Tag: my story

  • Mute Again: A Poem

    It’s been a good writing day, I believe I’ve spoken about my Wattpad account before where I have three published works, one super short story Vishal and two poetry-based works Tales of An Introverted Expat and The Silence Inside Me.

    I updated the cover of The Silence Inside Me and added a new poem.

    Cover art by Melanie Wasser on Unsplash

    The title of the poem is Mute Again and I’ll share it here with you.

    Mute Again

    I was doing good, I was talking to the world, my words were finally being heard and I could express my every thought, and then…

    Then I moved.

    To another country where they didn’t speak my language and I didn’t speak theirs.

    I was back at square one.

    I studied every day, I watched all the movies, all the videos, I listened to music, I read so many stories.

    And yet…

    Here I am.

    Mute again.

    Another group of people who don’t understand.
    Another group of people who label me, unfriendly, snobby, shy.

    I want to scream, I’m not shy, I’m not unfriendly, I’m not a snob.

    But once again.

    My words fail me, they stay lodged in the back of my throat, they abandon me when I need them the most.

    I just want to be free.

    Free to speak, free to show my emotions, free to be me.

    But here I am again.

    Locked in my own mind.

    Here I am looking for those who know, those who understand, those who feel as I do, those silent people with so much to say.

    My people.

    Hope you enjoyed it and if you’re interested in reading more you can visit my profile LLDove.

  • My Truths: Learning To Accept My Asexuality

    This is going to be a heavy piece, it will involve speech about molestation, if that’s one of your triggers I’d suggest skipping this post, with that said I’m going to talk about something that I’ve talked a little about before but never in my blog. I want to change that, I want to speak my truth so others can understand certain aspects of my life and how I’ve processed it.

    So, here we go…

    This is a memory that is clear as day in my head even though it happened over twenty years ago.

    Imagine if you will, this thin, small child, five almost six years old, quiet, she doesn’t say a thing. Expressionless the whole day. This vulnerable innocent child was me.

    It was a new school, new people, new everything, I was in first grade and still mute even though they said children are only shy at first. The class was about twenty students maybe more maybe less, the size didn’t important, the children aren’t either, except for two. A boy and a girl.

    I had no interactions with these two, never sat near them, never played with them, but these two affected me in a way nothing else has ever done.

    It was not a normal day, we were not in class, no, we were in the school’s cafeteria. There was an event going on but I can’t remember what it was about, doesn’t matter, I was sitting at a table far away from everyone except for the boy E and the girl K. I can’t remember the names of the other students but I remember these two, I don’t know how I feel about their names, a curious thing, I don’t hate it but I won’t speak it. Ever.

    I don’t know why but K decided to notice me that day, maybe it’s because we were so far apart from everyone else but she was sitting right next to me.

    It’s going to get a bit graphic and I apologize but she stuck her hand under my skirt and fondled me, she pulled her hand out and said: “smell yourself”. I had never had the inappropriate touch talk, no, that came later, so, as you can no don’t tell I was confused and didn’t know what to do. The boy E never touched me but he did not tell her to stop either, instead what he did was laugh and I didn’t understand that either.

    I never told anyone about what happened, not my best friend, not my parents, I think I wanted to forget it ever happened. I buried it so far that I just never thought about it. That is until I was in my early 20s. I was talking to someone about rape and molestation and it was like opening a door. I remembered everything all at once.

    It explained why I had an aversion to being friends with girls, why I never felt comfortable around them, why I felt different from my peers.

    I talked about being The Useless Sibling but now I knew why. I up to this day have trouble accepting hugs and being touched, I still feel a little uncomfortable around women and I honestly don’t feel attraction. I honestly thought I was asexual because I’ve had people I thought were attractive I’ve never envisioned anything other than being friends, I had one or two I’ve called boyfriend but in truth, it was just in name. I have never wanted to be physical with any of them.

