The Struggle of the First Time Mothers

 

For first-time

ftm

mothers, their attraction to the child is usually robust, such that breaking that bond is never easy. It even becomes an uphill task the first day after the maternal leave is over. While the child sleeps and wakes up with the mother, in most cases, the eyes are always glued on her in a bid to ensure that her territory is within the usual area of jurisdiction; the house. My wife was never spared either. Hers was a funny one. I recall when our daughter was four months old, my wife and I used to work online, and we thought we would take advantage of the fact that the toddler's favorite at that age was sleep, but we were wrong. She would sleep, but the moment we started working, our girl's sleep would come to a halt and demand the mother's attention. This meant that the whole task would then be thrown to me. Every time the mother defied the "rules" set by her, the computer would change hands, and the young boss would be the owner, and the typing and "research" shifts hands. We never complained, though. It was fun!! Haha.

The part that I presume many mothers usually struggle with came, and it was never easy. I am saying so because I saw the other two mothers face the same challenge in our plot. As a matter of fact, it is not only the mothers but the baby's parents. My wife was to report to work, and the child had to get used to spending the whole day with a new and strange face. The house manager, of course, was a good lady, and our daughter still sings her name to date. The struggle was in the moment of departure. My wife would tiptoe on her way out of the bedroom so that the young angel doesn't wake up and when she is awake, should scrawl such that the sofa hid her from our daughter, who at that time is very keen on the ongoing and the movements within the house. Even after her successful departure, the one remaining with the child was left with the task of flattering (for lack of a better word) the child and make her stop crying. Together with two other neighbors whose children were almost the age of my daughter, I faced the same challenge and would do the same when going to work. 

It reached a point where I got tired of the whole thing when our daughter cried with bitterness. I guess she did that every time we left, but since we were not there to experience it, our assumption was that the cry lasted for a few minutes. When I saw the girl's pain, we sat down with the mother and decided on one thing; to let our daughter know when we were leaving for work. The first day was not easy. She cried, but after a week, she was used to it. She knew that we were leaving and would be back in the evening. We resorted to telling her the truth, such that, every time anyone wanted to go somewhere, our daughter would be the first to know, then she would run and tell me, "dad mum anaenda tao. amesema ataniletea melon." She loves watermelon. As I write this, the girl just turned four years, and I was surprised when I saw her with her favorite handbag and when I asked her, "Ainsley unaenda wapi?" She replied, "Narudi," a common term that I always use when I take a walk.

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