Majestically she roars,
A leader among the nations,
Powerfully she soars,
Rising far above her limitations,
Nigeria, home of the intellectual,
Brims with resiliency so perpetual
Our country blessed with Gods favour,
Overflowing, to share with our neighbour
May God continue to bless our dear home,
Fill her with leaders wise, kind and fair,
Our youth and brilliant talent no more to roam,
Return and make our nation great again.
In a heart-shattering swoosh
Yellow orange flames appear
Out of thin air, fiery magic: swisshh!
Time stands still, frozen in fear
Eyes hypnotized by spreading flames
Raging and consuming all in its path.
.
.
.
Thoughts a pounding
Heart beats racing
Screaming from within
Baby’s confused cries pierce
Muscles spring to action
Taking flight, flames die out
.
.
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Charred remnants fill my vision
Oh dear anxious heart be still
What-ifs scenarios, mind’s revision
A continuous loop sends down a chill
Enough! No more dwelling in fear.
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Friend’s reassurances fall on deaf ears
Husband’s comfort efforts fall to naught
I run to God’s Word to cast off all fears
Desperate for a calm amidst my inner raging storm
Two massive masses of excruciating, throbbing pain on my chest
Pain that pounds along to the blood coursing through my veins
Eyes heavy and hooded, holding back expressions of pain
I shy away for fear of being kicked or elbowed in the most tender of places
Uuuffffhh!
A kick I didn’t see coming knocks me off my feet, I fail to brace myself
For the waves of pain shooting through my body
I hold our baby girl away from me
Her eyes well up in confusion
She longs to be held
She too is undergoing a transition, a right of passage
From being a milk dependent babe
To a grown up independent toddler
Her body, weary from lack of sleep of the night before,
Her lips peel back to let out cries of hurt, needing her mama
The sweet delicious comfort she has known since birth is snatched away,
Been craddled in the warmth of mummy’s arms
Suckling, a scientifically inexplicable bond
Learning to sleep without aid of suckling milk is a foreign feat
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Swollen breasts harden, small breast ducts bulging beneath skin
As mum’s brain registers the cues of baby’s cries,
Sends signals to the breast: produce more milk!
Doesn’t matter that milk storages are overfull
.
.
.
With each passing day, the pain reduces, albeit minimally
Baby girl struggles reduce, sleep embraces her with open arms
During the day, mother and daughter slowly learn a new dance
Slowly we advance to the next level of mother-daughter bonding:
Before weaning, she could never sit still for more than two heartbeats
Eager to perfect her walking, increase her speed of running,
Suddenly she is all about cuddles,
Crawling into my lap is now a normal need for mama’s comforting hugs
Independent she grows, confident in her mama’s immoveable love.
.
.
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My mummy heart expands further than I thought possible
Love fills me, reassurance that the special bond between me and baby girl isn’t lost.
Initial fears now prove a waste of emotional strength
Our mama-daughter bond has evolved, matured, grown and strengthened.
As I hold our precious daughter in my arms, struggling with her elongated arms and legs sliding out of my grasp, I jiggle her up and down as I rock her to sleep to the whirring rhythm of our ceiling fan.
There is a humongous mountain of unvoiced fears hovering at the back of my subconscious. Fears of the unknown, a looming new stage of life in front of me.
I have been a stay at home mom for the past 16 months that stretched on endlessly, yet flew by unbelievably. I have never spent a night away from our baby. Being a “stay home mom” became my identity, my purpose, my pride, my joy, my peace of mind. I had my daughter under my watchful gaze 95% of the time and I did my best to maintain a nurturing environment for her to develop, grow, and learn.
I believe it’s time for my daughter to start school so I can have some breathing space and productive use of time. I have been stubbornly on the thrill of freedom I will soon experience when my daughter starts day care even if for just half a day each week day.
Since December of last year I have been taking slow but steady steps of personal and career development..I recently realized I need space and time to really lift some enterprises off the ground.
As I cling tightly to our young toddler, I cling unto faith that God is in control. In this instant, I could either pray, or poke the mountain of fear and have it all come crashing down on me to drown beneath the weight of it all.
One of the names we gave our daughter came from us entrusting her into the care of God. I had to literally say it out to God again last night: God, I am handing our daughter into your care.
