Abortion is Not a Privilege

January 31, 2018July 23, 2020 | Rohana Aisha Dewfall

The moment I found out I was pregnant was not a joyous one.

I did not have the excitement, or happiness that you see on Clearblue adverts. I was not thrilled by the fact that there was a tiny human being inside me. I was terrified.

Of course, not everyone’s story is like mine – but there are many, many women who do not expect or do not want to be pregnant. Some, like me, make the choice to continue with their pregnancy, learn to accept it and in time enjoy it. Others, continue their pregnancy because they have to; even though it is not what they want. In my birthplace, there is an ongoing debate about whether women should be allowed the opportunity to consider termination as an option, and so, inspired by the debate, I have sat down to write.

I do not claim to speak for women in general, nor do I assume that everyone who is pro-choice will have the same reasons for their belief. But I want to share my person views on this topic, because I believe, very strongly, that abortion is not a privilege, and that we should remove the societal stigma associated with it.

When I found out I was pregnant, a lot went through my mind. I was confused, scared, and despite my partner being in the next room, I felt alone. This was my body, and my life that was about to be turned entirely upside-down. As a student, and a young woman, I had plans, I had dreams, and I had every intention of living my life to the fullest, before I wanted to start a family. My partner and I talked, and the next morning I went to see my GP. I immediately asked about my options, including termination, because I needed to know all the avenues I could choose from. My GP arranged a visit to the BPAS clinic and there I was allowed to discuss everything I was feeling, all my thoughts and concerns, and I was given a lot of information about every option I had.

Still unsure, I booked a termination.

This was not a whimsical decision. I spent many nights thinking about it, and I spent many hours trying to process all of my emotions. Like many women, I chose not to tell anyone I knew, and so I was very much alone. Personally, I needed it this way, because it meant that apart from professional information and discussion, I had no other influences (aside from my partner, who was extremely supportive).

The process I went through involved speaking to multiple medical professionals, and then at the end, I explained that my heart was still heavy, and I needed some more time to process what was happening. I booked a termination for 2 weeks later, and was assured I could cancel it at any time if I decided not to go ahead.

This was empowering.

I knew that regardless of my decision, I was in control. My body, still in the very early stages of pregnancy, showed no signs of my baby. I researched all the options I had discussed, and I learned that termination was as much a trauma for the body as childbirth. It is not something that women go into lightly, and the effects that it can have are sometimes lasting. Still, I knew that I had a choice.

The fact that I had the choice was what mattered. The fact that I could decide what to do, allowed me to feel like things would be okay. The reality I had to face was hard; because either choice that I made, I would have to process, emotionally and physically, but the fact that I had the choice, made all the difference.

I went from being a terrified girl in the bathroom, wondering how the hell she got there, to a woman with a difficult decision to make about her life.

After a lot of deliberation, sleepless nights and difficult hours, I eventually made the choice to cancel my termination appointment. I was confident when I did so, because I had been given the time to consider what I wanted. I knew that I couldn’t control what was going to happen, but I felt liberated by the knowledge that it was my decision at the end of the day. I embraced the curve-ball that the universe threw at me, and almost 18 months later I am embracing everything that motherhood brings now too. I have an immense network of support. My village is large, spanning cities and countries, and I know that I am privileged to have the support that I do. I knew I had this village when I made my decision; if not, I might have made a different one.

Six months after my baby was born, after hours of study, I sit and I write this. I love my son immensely, and I wouldn’t change the decision I made. Yet even now, there are moments that I wonder what my life would have been like, I would not have the same struggles, and I would not face the same battles.

In no way to I regret my decision; my baby is the best thing in my life right now, and the love I have for him is immeasurable, but a lot of my love and appreciation stems from the fact that I made the decision to continue with my pregnancy and to birth my baby. If I had been robbed of that choice; if I had not been allowed to consider the idea that motherhood was not what I wanted at the time, then I think somewhere inside me, even with all the love, there would have been a feeling of grief. I am privileged to have been allowed to choose, and for that I am grateful.

