure (hahaha), so strangers still ask me how far along I am…
In his innocence, the first thing my five-year-old asked me on the day of Esti’s birth was, ‘But why do you still look pregnant, Mummy?” I just hugged him and laughed.
But honestly, I’m not worried that my body isn’t bikini ready, now, or anytime soon. It’s done incredibly well, making a baby, and it deserves every chocolate croissant that I can serve it. Plus, I need to eat more than ever to keep up with this hungry milk monster.
The ‘imperfections’ in a mother’s body, the caesarean scar, the stretch marks, the saggy boobs, and the soft middle, these are the things society demands that we hide and encourages us to hate.
We shame our bodies for not living up to an Instagram worthy ideal of womanhood.
But these are our honour badges, the ‘scars of war’ as it were, that we should be proud to display.
I’m talking to myself here, too. I am far too quick to judge my body by an impossible standard.
These marks tell a story. They shout that I am mom to Daniël, Ruben and Esti. This is without a doubt my calling and my life’s greatest achievement.
At night, with Esti in the crook of one arm, when two golden heads seek out my lap for a lullaby and their warm bodies are pressed up against mine, even as my back complains, my heart overflows with gratitude to be called their mom.
Perfection is not the aim, life is.
***
That said, the first three weeks of being mom to Esti have been quite a rollercoaster ride.
We were lucky enough to have her delivered at Netcare Alberlito Hospital just a month or so before the doors close to the neonatal intensive care unit and maternity ward.
We liked it so much that we decided to go back for a week to get the complete experience (… said no one ever).
At two weeks old, Esti picked up a Staph skin infection and had to have a week of intravenous antibiotics. Thankfully, it was discovered early enough, so she continued to thrive, despite what could have been a life-threatening situation.
The staff in both the paediatric and maternity wards were outstanding. From the cleaners and the hostesses to the nurses and doctors, every person I met went out of their way to ensure we were well taken care of.
Over the past eight years, we’ve had our fair share of hospital visits with each of our three children, so I have gotten to know quite a few of the hospital staff, and they have never failed to impress me.
When I have compared notes with mothers who have visited other hospitals, Alberlito has always come out tops.
The staff are passionate about what they do and take great care of the children who come into their wards.
While I am grateful that they are keeping a small paediatric ward, the closing of these facilities remains a huge loss for the community.
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