Saturday, May 14, 2011

What am I complaining about?

I am grateful for posts like these that put things in perspective. Especially if you're a mother, please read it.

I've been feeling dissatisfied lately. Not quite happy with my lot. I don't know why I've been feeling this way. I think my eyes may be on the wrong things. On the natural instead of on the heavenly. I've been wanting...things. Nicer things than the ones I've got. An easier ride. Been dwelling on regrets. But when I read posts like the above one, I realise (again!) how insignificant all the things I think and worry about are.

Here's a little excerpt from the blog:
"I have never had to discuss the two day journey that was made walking to the hospital. The fistula I developed after the heartbreaking four day labour and stillborn birth. I've never had to think about getting through labour on my own, no doctor, midwife or even someone remotely qualified to help. I've never given birth in a camp or walked across a war zone and had a bullet that was three inches away from my womb removed, like a woman in Afghanistan did late last year."


Turbo's birth was long and hard. Without medical intervention, one or both of us would have died. The umbilical cord was around his neck and so he couldn't put his chin down to progress down the birth canal. Because of this, he was also a little distressed, and his heart rate was fluctuating quite a lot. Eventually after trying many different things, they managed to suction him out, one and a half days after when my labour started.

But he was healthy, apart from a tender and misshapen head, and full of beans.

Check out the cone head!

So today I choose to put things in perspective and be grateful. And tomorrow, and the day after, I will do my best to make that same choice, as many times as it takes to start feeling that way again.

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1 comment:

L A said...

Man! It's so hard to live in this world sometimes. I don't know how things like this happen. I just watched the movie Precious the other day. Even in a first world country, the nightmares women endure. I could just cry and cry.

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