Abortion is not a privilege.

If we teach our children that the choices they make will shape their lives, then we should be encouraging as much choice as possible. Nobody, young or old, wise or foolish deserves to be backed into the corner of having a baby they did not plan or or do not want. We empower people with choices, and we encourage real thought in order to make decisions.

Abortion may not be something you would choose. It may be something you have never thought about. It may be something that you were denied. We tend to ignore the controversial issues in small conversations, but I encourage you to break this norm. Lets talk about this. Let’s put abortion on the agenda, because once it is there, we not only empower women with the choice about their bodies, but we inspire our children to be a little bit more open minded, and we encourage societal change.

Do Our Names Make Us? And Should We Change Them?

January 30, 2018July 23, 2020 | Rohana Aisha Dewfall

Have you ever looked at someone you know and imagined them with a different name? Have you ever imagined your parent or best friend called something else? Have you ever looked in the mirror and imagined that instead of being you, with your name; you were called something entirely different. Hard isn’t it – our names make up a large aspect of who we are.

If you are a parent, you’ll know how long it can take to decide on what you’re going to name your baby – because it is something that will define them, and they will grow up with. A name, though fundamentally just a string of letters and sounds, has a lot of meaning. Names are chosen through tradition, or because we like them, or maybe they are picked because of their etymology. Personally, I know that my name was chosen because it is not difficult to spell, or pronounce (though my schooling experience begs to differ). My parents considered this, alongside other factors, when they decided what to call me. In the end, I was born with 3 names: Rohana, which means sandalwood in Sanskrit, was chosen by my mum, Aisha, the name my dad called me often as I grew up, and Dewfall, my dad’s surname.

I am Rohana Aisha Dewfall.

When people ask me who I am, I give them these names. Over the last 21 years, these names have become me, and I have become them. Essentially, my 3 names are an integral part of identity. Of course, I will argue that I am much more than my name, but my name is a grounding force for me now, and it how people think of me.

When choosing my son’s name, my partner and I discussed a lot of different ones, but if we knew someone with the same name, for example, we considered the name George, and immediately, our association to people who we know called George made us like or dislike the name. Names, are extremely powerful.

They always have been.

A woman’s name says a lot about her. Specifically her surname. I have my dads surname, so does my brother, and so does my mum. When my mum got married, she took my dad’s surname and swapped it out for her own. At the time, it was almost expected, and nobody really thought twice about it. She has created an identity based on her married name, and I couldn’t imagine her any other way.

Fast forward to my marriage, and thing are different now. I chose not to take my husband’s surname, and it is a choice that I in no way regret. I am a proud wife, and I love my husband, keeping my name does not diminish that. I am an independent person. I have created an identity around my name. The idea of changing my name is not one that I really entertained – of course we had the conversation, but H knew where I stood well before our marriage, and so it wouldn’t have come as much of a surprise when I said that unless he took my name, I would not take his.

Traditionally, when a woman took her husband’s name, it signaled to the world that she was no longer the property of her blood family (specifically her father), but was now the property of her husband. I am a feminist… and I am nobody’s property. Which is why I said that H should take my name too; that way we’d be equal. And for a while, we both toyed with the idea that we would do exactly that – he may be very traditionalist in some ways, but he married me, so he’s definitely someone who at least considers whats outside societal norms. In the end though, we decided it wasn’t a make or break thing; we were both happy to keep our own names and to give our son both of them too.

We may have different surnames, but we are no less a family that the one I grew up in – and even though it means I get stopped at the airport and asked for proof of relationship, or addressed incorrectly from time to time, I am happy I kept my surname. It is something that I have questioned a little bit more recently, but writing this has been cathartic, because I know that I made the right choice. My gut was right – it usually is.