    The day I met my husband was like being awakened, it’s corny as hell but I often wondered what it would feel like just to be held. We lived in different countries then so there was no way to find out. The day he asked to visit, I swear I almost fainted, I asked my parents and they were fine. Yes, I still lived at home so when my husband came to visit he met all my family at once.

    That first day was full of nerves, this guy I’d spent two years chatting to was finally here, the first time in my life I felt like a woman and I wanted to explore.

    Demisexual, you don’t feel attraction until you’ve formed a deep connection, I now had an answer for my lack of interest in guys other than being friends.

    On the subject of friends, although I’m still a little uncomfortable, I now have a few women I call friends.

    I won’t allow a girl who was most probably being molested herself to dictate who I can and can’t be friends with.

    Oh, if you’re not following the Facebook page be sure to click the link button below, I had mentioned that I would do a special post for Father’s day so be on the lookout for that.

  • Growth spurts are fun

    It’s almost 3 am and my one-month-old is still fighting sleep, we’ve been battling for a good two hours, she’s been fed, burped, and has a clean diaper. I rock her and her eyes close but as soon as I put her down she cries so I have to start again. I want to cry. I’m running on empty and trying my hardest but it doesn’t seem to be enough.

    Finally, after what seems like forever she settles down and falls asleep.

    It’s 6 am, my husband is getting up to get ready to go to work, and because I’m a light sleeper I’m awake. I’m fatigued and hope I can get back to sleep. It takes a while but I manage it.

    It’s 8 am and my son is waking up, he opens his bedroom door which makes a sound, and wakes me up. I’m bleary-eyed and tired but I know he’ll watch TV and he has everything he needs to make a sandwich so I stay in bed.

    I can’t fall back asleep, I want to so badly but it’s not happening, I pick up my phone and check my notifications, I scroll through Facebook, Instagram, Reddit, and my various genealogy and social sites. The baby is squirming I know she’ll be up soon.

    My son is playing a video game and he’s not winning, I can tell from his anguished screams, my nerves start to fray. It’s 10 am, I think about my life choices and how I ended up here.

    Time passes and the baby is now awake and looking for food.

    It’s time to get up and start our day.

  • Confinement In France With A New Baby

    Hey! Welcome back!

    Today I’m going to talk about being in confinement after giving birth. While I was in the hospital Naveen was on break from school and Marvin was home from work so I didn’t have to worry about who would watch him.

    When I got out of the hospital it was time for Naveen to go back to school but he had a cold so he went one day and was sent home the next and stayed home on Friday. We thought he’ll be fine to go on Monday but then the schools were closed and Naveen never got to go back to school.

    We could still go out at that point so we would go for walks which were important for me since I had to walk for my recovery from the C-section. It was good to be outside feeling the cool air and not being cooped inside the house or stuck in the hospital. I stayed there for a whole week!

    Everything was ok and then we went into confinement, stay home unless you absolutely need to go out, have your attestation of you will be fined, we stayed inside. Naveen didn’t understand why he wasn’t going to school and why we couldn’t go to the park or see his grandparents.

    I tried to explain to him in a way he would understand and I think he got it.

    My husband is still working during the pandemic so it’s just me, Naveen, and Oyanie. Due to Oyanie waking up every two hours at night to eat we usually stay in bed until the afternoon. I try to get a little extra sleep but I’m still so very tired when we get up to go downstairs. Sometimes Naveen comes into the room and lays in the bed with Oyanie and me but he’s mostly up early and downstairs. I try to make sure that he has something to eat and occupy himself with.

    While I’m taking care of the baby I sometimes wonder if I’m neglecting Naveen and try to include him or I’ll put the baby down to give him extra attention. It’s hard having two kids especially now when the baby is so small and needs so much more of my attention.

    Naveen has been a good big brother though, he always asks me if I need help and will bring bottles upstairs for me, reach diapers and wipes, he kisses his sister and wants to hold her.

    He will sometimes feed her so I can make myself something to eat or when I need to do something else.