I prayed that God will assign the right care givers. I prayed that God will give her heavenly immune system and protect her from illness and disease . I prayed God will take control of every detail concerning her future (Jeremiah 29:11). I prayed that God will place her in His angels’ care so when she falls, she will not dash her foot against a stone (Psalms 91:11).
I would have prayed for longer but I couldn’t ignore the ache in my arms anymore. Plus our little angel was snoring peacefully.
One more prayer God…or two…
She has been waking up whimpering or crying for the past week. So I prayed that the peace of God that passeth all understanding would rest over her. God grant your beloved child sweet sleep.
And lastly God, help me to pray every time I am tempted to over think things and give into worry and fears. Help me to be a prayer warrior and intercede for every area of my life, my marriage, my child, my ministry and my career. Amen
Philippians 4:6-7 (NKJV)
Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” ~ Isaiah 41:10
Originally wrote this article here
I sit here savoring each sip, enjoying the steaming rich aroma of one of my favorite scents: coffee! My tongue savors the most delicious, hot, silky, creamy, sweet liquid and passes it on for my yearning throat to swallow.
A crow announces its flight through the trees in our garden with its Ca-caw, ca-caw. Two little birdies chase each other around the mustard yellow and green leafy branches of the umbrella tree nearby , twittering sweetly.
The gauzy curtain of the windows flutters and gently sways as cool breeze flows into our dining room. Gentle and consistent hammering from the nearby factory provides the background music, while Chinese rhymes are playing from the tablet beside me.
My daughter sits attentively in her high chair, allowing me some moments to savour my first cup of coffee in forever. I have never tasted anything more delicious! No fancy coffeehouse, coffee art or cafe with beautiful decor can rival my current experience.
Calm contentedness fills every fibre of my being. It has been half a year since I entered my third decade and the self transformation continues. Not transformation so much as self realization. I had been in hibernation mode for so many years, cruising through life on Auto-Pilot. Allowing life to happen and pushing me along.
Curling my fingers around my warm pink ceramic mug, my mind wanders. My body’s hormonal system once again adjusting to cutting back milk supply due to our baby’s weaning. Hence the end of my coffee sabbatical. Woohoo!
A large chunk of my readers are wondering: what is all the fuss about? Coffee is your daily ritual, Starbucks within easy reach. But living here in Nigeria, coffee is a luxurious treat.
The past couple of weeks has been a bit of emotional adjustment for both mother and daughter. Lack of sleep, as daddy had to take over her nightly waking and hold her as she cried for her two-three times a night breast-milk snack. I used to think I have a high level of pain-tolerance but i questioned that when dealing with breast engorgement, headaches and body aches such as I never imagined possible.
Weaning was a bittersweet transition because on the one hand, I missed the oxytocin-facilitated bonding with our daughter in breastfeeding sessions: the overwhelming feelings of love, happiness boost and closeness to our daughter.
I can’t imagine how difficult it was for baby girl to be cut off from suckling from mummy as she had done from the first day she was introduced to the world. Baby girl also had to learn how to adjust to a main source of comfort by finding comfort in mama through other means: cuddles, neck guzzling and so forth.
On the up-side: weaning marks a sort of transition from a newbie mum, a nursing mum to a “toddler mum”? I feel like I have graduated to next phase of parenting. The freedom of not nursing anymore is thrilling! Any other stay home mamas know what on Earth I am talking about? 😀
I put so many things on hold so I could give everything I could to personally oversee her care. So am definitely looking forward to easing back into other interests and business pursuits. So Exciting!
Hope you enjoyed all the musings the most delicious cup of coffee brought me!
No more banging on doors, begging you to let me in
And try and try with all my might
How your heart am I supposed to win?
How can I expect others to respect me
When respect to myself I first must show?
.
From the first day, I was on my knees
All my pleas, your anger can never cease
The tears drip till the heart bleeds dry
Beg and beg, you are deaf to all cry.
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I dance and fail to move to your tune,
With all my energy, I will my feet to move
To all my sweet charm, you are immune,
My self worth to you I shall never prove.
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Enough with all my defensiveness,
No more proving my fabulousness,
Time to learn who God made me to be
Pleasing Him is my utmost priority
.