We are more than our names, in the same way that we are more than the labels society gives us. I am a mother, wife, sister, daughter, friend and much more – but most of all I am me; figuring out who ‘me’ is tends to be the most difficult part.

Identity can be elusive… so I pose the question to you – who are you? Are you your name, or are you more?

Cot? Maybe not!

January 18, 2018July 23, 2020 | Rohana Aisha Dewfall

I know there is a stigma about co-sleeping so before you read this and judge me, I would never do anything to put my baby in harms way, and I would only ever advocate co-sleeping when free from drugs, alcohol and anything that would make it unsafe, including other children with very small babies.

From the start of my pregnancy I had looked a co-sleeping. There were so many benefits, it saved the cost of a cot and bedding, and I’m a student, I live in my room, I didn’t really want to have a huge cot in it! Don’t get me wrong, I have not held back on the baby stuff but I was definitely assessing all my options.
However… with all the benefits came all the advice and warnings against sleeping with a baby. And so, I decided against it. I went against my instincts, and like a robot mum I consented to the cot, and listened to everyone who told me that if I didn’t teach my baby to sleep on his own, I would regret it.

I promised that I would teach Theo Prana to use his cot, after all, who wants baby cuddles all night really?!

So as my pregnancy progressed my parents bought us a mini cot in Gibraltar. It was a blessing! Despite my views on co-sleeping both then and now, I am truly grateful for the first 6 weeks of sleeping in my own bed… my parents, as they almost always do, got it right.

Using the cot meant that Theo Prana got a decent amount of sleep and I could sleep awkwardly with far too many pillows as my body healed from the trauma of birth. He would wake and I would feed him, burp him settle him and then an hour or 2 later, we’d do the same. Essentially, like most new mums will know, I got very little sleep those first weeks. The little sleep I got was precious, and I didn’t have to worry about squishing my tiny human while I got it. Then we came to the UK and like I had done at home, I used a cot. My grandparents gifted us one that was initially bought for my brother to use when we visited on family holidays. We brought it to Portsmouth and it is now sat beside me as I type this, filled with toys and my baby carrier, baby clothes and I’m pretty sure a box of celebrations.

From having help 24/7, I was alone for days and weeks… with uni work and house drama. My parents, the amazing humans they are, helped a lot when they visited, but we had to deal with being alone. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy every moment I get with my son, we are alone now and it’s hard but we make the most of it. But a few months ago, it was new territory, and I was like a walking zombie.

He went into his cot after long periods of crying. He would get up to feed and then be restless as he fell asleep, kicking the cot and basically preventing me from sleeping. Slowly but surely I gave in to the sleep deprivation.

Less and less he stayed in his cot, and more and more he ended up in my bed. First it was from 5am, then 3am-ish, then 2am, 1am, 11.30, and finally I stopped bothering entirely. From around the end of November, Theo Prana has slept in my bed all night, every nignt. And I am a lot happier!

Feeding is a piece of cake! I get more sleep. Cuddles! Theo Prana is literally who j wake up to in the morning 💗. Co-sleeping keeps him at a good body temperature (we are safe with the sheets) and steadies his heart rate. He is never worried that he’s alone and is extremely securely attached. It’s cheaper, or would have been if I had bought the cot, and space efficient – my cot is now a storage areas 😂.

Overall, I wouldn’t go back. I love having him in my bed, and if I have to co-sleep until he’s 5 then that’s what I’ll do – there is nothing better than curling up with your baby at the end of the day.

Setting My 2018 Intentions

January 9, 2018July 23, 2020 | Rohana Aisha Dewfall

I’m a bit late to the party, but this is something I wanted to do months ago – I just haven’t managed to get round to it. That kind of feels like my life nowadays: if it’s not to do with Theo Prana, or uni, it just doesn’t happen.

I saw a lot of blogs, and Instagram posts about the transition from 2017 to 2018, with everyone hoping that 2018 is a better one, and that they can find themselves or catch their break this year. I genuinely hope that this happens for people, I hope that my family and friends find happiness, love and light in their lives during this year, and I hope that as 2019 comes close, people can look back at this year fondly.

