Pregnancy, Phobias and the Joy of a New Born Baby!

My Phobia

Many of you must have been wondering where I have been. Well, I recently had a baby.

I never in a thousand years thought I would ever be a mother. For some reason, pregnancy and labour scared me shitless. It became a phobia that I nursed and allowed to get the best of me.

As a result, when I got married in 2015/2016, having a baby just wasn't in the books for me. I never thought I would be a mother. I thought I could never love a child more than I love myself, because for me, that was the only reason any lady should want to be a mother.

The Pregnancy

Early this year, when I discovered that I was pregnant, it was a battle for me. A battle between removing the foetus and keeping it. I just didn't feel ready. I needed to be emotionally ready to bring a child into the world and I just wasn't feeling ready.

At about 9 weeks, I decided to inform my parents because that was the only way I wasn't going to abort the foetus.

Weeks flew into months, I had the worst first trimester, spat all through the entire 10 months, vommited like there was no tomorrow, heartburn from beginning to end, the nausea was epic!

As the due date approached, I became very scared. I wondered about a lot of things... If I would die during childbirth, what the child would look like, if he would be deformed (well, I wasn't exactly faithful to my prenatal meds), I wondered how having a baby would affect my business.

At some point, I actually thought it was a calabash inside me, because I just could not bring myself to believe that a human was growing inside of me... 

But in all of this, one thing remained constant, I just wanted the baby to be fine even if it meant me not being fine. 

The Delivery

On the delivery day, I walked into the theatre thinking, this may be the end of me or the beginning of a beautiful new chapter in my life.

When the baby was born and the doctor asked me if I would like to carry my child, my reaction was, "Ewww, God no! Please have him cleaned up. Thank you."

I felt nothing! Then it hit me, I am a mother! I panicked! How did this happen? I never even thought I would ever keep a pregnancy let alone have a baby.

For the first two days, I was too tired and the scary part was, I felt no emotion whatsoever towards my baby. I was beginning to feel that something was wrong with me. I felt sad. It felt as if I wasn't capable of loving my own child.

The Healing

And then it changed! The nurse came in on the third day to take the baby's vitals and she had a worrisome look on her face. The way I jumped out of the bed was enough to tell me that somewhere deep down, this was love in its purest form.

The baby was fine apparently, I was the one that needed healing. I kept thinking what if something happened to my child, I won't forgive myself for not showing the poor baby some love.

And in that moment, I felt love like I have never felt before. It was an overwhelming feeling. 

That was the moment I got over my worst phobia. I would do this over again just to feel the way I feel now. Being able to love another more than you love yourself is the most selfless feeling in the world and I wont trade that for anything.

I love you baby Olamishile.

Motherhood: It's been a lonely and life changing road for me

Sigh.

I don't even know where to begin.

This past year of motherhood has taken something from me. I want to be honest about that... not because I don't love my son, but because I think too many women are suffering quietly behind a smile and a "I'm managing."

I am not always managing.

Some days I wonder if I am built for this. Not because I don't love him fiercely... but because society hands you a baby and simultaneously hands you an impossible standard. And then other women, the ones who should understand most, become the loudest critics. That part hurt more than I expected.

My first real battle was adjusting to a life I could no longer recognise as mine.

I still haven't fully figured it out.

No help. No village. Just me, running on almost no sleep, waking up to bathe him, bathe myself, cook, pack two bags, and show up to my business like I had a full night's rest. Every single day. And because I was exclusively breastfeeding and he refused a bottle, I carried him everywhere... long trips, work commitments, everything. My body was not my own. My time was not my own.

I am an entrepreneur. I built my life around freedom and intention. Losing control of my own schedule... not even being able to jump in the shower without planning it... broke something in me a little. I won't pretend otherwise.

My second battle was loneliness dressed up as being surrounded by people.

My husband tries. He genuinely does. But trying and being enough are not always the same thing. And what I needed... what I still need sometimes, is just someone to look me in the eye and say you are doing a great job today. Not once. Regularly. Because this job has no performance review, no salary, and no days off.

I stopped reaching out because it felt like no one would truly understand. My mother's generation was taught to carry it and keep moving. She had three of us and didn't complain. I know that. But silence is not strength. It is just silence.

And can we talk about the weight of it all for a moment?

We work. We build. We come home and we cook and clean and organise and nurture and hold everything together... and we are not supposed to be tired. We are not supposed to have hard days. We are not supposed to say this is too much.

But it is sometimes too much.

And saying that out loud does not make me a bad mother. It makes me an honest one.

I am still here. Still showing up. Still learning.

But I am also still human. And I needed to say that. 🤍