Giving birth somewhere in Europe...

As my days wane by, I can't help thinking about all those women who have lost their infants at birth or the men who lost both infant and mother during delivery. Margaret Kenyatta is an opportunist, a productive opportunist since what she is doing now with the #beyondzero campaign, is something that she could have done even before the husband became influential. That does not mean I don't applaud her efforts, not that it's going to change anything. She is using her position as a First Lady to collect funds in order to put right what the government has failed to. Never mind that it is its duty to ensure that the health system is apt enough for the population.

I am scheduled for a Caesarian, and thinking about how medicalised even natural birth is in the West for damage contro,l and trying to compare that with what's taking place in Kenya just leaves a lot to be desired.

There's the doctor -the gynecologist without whom nothing much can take place. One has to be always present or on stand-by just incase.

A nurse does the bulk of the work. He/she executes the gynaes orders and is the one who is mostly present after the procedure has long been done. She'll make the follow-ups and updates the gynae who'll just come to check that everything's okey.

There's the midwife, who works under the nurse. The midwife will know everything about the patient. He/she reports to the nurse and the gynae. The midwife veils on the wellbeing of the mother. Asks whether there'll be help in the house, does the house-rounds upon return to ensure that everything is okey.

Then there's the puéricultrice, who takes duly care of the infant from birth, teaches you how to wash it, follows up on the first injections etcetera. Ensures that the feeding is going on well, that the baby has all that it needs etcetera.

Then there's auxiliaire de vie. This lady is there to maintain cleanliness of the patient. Changes the beddings, the pads, wipes the patient, etcetera.

Then there'll be the cleaning lady who ensures that the room is impeccably clean.

Last, I guess there's the one who serves meals. 

I don't have all the details as my first birth was planned to be natural and all over sudden we had to undergo a CS.

And just incase anything goes wrong and there's death (which is inevitable), there'll be conselling. Tonnes of counselling session! A couple is never left to their own devices as is the case in Kenya. And it is for this reason that #istandwithmamanjeri - You can click on the link to watch the video and get the concept.

https://youtu.be/6BXEEzu1KdU #istandwithmamanjeri

Reflections, Nostalgia and Changes...

Nostalgia is a good feeling, makes one reflect on what's going on around them. In my case, it doesn't make me wish for what I had in the past as I always choose to live in the present. It only makes me realize how much people do change, or even reveals other hidden characteristics that aren't really positive or motivating. It could be my personality or just who I am but I've always thought and noticed everyone or most people around me change as I try to remain the same until their influence runs on me and I fit into whom they've become. So I change too so just to fit in their context.

When I was single, i tried to keep in touch, mostly with family, my close-knit and even virtual friends. When I migrated, I continued to keep in touch. When I met the bf and got into a relationship, I continued to keep in touch. When I got my first child, I still continued to keep in touch. I wasn't struggling, I just felt it was important, limit imperative to! I called, I sent postcards, we created home-made cards with the daughter and sent them, I sent money, I was all over the place because that's how I felt things were supposed to be done. So recently, a few months ago, during one of my reflection moments, I decided to stop. I won't get into details under what circumstances, but I just decided to stop! 

And then you realize that wow, no one really bothers! No calls, no texts, no goodwill messages. Not that I was expecting that in return, but I just realized that things were not balanced. So I decided to stop! Stop giving handouts, stop sending those post and home-made cards, stopped calling, stopped sending messages apart from on a need to basis. In short, i just stopped giving a damn.

I still send post-cards and make cards with my daughter to send to those pals and family members who remember to replicate. Fortunately such kind of people do exist! The kind of people who choose to have a life besides social media. That person who will still call to wish you a happy birthday without a reminder from FB. That person who even shocks you by remembering your daughter's birthday and either sends a card or call. That person who'll just stop by to say hello just for the heck of it. 

I guess when we have our own families, the rest can easily be classed as "by-the-way" in this case not by choice but by consciousness to.

2nd child dilemma and anxiety...

With Peaches, it was really easy coming up with a name but Berries has given us such a hard time but by last night, that is 5 days shy of her being delivered is when we came up with one. We've decided to keep it a secret until she's born plus it has absolutely nothing to do with berries. It's a French name that rhymes with framboise - raspberry in English - but neither of those tickled my fancy as a nickname hence, Berries. One can never imagine how difficult naming a baby is! I've been late with everything on this pregnancy, (as is the case in my daily life)... I'm never in a rush until when I'm running late. But as I type this, Berries' stuff are packed and the MIL, upon my request came over yesterday to help me arrange the drawers. I'll see whether I have any energy in my reserve to sort out and pack my stuff tonight.

I told the BF I was not going to spend more than 100€ buying new "gagdets" for the baby only to dispose them off after 6 months and therefore settled for second hand. I checked out all that I needed online, got the numbers of the sellers but then proceeded to the second hand store before making the calls. I got the car seat for 5€, moved to the next shop where I managed to bargain the baby carrier that will act as her bed to 15€ given that some parts were broken and I figured we can improvise how to fix that. The changing table came down from 54€ to 30€ with a promise to take it back and get 15€ for it at the end of its use; I also took for 1€ some support that'll use when she'll be able to go in the bathtub with her big sister and a mattress for 9€ to place on the changing table. On the overall, I was quiet pleased with my day. At the counter as I was really bargaining, this pink lady tells the shop-owner that at least she is not like me, in the sense of squeezing the euros! I hushened her up by telling her that her budget was not the same as mine so she should just quit with the comparisons.

I've had people I know stop over to check on me before the D-day and I ashamadely had a small drink once. Then I found myself texting the bf asking him to get me non-alcoholic beer. It started with one bottle and when the second one made me feel a little bit tipsy, I had to stop and totally restrain myself from continuing. The following day got me depressed and I figured the only way out will be a beer. By the third day, I just had to stop as my conscious couldn't let me curve after restraining myself for the past million weeks or so!! I must admit that I really tried keeping it clean with the foods and the drinks.

I guess Peaches is resigned to the fact that it's not a baby boy but she ain't admitting either that it's a baby girl, she just says "Ohhhh, I can't wait for the baby to be born" and she tells the baby secrets every night! She is hyper clingy to Mama, I totally understand and I just hope the transition passes on without any hitches. I surprised myself because I stopped yelling and became really good maybe Berries helped me with that :-)

Well, I check in at the hospital on Tuesday and have the CS done on Wednesday morning. The BF is still deliberating and mustering the courage as to whether he'll have the grace to go through the whole procedure as I officially sent him an invitation to be there. I swear I can't wait for all this to be over! It feels like 9 years of pregnancy. 9 months have never felt this long!