However, personally, I want to set my intentions differently. I have my overall hopes and dreams for the year, but I also want to see them materialise, and I want to plan ahead. I know, very deeply, that the universe will always find a way of showing us that it is in charge, no-matter how much we try to plan ahead, but setting my years intentions seems to vague. I am choosing to sit down this evening and think not about the year as a whole, but rather about each month.

As those of you who read my blog will know, I am a student mum, and in my final year; so each month this year brings new challenges and new hopes. Really, I’d like to get into the practice of setting daily intentions, but for now, I think I will stick to this, and see how it goes. Read on for my hopes and dreams (realistic ones of course)…

January: Okay, so this one is a little late, but we are only 9 days into the month, so better late than never right!? This month I move back to university for my last term. I left my flat at uni feeling very worried about this term, I felt like I wasn’t welcome (or at least comfortable) in my own flat, and I was overwhelmed with the amount of work that I had to do. Now that I am back, I am determined not to feel the same. I want to relax with Theo Prana and play with him when he is awake and needs me, and work in the nights if and when I can… I am comfortably co-sleeping and I am actively choosing not to fight against my lack of space, personal time and sleep deprivation: not of it will last forever, and so I will enjoy even the hard parts (as much as I can anyway).

My intention for this month is to let go. I like being in control and so this month I am hoping to learn to let that go a little, and enjoy the time than I can.

February: Dissertation hand in month! Well, it’s my final draft hand in and right now that feels like miles away, so it’s definitely going to be a month of stress … my aim therefore, is to take the stress, put it in a box, and only let it out during work times. I am someone who thrives of a little academic pressure, so this month, I want to put it to use, but also make sure it doesn’t get in the way of Theo Prana’s growth. I don’t want to be distracted!

I am blessed to already know that I get to take 12 days off and go home (work hard but also take a break and be with my mum – we basically share a brain so this is always awesome), aaannnd, my fantastic father is coming to see me again! He will be spending 2 weeks with me, to help me with Theo Prana so that I can work. I know that I am extremely lucky because not everyone would have their dad come and live in their student flat and babysit – he is a star.

March: My final month at uni. And my only month alone (as it stands) so this month my intention is to be strong. I know that I will have work to do, but it will be my last month of lectures so I want to make the most of it, learn a lot, and stay strong while I cope with motherhood and student life. The month is probably going to fly by.

April: Dissertation deadline, a yoga course in Gibraltar, and hopefully my moving out of the flat. This month is going to have an ethos of work, work and more work.

May: Relax! Hopefully Theo Prana and I will be moving in with H, and so we will get some family time. I have a couple of last deadlines in May, but apart from that, I am finally a free agent. I don’t quite know how things will go yet, so this month is up in the air. My goal is to celebrate… literally everything. I want to make the most of every single thing that happens, and be happy, and play with my baby. The month of May is intended as a joyous one.

June: Summer is here. I absolutely love summer, but have no plans for this month. We may end up going home to Gibraltar for the summer, which would be wonderful, but all depends on H’s work, and what we decide as a family.

This month though, I want to take my focus to my yoga practice. I want to start learning and dedicating time every single day to my physical and mental practice. I hope to do this a little sooner, but knowing myself as I do, I feel that setting it as my intention for June is the right way to go.

July: Wow, I can’t believe how close this is – Theo Prana will turn 1 and I will (hopefully) graduate. This month I also want to celebrate life; I want to write more, and learn. Practice both on and off my mat, and swim in the ocean, which sounds exotic but is very normal in Gibraltar so I want to utilise this blessing. This month I want to relive my year with my baby, and write about it, sharing my experience if I can; telling my truth.

