Awaiting the blessed event
By: Shahida Sarwat
How it feels to be mother for the first time. Here is firsthand experience on how it feels to be a mother for the first time by Shahida Sarwat. She wrote this article for The Desert Times issue dated 17 September 1997. Shahida became mother on 12 March 1997.
Excitement of New Arrival
Exactly fourteen months ago, when I found out that I was expecting, I felt myself flying high in the sky.
But the first three months was so horrible, because my doctor suggested me to take complete bed rest. At that time Fozail did his level best to give me the full attention and comfort.
After few days I did fly to my mother’s house at Karachi. Right from the second day of my arrival there I started picking teeny weenie nursery stuff. Before I could actually feel my little one alive and kicking inside me I had multicoloured collection of bibs, bottles, dresses and God knows what not. It took sometimes for the reality to start thinking that it is not all fun and games to carry and then ultimately bear a child.
Anxious First Time Mother-to-be!
My doctor suggested me an orientation course for the first time mothers-to-be, but I didn’t want to attend it. At the time I thought that in some cases ignorance is much more better, and the other reasons was that I had some good books on that topic. So I decided to be merry and never take anything so seriously.
At daytime I used to engage myself with my mother in doing house hold chores. My afternoons were spent by watching television or movies or reading books on babies. And my evenings were occupied by stitching nappies etc. for my little one. But all of a sudden the nights started becoming uncomfortable. My mind had been surrounded with a lot of questions that I wanted to remain unanswered. I used to wrap my head under the pillow that soaked all my tears, at that time I missed Fozail a lot. I just wanted to run back to him. But one thought of the yet-to-be-born and the joys he or she would bring to us would take away all my fears and uneasiness.
On the morning of 11 March 1997 I was absolutely at the mercy of doctors and nurses. Various ultrasounds and different test was done on that day. It was all done and over. And at about 6 o’clock in the morning of 12 March 1997, when I came to my senses the outcome of the so long wait was in my arms – my lovely little son.
And after 8 days I walked out of the hospital as a proud new mummy of a brand new six and a half pound boy – my Danish. Really nothing compares to giving birth, no experience is as thrilling, exhausting, terrifying and deeply satisfying. From the day my Danish come to our lives and we as parents enter his life is never the same.
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