3 Lessons: First Year of Motherhood

Motherhood, Career, Family: We can have it all!

2021 is wrapping up and so is my rookie year of motherhood. As I reflect on 2021, and my first year of motherhood I find myself reminiscing on the big lessons I’ve learned this year. 

Off the top of my head I can think of 20 unsolicited pieces of advice but I’ll just give you 3 for now.

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1: Independence costs 

It’s a common misconception that us broke islanders all live in the same house because we can’t afford otherwise. And while living together helps lessen the load financially, it’s not the only or even the main reason we do it. 

As Pasifka peoples, we are village people. We are built on the strong foundations of aiga & togetherness. We often all live together in one house because that’s just how we’re built. We quite simply aren’t built to live far from our loved ones. From the comfort of mum's kokolaisa or pahs funny jokes. Aunty’s gossiping in the lounge, cousins running around outside. When we think of home, that’s what we remember. 

So as a young Samoan couple from South Auckland, living on our own without any extended family was a bit scary and frankly - a little unnatural. But we were determined.

While David and I loved our independence, and having our own space. When the baby arrived, I often felt envious of new mums who had the luxury of living with their family.

More than ever I was missing my Mum, my grandad & even my little cousins I used to live with. Often wished I could still be living with them and my aunty n uncle. My aunty Nina was the one I turned to most with any mum questions. Having raised 5 of her own, and me too - I felt most safe around her. Like this new mum stuff wasn’t so scary, like I could actually do this!

They visited me often sure - but visits are different. Different from waking up to my mum walking in my room to open the curtains, different from walking into the kitchen to see Pah on the kitchen counter every day. Different from having my family around me constantly. Just their mere presence lessened the load. Even if they weren’t doing anything but watching tv around me and baby, it still eased my anxiety to know that someone else was in the vicinity.

So if you’re a new mum and are living at home with your family - you are blessed! Independence is cool, but so is your mental health. Don’t be in a rush to leave your village just yet. Let them awhi you through this new journey. Let them comfort you when it gets too much, teach you when you’re feeling lost. 

Being home alone with this new baby was scary, it was lonely, and like I said - it felt a little unnatural. I missed my village. But that’s what my ‘independence’ cost. 

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2. Fed is Best 

Growing up I always saw the women in my life breastfeed, my aunty who breastfed all 5 of her kids, my Nana who never failed to tell me how she breastfed all of hers. It was just a natural thing for Samoan mums top breastfeed. So when I fell pregnant, it was something I worried about. 

When I fell pregnant my Nana always just assumed I would breastfeed. I knew in myself that it would be a struggle for me because of the type of nipples I have. They’re flat - which is pretty self explanatory but here’s a photo for reference.

Despite this, I had hoped that the hormones during my pregnancy would change them enough to be able to breastfeed easily. I felt like everyone around me was breastfeeding, and of course there was a lot of pressure from my Nana especially to breastfeed him.

When I gave birth however, the real pressure hit. Because of my gestational diabetes, when my son was born his blood sugar levels were dangerously low. To fix this usually, they get the baby to feed to get their sugars up. But the first time I tried, there was just no latching whatsoever - so my nurses rushed to get an NG Tube into him so he could feed and get his sugars up.

My heart sank. I hated seeing him with a feeding tube and knowing it was my fault.

My brand new baby had been taken away from me, pricked and prodded. Then he had a tube put in. All because I couldn’t breastfeed.I felt like a failure. 

The coming days were equally stressful trying my best to get him to feed and feeling the pressure from the nurses, my nana, and even myself.

My Samoan Nana especially couldn’t comprehend why I couldn’t breastfeed. “What’s so hard about it? Just feed the kama….Breastmilk is the best thing for the kama” 

My nana had accepted a lot from me - from living with a boyfriend before we got married, to even getting pregnant, she didn’t bat an eye. But now I was trying to feed my child formula? God forbid! LOL

It took a lot of convincing, and repeated flashing of my boobs to show her that I quite literally - couldn’t. None of this was malicious on my nanas end, it’s just how she was raised. She grew up in Samoa, where everyone breastfed their babies. Bottle feeding back in her days just wasn’t done. On top of that, she was a breastfeeding beast herself! Was able to breastfeed all of her children.  But in the end she let up on the pressure with a simple “Eh, whatever then” 

Then there were the lactation nurses, every morning with their pamphlets and advice. The massaging techniques, the ice, the early morning wake up calls to pump some milk to stimulate my nipples. 