August: My baby brother goes to uni (hopefully!). I hope and pray that my brother gets the uni he wants, and that his journey getting there is kind. I will be on hand to help if and when I can, but I know that this will be a big learning curve, so we will be there as support if needed.

This month I want to focus on my family. Keeping practising yoga, and try to introduce Theo into my practice a little more. I want to keep writing and I want to express myself, without worrying what other people may thing.

September onwards: Gosh I don’t know how people do their yearly intentions. Breaking them down has been hard enough and I have guidelines of what should be happening every month. I won’t even pretend that I have set intentions for after the summer because it is much too far away and we will all be different people by then.

I hope that I will be back with H by then, if not fairly soon after, and that we can work on making our little family as happy and secure as possible. I want to make our house a home, and I want to build on my marriage because we really haven’t had a chance to do that yet.

Realistically though, there is no way of knowing what I will want or hope in 8 months time, so I won’t write any more on it.

My intentions for the year are to strive towards happiness. I want to live each day with love and surround my family and friends with light. I want to be strong, and work hard, and I want my baby to be happy and healthy.

They are not extraordinary ambitions; in fact, the more ordinary the better I think (I am inspired by the Dutch in this thinking). I hope that 2018 is a wonderful year, and I hope that it is kind for everyone, but I also hope that it teaches me, and helps me grow. I want to look back and feel fulfilled by the year, knowing that I made the most of everything I could.

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P.S. Photo credit to my Mum’s beautiful friend Gerry. She has done my blessing photos and did a pre-natal shoot with me too!

Why do we romanticise pregnancy?

December 26, 2017July 23, 2020 | Rohana Aisha Dewfall

Why do we romanticise pregnancy?

It is literally such a trauma for the body, and even without complications, a woman’s body is never the same.

I love my son more than life itself, and I would never wish to be without him; he is the reason I wake up in the morning (literally 😂) but that is not to say that having him comes without its costs.

I wish I had known that having a baby would mean my hips stopped working, and that my abdomen would split open, and that getting my butt muscles to work would feel like the challenge of the century to me.

More and more recently I feel that we do women a big disservice by romanticising pregnancy – we should prepare new mothers, not just for the sleep deprivation and the worry that their child is still breathing when they sleep as still as a statue at night, but also for the reality that their body will not ‘bounce back’ for months and sometimes years.

Having a baby is a joy that cannot be described and I would not swap it for the world, but it is not good enough to say ‘you have no idea whats coming’ or ‘you wait and see’. I know everyone’s experiences are different, but I wish we would talk about them and be more truthful than we are. It is not helping anyone to hide the hard bits.

The Carousel Never Stops Turning

December 2, 2017December 2, 2022 | Rohana Aisha Dewfall

Assignments, deadlines, a dissertation… Nappies, teething, and breastfeeding… My life right now seems to be in a constant state of motion.

The hours are sometimes long, but they quickly melt into days, and the days mesh into weeks and months and all of a sudden it’s almost Christmas, my baby turned 4 months and I am wondering where the time has gone.

I go home in less than 2 weeks now and part of me cannot wait… but then there’s also a small voice in my head telling my that I have to do a 2500 word essay, 2 chapters of my dissertation (at least!) and study for an exam in the holidays. Basically my time at home means less time with my baby and much more time to sit and stare at a screen, hoping that I will be inspired to write about globalisation, political economy and NGOs – Theo Prana’s first Christmas is going to be a blur.

That said, I am not complaining – yes it is daunting and I am definitely a little worried about how we will manage, but, I am counting my blessings because there are many. I have a healthy, happy boy, who brings light and laughter to my life every day. He has discovered his feet, smiles so much and is babbling away now; we have our difficult and cranky moments, but our days are full of smiles. I am blessed to have a supportive family, my husband, though not living with us, visits when he can and my in-laws are excited to meet Theo – we were meant to go visit but I was unwell and so it has been left for another time. My friends all love my little one, and he is amazingly well-behaved in my lectures – of course he babbles from time to time, and my focus is never 100% on the learning, but I get to show up and participate with him by my side (or usually sat in the carrier on my front). We have been very blessed to be able to come back and study, and I will always be grateful for that.