Take ownership, assume responsibility,
Their anger isn’t your fault, you see?
No more saying yes without thinking for myself
Learning to say no without fear of anger consequence
.
I am brave, I am strong
I admit I am wrong,
I can learn, I can grow
I can love you healthily
…..
My baby girl,
It is time to sleep;
Close your eyes,
Not one little peep.
Mommy’s gonna tell you
Of a love so deep
My love I give to you,
Love that’s yours to keep.
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A mother’s love doesn’t end
When her daughter
Down the aisle she sends,
This your mum found to be true,
As she entered marriage
And motherhood without a clue.
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Mom and grandma’s love relationship attempts,
Grew from one of strife, frustration and contempt,
To appreciation, mutual understanding and love,
Resentment now replaced with gratefulness to God above.
.
Through tears, fights, disagreements in marriage,
A mother offers words of wisdom, prayer support
That bears her daughter up in heavenly carriage
Marriage now binds them in deeper rapport
.
My little princess, this is just the beginning,
My heart, my time, my all, is yours for the taking,
May God bless this mother’s heart
Keep me by your side, never to depart.
.No baby carriers, bag-full hands;
No eyes roaming, yelling commands;
Just two ecstatic ladies out on a date,
Enjoying a delicious meeting of fate;
Two kindred spirits, lovers of fashion,
Yearning to break forth with passion
.
This time to the sound of pitter patter,
Rain drip dropping on my nylon covered hair,
Zooming through slick, empty streets with zesty flair,
No rain is going to dampen this mama’s spirits, I declare.
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Home at last, another mom date sits a- ‘waiting,
With her two adorables, chit chatting,
I see that precious little human my heart is missing,
Even though independence I just was relishing.
A nursing father, you’d agree
Biological impossibility, he may be
I have come to know such an anomaly
He is the father of my child, you see…
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A harder working man has never crossed my sight,
Though you search for him with all your might,
Selfless, diligent, sweat he has sown
The comfort of wife and baby before his own
.
He works, he toils, he perspires,
For his family’s best, he aspires,
A nursing father exudes strength beyond belief,
My Superman flies home much to my relief,
To take over our bundle of energy,
A fussing cry turns to squeals of glee
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Moms all over the world will agree and decide
Life as a parent is easier with you by our side,
May God continue to guide and strengthen you,
Crown your efforts with success, blessings in all you do
To the nursing Fathers I say
Have a fantastical Father’s Day!
…
Originally posted Fathers day 2019, on Christianmommas.com
Love as fragile as a Rose;
It’s beauty fully appreciated
When received as a single flower,
Or in a gorgeously adorned bouquet
You smell its fragrance
Only because you long to
As you inch closer to sniff,
Hands steering clear of its protective thorns
It is most appealing and vibrant
When freshly plucked, it shines
With rich, radiant rosiness,
Or its pure, graceful pearly white.
As time passes, alone it darkens.
The petals you see blacken
Slowly withers away, beauty fades.
But peel the outer layers away, reveals the beauty within
If you treasure the rose, love it.
To keep the love alive, nurture it.
Prune the rose, cut the stem diagonally.
Plant it within nutrient-enriched soil,
to see it thrive and flourish.
Though the thorns may bleed you
If you hastily approach, no caution.
But if you tenderly strip away the defenses of thorns,
Take the time to get closer and discover what lies beneath,
What joys, pleasures, sensations new experience brings
And you will forget the initial pricks and thorns,
As you enjoy a rose garden full of love.
Written by the much younger Mrs Dew 🙂
To all the weary moms,
New recruits who have been through childbirth storms,
To labour pains you refused to cave,
Back screaming from radiating waves,
The lifeless feeling of a body drained of blood…
The oh so elusive sleep your whole being craves.
.
Night blurs into days
Time now being kept to the cries of your new born babe,
The world revolves around feeding, diapers and bath times
Cobwebbed brain operating in automation mode
Striving to settle our precious one into our loving abode.
.
Days runs into weeks that blend into months,
Baby learns to roll, then scoot turns into crawls
Dreaded immunizations as baby in pain bawls,
Then comes the time to introduce baby to solid food
The nursing mother thinks her salvation has arrived.
.