    I think I’m adjusting well to having two children, especially in these strange times. If I’m being honest I’ve been suffering a bit from being stuck at home, given how my pregnancy went where I was stuck at home with only doctor visits as my time outside it’s only a given that I’d go stir crazy without a reason to go outside. I miss the air and the sun and I wish things go back to normal soon.

    Before I forget to mention it Oyanie made one month on March 22, one month already it seemed like I just had her. Time is going by so fast.

  • My C-section experience

    Welcome back!

    Today I’m going to talk about my C-section experience.

    When I found out I only had two options either attempt a breech birth or have a C-section I was numb, I researched breech births like crazy and they are such a gamble. “What if my baby’s head got stuck in my pelvis?” this was the biggest question on my mind and I just wasn’t comfortable with the idea that it could happen.

    I asked my husband what he thought the C-section was the better choice.

    It was decided, I’d have a C-section, sure there was a chance that the baby could turn down on her own but there was a bigger chance of me going into labor with her still being breech. A scheduled C-section was the way to go.

    February 20 and we’re in the hospital for a routine check-up, they check to see if the baby had turned but she was still breech, here is where it gets crazy…

    The doctor calls in for me to have my C-section tomorrow!

    I thought I would have more time to get used to the idea and read up on aftercare and all that but no, they just drop that bomb on me.

    I’m not going to lie but I cried, I was scared, I had to stay in the hospital and wait for my C-section.

    There I was in a room all alone with so many thoughts going around in my head. I was not expecting this and I didn’t know how to handle this situation. I tried to relax as much as I could and get some rest.

    It’s the next day and I’m waiting for my husband to arrive, the nurses came into the room and wheel me down to check if the baby is still breech, she’s still in her cozy spot under my ribs, I’m wheeled back to my room and told to shower with Betadine.

    I’ve showered and in the hospital gown when my husband and mother-in-law arrive, now we wait for them to take me to the Operating Room.

    We wait and we wait but nobody is coming, finally, in the afternoon someone comes and says that there were emergencies so my C-section won’t happen today. I’m spending another night in the hospital alone.

    Here I am again, another morning full of nerves waiting to get taken to my first surgery, nurses come and go, I’m waiting for Marvin to arrive, I’m terrified of being taken to the OR without him, a nurse comes to the room and tells me I’ll go in the afternoon, all I can do is sit and watch the clock.

    Marvin walks into the room and I’m relieved, I won’t be alone after all! I let him know that they said the operation was going to be in the afternoon. So we wait.

    A little afternoon two male nurses come to wheel my bed down to the OR, they take me down corridors, into the elevator, and finally, to the OR waiting room, Marvin wasn’t allowed in and I wouldn’t see him again until I was taken into the actual OR.

    While I’m in the waiting room the nurses are asking me questions and getting me ready for the operation. All this time I don’t know where Marvin is or if I’ll see him before the C-section.

    The nurses transfer me from my bed to this table like a gurney and wheeled this into the OR, I see Marvin and the nurses start prepping for the surgery.

    It’s time to get the spinal and I’m shaking, it’s a needle in my spine, with my needle phobia I’m a wreck. I have to bend really far forward and they warn me that I’d feel a prick. It was like a bee sting, this was followed by pressure and they lay me down. I started to feel a cool sensation in my lower region, my feet felt heavy but I could still wiggle them a bit. I was scared I was going to feel them cutting into me.

    Up went the curtain, a cap was placed on my head, oxygen was put into my nose, I felt detached from my surroundings. I guess somewhere in my floating they placed a catheter because I did not feel it at all.

    I’m just there watching the blue curtain and occasionally feeling a tug on my body when I hear a baby cry, I’m almost in tears but I hold it in. I cried enough.

    They bring her around the curtain and place her next to me.

    My daughter was out, the first thing I thought was that I wouldn’t feel her head in my ribs anymore.

    Now they’re going to stitch me up, I watch Marvin walk off with the baby and it was back to staring at the blue curtain until they finished. They roll me out of the OR and quickly transfer me back to my bed.

