Finally, they are here! My parents, that is.
If I had wanted and enjoyed my freedom from the parents in the previous year, my roller-coaster of a pregnancy has certainly put me back squarely in the child's role of wanting her parents' love and pampering. So, for the first half of my pregnancy, I felt strangely like a little baby, much comforted by my parents' attention and care, as I was hijacked by bouts of nausea and emotional troughs.
Thus, I guarded my time jealously and wanted to spend all my time with my family. Given that I could not bring myself to go out and face the crowds and risk being assaulted by food smells (they have suddenly taken on a sinister intensity), meeting friends for meal dates was a near impossibility. I wanted to only eat at home, hankering for homecooked food, even though my mum was at her wits' end, given that the list of foods I can no longer tolerate increased by the day. And after every meal, I would have to lie down to keep the food down, before running to the toilet at some point, before crawling back into bed again. And absurdly, I would be hungry all over again in 2-3hours' time.
If those few months were a torture for me, I know it was not any easier for my family or Henry. My mum was worried sick and could not understand why I was still throwing up my food after the first trimester. My dad may not have said much (but then Asian dads seldom betray their feelings), but he would try to help by stocking up the house with bananas, bread and other healthy snacks to fill those sugar-low moments. And my brother would call every night before he comes home from work, to see if I had any cravings and wanted any supper. And finally, Henry would be there, when I fell into crying fits and could not let my parents see.
You can thus imagine why I was reluctant to leave. My family had become my security blanket and was the Known, while UK would be the Unknown. And leaving my dogs behind was another unbearable thought, even if I knew they were in good hands with my parents. It broke my heart to leave them for another year after having already left them behind for one year with my parents when we were in Switzerland.
I remember that my greatest concern about going to UK was food (given that I have established a rather limited list of food items that do not send me helter-skelter to the new frens I love and hate - the sink and toilet bowl.) But more than anything, what am I to do without my family and dogs? They are part of the strong wall that is familiar and protective of me, and when Henry is at work, I would be alone and vulnerable.
[Luckily, I have my sister here and she was and continues to be my pillar of strength in my transition. After 8 years apart, we had a lot to catch up. And she has been most wonderful in being understanding to a very grouchy, pregnant, difficult sister... but more of the sister another time...]
We had a tearful farewell at the airport. And the key thing that gave me strength was that in August, I would see my parents again, when they come to help me with my confinement care after delivery. Every day in UK, I am thankful for technology. Through Skype and Facebook, my mum would be there and would make it a point to show me my dogs. (And now, she makes an effort to read my blog... and she doesn't even really know English! My dear ole Ma - I love you!) Without that daily support, my wait till August would really have not been so easy. And finally, that day is here! I could hardly believe it.
The days before their arrival, I was in a state of excitement. I cleaned the house feverishly. I prepared their room, stocked up on toiletries and thought about all the things we could do together and the places we would see. And then would laugh at myself when I remember that Baby might come any moment and we would just stay at home. But my parents would be here with me! And that is a such a sunny thing! (haha, this is not a proper expression, but somehow it seems perfect for this moment, this thought! :)
I cannot pin down exactly what makes the bonds with parents so special. Is it purely a biological bond? I don't think so; children brought up by foster parents or grandparents would feel this way too. Like all children, I have gone through high and low moments with my parents. I have not always been the most polite or dutiful daughter. I have complained about their nagging or their constant offering of opinions... I have actually secretly relished being away on my first trip away from home, when Henry and I were in America. So, perhaps, the old adage "Absence makes the heart fonder" is true. Perhaps, the distance and time apart have made them more precious to me. Life and time will change our views. After staying away from home in different countries for a few years, one doesV start to appreciate home and family more. Whatever differences, unhappiness or even just a bland neutrality one may have before about one's family, that changes when one is away for long.
But most importantly, age has mellowed us too. As we go through life's journey, one's eyes open and see life's truths anew. What matters most in life is relationships, and familial relationships come above everything else. And at this point, when I am at the cusp of motherhood myself, one starts to ponder and question more about what it means to be parents. And the truth stares at you in the eye - parents love children unconditionally, simple as that. It is not the goodies my parents bring from home, but it is everything else that they have done for me all throughout my life, that has continuously imprinted a constant message of love in my consciousness. And I thank my parents for this lesson, that I may hold this in my heart and do the same as Henry and I embark on our new roles as parents to a new life soon to join us in our life journey.
Feeling somewhat like Persephone, I shall once again treasure and guard my time jealously with my parents. And with what glee, I shall do so! Here's one for the Chongs! =>
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