To all the weary moms, I raise a song,
You are brave, selfless and strong,
Labour and childbirth didn’t make you keel,
One day at a time, your body will heal
And so the journey into motherhood
Evolves and revolves…
Photocredits: IG user @postpartum
The heart sighs with its heavy, unfulfilled desires;
The mind churns with plans for my ultimate future;
So much to do, many places to go;
Scores of people to meet, kilometers of paths to tread;
Mountain after Mountain to take captive of;
Battles to be fought, Lessons to be learned;
Becoming a victor is no small feat;
To be triumphant over the wars of life is the end goal.
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It is time to reign in those wild horses of thoughts;
Time to take count, rank in order of importance;
Next, it is imminent to put into practice one thought;
Follow through to the end. IF impossible to succeed,
Re-evaluate the plan of action vital for dreams to take flight.
.
Note this, there is no dream impossible to dream;
If it is right and true, heavens will smile down;
And together with faith and hardwork,
WILL see this dream through until it becomes YOUR REALITY
The heartbeat races
The brain pounds to the beat
Of the reverberating drum of life
People to love,
Lovers who break your heart,
Friends to cherish
Buddies who betray your trust
Life is a double sided coin,
Life is a rollercoaster, a journey, an adventure,
Life is your tune to create.
It all depends on perspective and attitude.
The World, I fear, has lost its mind;
It’s running amuck, humanity is stuck in a grind:
Hacked to death, storms a’raging;
Terrorists’ plots and massacres from bombings;
The news around invades one’s peace of mind.
.
Politics, a terrorizing version of chess;
The true nature of a leader steers us all towards chaos or progress.
The Media adds fuel to riots galore;
Violent-ridden streets, rivers of blood and gore.
It is time for wisdom to rule, time to think for oneself.
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Youths in their years of twenty-somethings,
Caught up amidst turmoil and woes, what is life’s meaning?
We are now adults, still lost in a storm;
We’ve forgotten where we came from,
Lost in the thrill of chasing Forbes-Hollywood of fortune and fame.
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As a youth and leader of tomorrow,
Now is the time to educate, observe, avoid past mistakes and sorrow;
Decide who I am and where I want to be.
A better world starts from within, you see?
I shall not be caught up with the masses and their passivity.
.
Dearest reader, stop all the hustle;
Reflect, and breathe life outside of your passionless daily hassles.
Re-evaluate your goals and priorities;
Life is filled with endless possibilities!
Who are you? What legacy do you want to leave behind?
Do you want to be swept up with the masses, endlessly stuck in the grind?
Or do you want to set new visions, forge a new road to a brighter future
For your children who are yet to arrive into this tumultuous world?
….
This is a Poem I wrote in the wake of #UK cleaver-murder of 22nd May, 2013, originally posted on an old Facebook page i started here
6 years ago I wrote this post. The last chapter brings chills down my spine, as when I wrote this, I had no idea I would be a parent any time soon.
Now with a daughter of my own, this poem resonates on a whole new level with me. What sort of world have I brought our daughter into?
What can I do starting today that will build a better world she can live in and thrive?
What can YOU do to be the change the world needs in your little corner today.
You can choose to be different
Be a positive influence to your siblings, classmates, colleagues, neighbors, employees and even the bosses above you.
If you are blessed with greater spheres of influence in education, politics, engineering, medicine, etc, stop being afraid of ridicule and stand for what is right!
This was written by a younger, more idealized version of me…you once were a better person, you had dreams of a better future…you can still uphold those standards of integrity and make the younger you proud!
The art of blogging
I stumbled upon
In all my searching
A better blogger
I most long to be.
.
This advice was oft’n repeated:
Write, write and continuously write
So here I lie among feathered filled pillows,
Tired body crying for the embrace of sleep,
One ear cocked in the direction of the crib,
Inspiration has long gone to rest.
.
And still I write
Begin this journey
I write and I write
Time to oil my pen
Exercise muscles
Heart, Hand, brain and soul
.
Write from the heart
Write from the brain
Write from experience
And non-existence
It’s 2.35am, I am wide awake, the normal bone deep tiredness retreating into the distance for a confused change. I just went through a bizarre tussle with my 10 month old daughter, leaving me feeling somewhat lacking as a mother.