I’d be eating my breakfast and in she comes with yet another technique to try that day. Getting me to pump while I eat my toast, while another nurse takes my son's blood samples. Behind her yet another nurse was waiting her turn to test my son's ears. All the while, the woman's baby on the other side of my room is crying her head off. 

The kind Samoan lady who wheeled in her computer screen that looked like it was built in the old ages. Then proceeding to play me a 20 minute video on the importance of breastmilk and all the benefits of breastfeeding your bubba. 

The sad eyes and “Kalofae’s” when I explained my situation. The pats on the back when I had yet another failed latching session. 

It was too much. I cried a lot, overwhelmed, sore, and feeling like a failure. Wanting desperately to just go home and be left alone for just a few minutes. I felt like breastfeeding was being shoved down my throat and I was choking on all the pressure. 

It wasn’t until we had finally been given the all clear to go home, did I realise - my baby was okay. He was healthy, he was fed. Learned to drink from a bottle so he no longer needed a tube. His blood sugars were at a healthy level. He was okay!

Fed is best - and fed he was!

3: You’re allowed to keep doing things you love

As soon as I fell pregnant I knew immediately I wanted to spend at least his first year of life at home with him. Even though I am very much a career woman who loves to work, I was committed to giving my baby at least 1 year to be home with mama before starting any type of day care. 

I know a lot of mums go back to work after 7 months - around the time Maternity leave ends. But for me I just knew I needed more time with him, and because David worked so hard for us. I could. 

Be that as it may, I had never expected that by the time he was 6 weeks - I had already started to work from home. When my son was 6 weeks old myself and our Culture Factory / West Park team applied for funding for a series called BOUNCERS. 

This was my first time ever applying for funding, first time ever Producing a show - and I had just had a baby.

When my son was 4 months old - we found out we got the funding!So in between bottles, poos and burps - was zoom calls, meetings, storylining and writers tables.

Blessed as I am, I not only had a baby who loved to sleep but I also had my nana who came over every morning for those first couple months to help out with the baby.

I would work when he was sleeping and if I had a call that ran over time, she’d take the baby while I finished up. 

And because I’m a chronic over-committer - I also took other small jobs here and there on Tikilounge’s infamous Know Your Roots show, and helping out with social media etc. All things I could do from home and in between mum duties. 

When I tell people I worked so much during his first year of life - I often get negative responses. “Oh wow, that’s so unhealthy….I can’t believe you’re working still”

But the truth is, work and my bestmates who I work with, all kept me sane.

When the depression hit, and the panic attacks started. It was my work, and the people I worked with that helped to anchor me. Because I love what I do, and the people I do it with - when I felt like I was drowning, they were right there to offer support. 

My work gave me structure, something I could throw myself into when I felt a little bit lost in mum world. When I felt like I was failing as a mum at times. Being in constant contact with everyone too helped fight the numbing loneliness I felt in those first few weeks. When I couldn’t live with my family again, I could at least have constant adult connection everyday.

But most of all, it helped me keep a sense of who I am. Outside of Lj’s mum, Lj’s nappy changer, bottle feeder and keeper aliver-er. I was also Destiny, Producer, friend, and colleague. 

I read a lot about mum’s losing themselves in their babies, forgetting who they are, and becoming a shell of themselves. I was so so so lucky enough to not experience that because I had that support from my work family. 

Lastly, as busy as I was - I still had so much time for my baby. To play, make jelly, go to the park, to cook him gourmet meals 3 times a day IYKYK. The work I kept doing for myself didn't affect the kind of mother I was negatively. In fact, I would even go as far to say that it helped me be a better mother. Because my cup was full, and I could keep pouring into my baby.

So you’re allowed to have your own life mama! Allowed to keep doing things that make you feel like you! 

All in all, motherhood is a rollercoaster and no two rides are the same. 

There will be highs, and there will be lows - you just have to take it one day at a time.