A few days ago I felt like I needed the carousel to stop, not indefinitely but just a pause so I could catch my breath. For Grey’s Anatomy fans out there, you’ll know, as I do, that the carousel never stops. It is one of the many things from the show thaf has resonated with me and so I’ve applied to my life. Now tonight, I sit here holding my baby at almost 6am and I have been for a few hours, and in the darkness, even though I am exhausted, I can reflect. I spent a long time watching Theo Prana and admiring this little miracle. He is 4 months old and the time has flown. Sat here I have let my mind wander and tried to remember all the little details of his life so far. He may be young but his life has been full… I want to make sure it stays that way. I want to give him the best possible.

My mum used to say that I could never love her as much as she loves me and I would tell her I did; but now I understand she was right. The relationship I have with my mum is unique and special and I love her immensely. My mum is my person (another Grey’s Anatomy reference), but the love I have for Theo Prana is fierce and whole. I am prepared to do anything for him, and I feel so much sometimes that I think i might burst. Now I understand that even though I love my mum, a mother’s love for her child/children cannot be rivaled.

The carousel doesn’t pause and even though the hard moments feel like they will never end, they do. The carousel turns through the good and the bad and even when it’s tough, the trick is to try to enjoy the ride.

Am I Old And Wise Yet? At 21, Probably Not.

November 9, 2017July 23, 2020 | Rohana Aisha Dewfall

This is a long overdue but fairly short post – because I am much to busy for my own good at the moment.

It is currently 01:19 and I have spent the past 5 hours (intermittently because I had to eat and feed Theo Prana) working on an assignment. I seriously don’t know how I am going to function tomorrow but I know that it will be worth it next year. That said, I take my hat off to my mum who did this for months and years – she has studied for as long as I can remember, alongside her full-time job, being a mum and running a house. Some people have super-powers and to me she is one of them.

I turned 21 last week, well 10 days ago to be precise. It’s strange, I have never had great expectations for my 21st birthday, but I definitely did not envision having a 3 month old baby by this time. Theo Prana is 15 weeks today – in 2 hours actually! For some reason 15 weeks seems like a bigger milestone than 12 did, maybe because he has grown and developed so much recently, or maybe because I think of everything in academic terms and 15 weeks is over a term.

H visited just before my birthday which was super nice, and it was a much more chilled trip than last time because he flew down and had an extra day. Theo was also a lot calmer with him so they has some proper time together, though it is still difficult to really let H have the reins because I am so used to doing everything. Plus, we have a system and it works – I definitely cannot wait to move in with him next year though; things will be a lot different then. It’s weird telling Theo that his daddy is going to visit… it’ll be good to be able to tell him that his daddy is coming home from a work day instead (bonus – he’ll understand me a lot better by then too!).

I got very spoiled actually in terms of people. H left the day before my birthday to go back to work, but my family from Gibraltar flew over on it. My brother was looking at universities so they made a short stop at mine before gallivanting around the UK. It was good to see everyone and I am looking forward to my mums next visit in a couple weeks.

So anyway, I decided that I wanted to do some fun facts about 1996 in this post, but nothing seems relevant… so instead I think I am going to pause and think.

I am a 90’s kid with very litter recollection of the 90’s – but I do know that as I grew up, in my early years and even when I was a pre-teen, my vision of the world was a good one. I know that a lot of stuff went on, but somehow, even though events like 9/11 had the world falling apart, in my small corner of the world, the sun was shinning. My parents did a brilliant job in keeping us informed but not depressed. I want to do the same for Theo, but I wonder with how the world has changed, will it be possible? I think that in a different way it might be… as I grew up, technology was advancing, and once I was in my teens, technology had taken over.