Basically what has been happening lately that gave rise to me feeling that I am failing as a mum is that bedtime has been mostly a struggle withour baby girl and I. Well, a “more-than-usual” struggle. I honestly don’t know how sleep training would work with a restless sleeper.
From the moment she turned 7 months, she would pull herself to stand in her crib-turned-play-pen and walk around in circles endlessly. So leaving her to sleep on her own in the crib doesn’t work as she will take that as permission to explore and play and perfect her walking skills through the night.
So now, in putting baby to bed, I would go through this long tiring workout juggling between backing her, bringing her down when she keeps wriggling.
To put her to sleep, picture backing a child and bouncing up and down on your heels to rock her to sleep…
If she is still awake an hour later, or as short as it takes for me to physically tire out, I proceed to use my breastmilk to make her fall asleep (yes, I know experts say this is a no-no but what is a fatigued mama gonna do?!)
Any little energy I have at the end of the day is spent putting her to sleep. Sometimes she falls asleep quite easily. But it is nights like this one that leave more of an impression. I had to Whatsapp call my husband in the living room to come bail me out.
I had woken up before 7 this morning with a determined zeal to clean (sweep and mop floors) our entire house in one day (we have a big house). Usually I do portions between two or three days. My mum and her helper had come over today and I used the opportunity to see my plan through.
My husband had come home by 9pm and hadn’t eaten his packed lunch yet so I didn’t want to disturb him till he had eaten dinner. I continued my efforts doggedly despite my aching legs and back and tiredness. At 10.45pm, I had to Whatsapp call him to come bail me out. I had just changed her poopy diapers and he met us splayed out on the bed, she had rolled over playfully on the bed. He picked her up and she docilely laid her head on his shoulder. I looked on in disbelief and felt a brief pang of disappointment at all the effort I had put in, including struggling to keep her head on my shoulder to sleep as part of my list of efforts of sleep routine. I turned off the lamp and lay silently on the messy bed so as not to make any noise.
Fast forward to now, I can’t remember if this is the first time she woke up since hubby put her to bed, but somehow this time she just would not suck and go back to sleep, though this happens a few times since she turned 5 months. I don’t know how this huge sense of frustration and anger came over me and I stood up with her and start forcing her head to rest on my shoulder and angrily hissing at her that its time to sleep. She obviously fought off my efforts and her whimpers woke my husband who normally sleeps through her middle-of-the-night-feedings. I got back into bed and tried giving her the breast to go back to sleep, but she is still awake and I’m feeling angry and frustrated and she is crying out. My husband gave up tossing and turning and just takes her from my arms and she quietens and falls promptly asleep as he rocks her. He keeps on his efforts for like 10 more minutes to ensure she is in deep sleep all the while I am feeling guilty at my anger and frustration and somewhat betrayed by how easily she has been falling asleep with her dad.
My husband lays her down and comes into bed..I reach out for him, he lays on his stomach, head faced away, arm squeezing mine and instantly falls asleep, unaware of the turmoil within me.
Wide awake and disconcerted, I pick up the phone and weirdly try to blog my feelings away to the calm whirring of our standing fan. The me of several years ago would bring out my well worn diary and write and write, trying to sort out my feelings, Literally pouring out my confused feelings till I fall asleep, emptied.
I guess I blow my nose a little bit noisily and our darling super light sleeper is up and standing, clinging to the sides of her cot, whimpering. I take her, bring her to my breast, she instantly falls asleep and all is right with the mother in me. Though I still feel the need to finish this blog. Whereas my thoughts were all jumbled off and I started going off on a tangent, which I erased… my head is cleared and I am able to recount this nights misadventure more clearly…for a fellow nursing mom’s reading pleasure as you chuckle and sympathize along with me.
For now, I will try and resume as much needed rest before she wakes up for her next midnight breastfeed…
Dear nursing mother…or nursing father (as my hubby and some men I know would passionately argue for…)Please would like to hear your stories as well as moments of frustration u felt in your journey into parenthood. Where there certain vivid circumstances that occurred which left u feeling less than or lacking as a parent?
What lessons have you learnt from being a parent?
Sleeping “like a baby” in the wee hours of the morning…and yes, she sleeps most soundly in our bed
thedewdiary 