The Rollercoaster Ride Of Parenthood.

I always knew that I wanted to have children. Growing up, I mostly cared for my younger siblings. I've just always, always had Mama Karma.

I got married at age 24, had my first child at 26, and my second child at 28.

Both my pregnancies were high-risk and both births were complicated. My husband and I initially planned a water-birth at home for our first child, but when the time came, that had to change and I had to have a c-section. According to the surgeon, my ovaries had swollen to 6 times their normal size, and my uterus was on the  verge of rupture. The second birth was barely 2 years after the first one and came with its own set of complications. The surgery was even longer than the first time. Labor was extremely painful both times, and the recovery process after each birth was hectic.

Loving my children is the easiest part of parenting. My son and daughter are the most perfect , most beautiful , most wonderful and awesome things in the world!

Get as much information about pregnancy, birth and parenting as you possibly can, and then some. Learn as much as you can and don't hesitate in asking for help. Ask all your questions no matter what they are and avoid assuming or jumping to conclusions. Also, there's absolutely no shame in wanting to get a second or a third or even a fourth opinion.

1. A good gyneacologist during pregnancy.
2. A good pediatrician after birth and throughout childhood.
3. A good dentist might come in handy.
4. Read a lot about good parenting; books and articles.
5. Watch educational videos on the subject.
6. Interact with other parents.

In the late morning hours of  Sunday, January 8, 2023, my husband was busy cleaning up our apartment while I was laying down, recovering from surgery (c-section), and breastfeeding my newborn daughter. Our son who had turned 2 years old not long before then had been with me in the bedroom, playing with his toys... until he suddenly lost interest  in them, got up, and started to leave the room.

I remember clearly how I called out to him and begged for him to stay with me, and I clearly remember how innocently he turned to look at me, his eyes scanning the room as he considered my plea, and then how he decided to go and walked away, leaving the door ajar.
I called out to him again a few times and then I called out for my husband. At that point, I thought I had heard my husband talking to our son and so I relaxed a little.

About 5 minutes later, my husband walked into the bedroom with a smile. Little boy was not in tow. I looked into hubby's face, his eyes scanned the room, and then he asked, "Where is Ira?"

My heart froze. I set my newborn down on the bed and jumped up. That was a bad idea because the sharp pain from my surgery wound paralyzed me in that moment and I had to grab the bedpost to keep myself from falling. My husband had already rushed out and headed straight for the apartment's swimming pool, outside in the compound. Seconds later, my worst nightmare became real when I heard my husband scream, "Oh no! Noo!" 
Our baby was floating on the surface of the water, face down, no sign of life.

By the time I had rushed outside to the pool, hubby had taken Ira out of the water (he, my husband, would later tell me that our boy had been as light as a sheet of paper, his teeth had been biting down on his tongue, and his eyes were blue) and had started to perform CPR on him. When I saw the spectacle before me, I am ashamed to say that I fainted, making an already awful situation even worse.

The next hour was a rollercoaster of emotion and drama. I had gotten myself up and the four of us had rushed to the first hospital, where the nurses and doctors run away from us upon seeing the situation. No one wanted to be the one to pronounce a baby dead. Eventually, a brave worker had come to us and secured a place  for us to lay our son. Through all the chaos, my husband had not stopped giving our son CPR. Eventually, our boy was put on oxygen and given a couple of injections, before we were told  that we wouldn't be allowed to stay because the hospital was already overcrowded.

The next two hospitals flat out refused to take us in. The next hospital after those two afforded us an x-ray scan, for which we were very grateful. Eventually we made the decision to go to the hospital where Ira and our daughter had been born. This hospital was about 4 hours away, but we decided to still go because we were well known and well liked there , so we were sure our baby would get the best treatment. By this time, little boy had opened his eyes a few times already and had been slipping in and out of consciousness.

At our favorite hospital, we were admitted for a week while our boy was treated with wonderful care as he slowly recovered.
It's been a little over a year since then and our boy is doing great. His sister is doing great too. We've been grateful for every day since then, but we're still very traumatized by the experience, to be honest. Despite the miracle of our child surviving, the experience is by far the most harrowing and traumatising experience of our lives. We thought our baby boy was gone! Forever! How would we have ever moved past that? How would we have ever gone on? 

I have some photos of my children to prove that I am a parent and that my husband and I treat our children well.

YES! A resounding Yaassss!!!
I love my children so much and I really love being their mother.
I can't even remember my life before I became my children's mom.

No Rules. No Excuses. No Regrets.