I video call H and my parents, and sometimes my in-laws. I spend hours at a time attached to a screen, for movies, music, and mostly work. Theo has been born into a world where digital technology is a major part of our everyday lives, and in his life, with a student mum who lives away from family, its more prevalent than I would like it to be.

I am conscious of the fact that he will be a toddler who knows how to use a phone – but I am also conscious of the fact that we do have time out, away from the devices. In my uni room I cannot keep my mat out constantly, but when I have my own place with H, I want to cultivate a space, with our mats out, where we can get away from all the media and devices, and we can relax. Today in yoga we talked about the importance of stimulating babies for good brain development, but also the importance of quiet time. In my 21 years I can honestly say that despite my ability to thrive under pressure and my addiction to mental stimuli, I absolutely love sitting by myself and just watching the world, or sitting on my own and watching myself. I have my parents and their encouragement of reading for that, I have learned how to enjoy my own company well; and I want to pass that on.

I am waiting for Theo to get up for a feed; there is very little point in trying to sleep for 20 minutes because I will feel more groggy and the milk will not let down as easily. It is the first time in weeks that I have not slept next to him after his first waking for food at night. I started with the cot almost all night… and I totally get that it is important for him to be comfortable sleeping alone at night – but hes so cute and tiny and it is so very much easier to have him next to me for a cuddle and feed. Half the time, if I don’t cover up, he won’t even wake me to feed (which is brilliant). I know there are many many people who have and will tell me that he will become too attached – but he won’t be co-sleeping at 15, and he won’t be breastfeeding forever; so I am going to make the most of it while it lasts.

I found this photo quote the other day and absolutely loved it. I had been second guessing my decisions to co-sleep and allow him to comfort suckle. He nurses to sleep and I let him… I rock him and I sing to him. I attend to his every cry, and when I can’t (for example when I bring him home and need to bring the pram inside) then it breaks my heart a little. Crying really is communication and I only wish that I was able to understand it better and faster.

Anyway… right on time, he has got up. I am glad to be calling it a night – it has been a long day!

Until the next time (no promises on when that will be).

With A Heavy Heart I Return

October 22, 2017July 23, 2020 | Rohana Aisha Dewfall

I am currently up in the air with another hour left of my flight back to the UK and I would give almost anything to be on the ground at home in Gibraltar instead.

I am going back to a place where my room is everything; my room is my own space and nothing else. Actually, at the moment it feels like even my room is not sacred anymore, it has become a shared space. Because of this, at this precise moment in time, with my baby finally asleep on my lap (he’s not been a happy boy the last couple days), all I want is to fast forward to the part where going home means being greeted by H at the airport, or having him by my side… or in the cases where he’s away, I want to be able to go home to a place we share.

Don’t get me wrong, even though my heart is heavy as I write this, I am not unhappy with my life. I am blessed to have the life I do and I wouldn’t trade it… I am impatient and nostalgic but I am not unhappy. In fact, part of the reason I have decided to write this is to embrace my sadness.

I had a beautiful week at home – I had some quality time with my family; we celebrated Theo’s first Diwali, I caught up with a friend and I got to go to Satsang and see my yoga family (even got a hug from Aunty Nalanie 😊). I have had a brilliant time at home and even though travel is hard, I in no way regret making the trip. My family is my village and they really do make a huge difference in my life. I am sad that the week passed so quickly, but even through this sadness all I need to do is look at the tiny person in my arms and I know that the future holds good things – this trip back to university is a stepping stone.

I am raising a child but I myself am the one who is taking baby steps. Each day and week that passes my little boy grows and reaches his milestones; all the while I am closer to reaching mine… I have a few months left and then I will be finished with my degree. It feels like eons away but the reality is that I’ll soon be writing about my graduation and wondering where the time has gone.

I have a few days until H visits… then my parents are around for a couple days and then I’ll be alone for less than 3 weeks. There is a handful of weeks left until Christmas break. I may be sad to leave Gibraltar today but by this time next month I’ll be packing for home.

Embracing my emotions I will allow myself to feel this today, and then tomorrow, a new day, will be brighter and happier.

Breastpads and Milk Stains; My Breastfeeding Journey

October 4, 2017July 23, 2020 | Rohana Aisha Dewfall

There is of course a major debate encircling the feeding of infants – those who choose to breastfeed are often scrutinised in public for feeding (blog post on this to come at some point) while those who choose to formula feed are judged for their decision.

Personally, I don’t care how you choose to feed your baby – the important thing is that they are healthy and happy – if you decide to breastfeed, brilliant and if not, then that’s great too. At the end of the day, a happy mum generally leads to a happy baby.

That said, from the time I found out I was pregnant, I knew that I wanted to breastfeed. The benefits to my baby included obviously the face that my breast-milk is tailored to him specifically, and that my body would produce exactly what he needed. However, even more so that the health benefits was the fact that formula is expensive, and the reality of bottles and sterilizing etc etc seemed too much of a hassle. My breasts are portable, which means we never run out of milk and (usually) there is very little cleaning.

My breastfeeding journey in many ways has probably been like a lot of first time mums – hard to begin with but it gets better as time goes.

The first few days when I could barely hold Theo Prana were very difficult, and of course despite me ‘demand feeding’, at such a young age, babies don’t really demand to be fed, often they fall asleep on the breast so feeding takes forever and is pretty much a constant. However, within a few weeks, Theo got good at it, and my milk supply was – thankfully – fairly abundant. Feeds went from 30 minutes down to 10 which at first worried me but he gained weight and seemed perfectly happy; he is just a baby that feeds fast.

The downside to my efficient feeder is that sometimes when he goes too fast he chokes himself on the milk, comes off my breasts and gets a free facemask! Often the milk will just keep pouring and spurt everywhere while he gathers himself and latches again – it is quite a spectacle.

Determined as I was, I had thought breastfeeding would be easy. I did not anticipate that there would be milk covered faces and stained shirts, nor did I realise that everything I own would soon smell like breast milk and pretty much everything would at some point also be covered by it. At night I am often woken up feeling cold and find that whatever feeding friendly shirt I’ve got on is soaked through because I’ve leaked… this happens when Theo is feeding too (from the other side).

Solution to leakage anyone? Breastpads right? Nope! I have tried a few different ones now but they are not my friends… and in fact they make feeding more of a hassle than they are worth. I’ve chosen to accept and embrace the milk stains instead. They have become part of the daily routine now.

Speaking of routine, once I came to uni I had hoped we would fall into some sort of one; but as any parent will know, babies don’t do that just because you want them to. Every day is different and while at first I tried the Gina Ford method it soon became clear that we were not going to be able to stick to such a pattern. Demand feeding means that if Theo wants to feed every hour some days but goes for 3 hours on other days then that’s what he does – he is taking the lead and I am trying to listen to him. At night this has meant some nights where we get between 2 – 4 hour stretches but other nights where he’s been up after 45 minutes and wanting another feed … luckily these are a little less common.

Generally he has better nights when he takes a bottle of my expressed milk, at night. He actually seems to prefer it when his bath is over and refuses to breastfeed then. The plus side to this is that my dad has been able to take him for this feed or H could when he visited which allows me a short break and someone else bonding time with baby. I count my blessings that I have the support that I do, and so even on my own with baby, I know that it’s not for very long.

Even though some days he takes 1 bottle and others he takes 2, I am continuing to express as much as possible/needed. I have at least 20oz in my uni freezer and more at home, but I am still primarily breastfeeding Theo regardless of how tiring it may be. My hope is that I will be able to breastfeed for a year if not longer but for now I count my small wins and am taking each day as it comes.

With so much going on I do find it hard to find time to write but more will come about our yoga classes, life as a student and Theo Prana’s rapid growth.

Until the next time, I’ll sign off here.