    They want me to move my feet but they won’t cooperate. I feel like I’m in Kill Bill, I kept telling myself wiggle your big toe. I’m not sure how much time passed but finally, I could move my toe and then my feet, once I could move both my legs it was back to my room.

    Once back in my room I see Marvin and Oyanie waiting for me.

    I’m still not feeling my lower region completely and a nurse removed the catheter, I’m supposed to get up and pee on my own.

    My legs feel like rubber and they’re shaking like crazy but I managed to stand up with the help of the nurse, I’m unable to pee so she makes me drink a lot of water and promises to return in an hour.

    An hour passes and the nurse is back, she helps me stand again and once more I try to pee, this time it’s a success.

    During all of this, my incision is painful and I’m taking all the meds they give me.

    I can’t help but compare it to my vaginal delivery and wish I had been able to have another one.

  • Transversal Baby And A Failed ECV

    I originally posted this on my Facebook page so I’m reposting it here.

    Hey guys, I was going to write this post like two days ago but my baby seems to hate sleeping at night right now and I’m seriously suffering from sleep deprivation. It’s afternoon and I’m still in bed where she’s laying on my chest finally sleeping. Since she made a month she’s been in a growth spurt and I know it won’t last long but for now, it’s rough.

    So, today I’m going to talk about finding out that my baby was breech and going for an ECV or External Cephalic Version. An ECV is where they try to flip the baby by pushing on your stomach. ECVs are not always successful and there are risks involved but you can say at least you tried.

    I was about 36 weeks when I heard the word siège, I didn’t know what that was so when I got home I googled it. Bébé en siège is the French term for a breech baby, I already knew that she wasn’t head down because I could feel her head on my left side and in my ribs when she turned. Let me tell you feeling the baby’s head in your ribs is not pleasant at all. Sometimes it felt like she was pulling my ribs apart. I avoided laying on my stomach because that made the pain worse.

    So my baby is breech, I had four options, try an ECV, wait for the baby to turn down by herself, attempt a breech birth, or go for a C-section.

    We opted to try the ECV, I was 37 weeks at that time, I went into labor at 37 weeks with my son so I was a little afraid that I’d go into labor before the ECV. The baby stayed put and we went to the hospital, they had me change into a gown and lay on a hospital bed. I was given pain meds because an ECV can be uncomfortable.

    The doctor came in and tried to explain to me what she was going to do, my French isn’t the best so I didn’t get everything but I understood the gist of the situation. She verified that baby was still in the breech position and attempted the ECV. It was painful, she dug her fingers deep into my stomach and tried to turn baby but because the baby was tucked up into my ribs she couldn’t move her. I was so happy she didn’t try again because I didn’t think I could take that pain for a second time.

    They kept me for an hour or two so that my stomach could stop contracting. Going into labor is one of the risks of doing an ECV.

    With this failed ECV I only had three options left, wait for the baby to turn on her own, attempt a breech birth, or have a C-section.

    I was terrified of having a C-section and the risks of a breech birth were scary. I went home and tried all kinds of exercises that were supposed to help the baby turn down but none of them worked. My baby was content to be up in my ribs and I knew that I would most likely end up having a C-section.

  • Dealing With A Hyperemesis Gravidarum Pregnancy And Gestational Diabetes

    Hey guys, like I promised I’m going to talk a little about everything that’s happened since my break from writing.

    Today I’m going to talk about being diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes.

    So I never had to do the glucose test with that awful drink, with my Hyperemesis Gravidarum there’s no way I’d have been able to do it, instead, I had to do a blood test and when we got the results my midwife said the sugar level in my blood was pretty high which could indicate Gestational Diabetes. She was going to ask a colleague to take a look and that was that.

    About a week or two weeks later I had an appointment at the hospital and there I was officially diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes. I was shocked. Here was this nurse telling me I had to stick my fingers 4 times a day and check my blood sugar before and after eating and I couldn’t eat a lot of my favorite foods. I have a deep fear of needles so this was not something I was looking forward to or even sure I would be able to do. My only relief was that I didn’t have to inject myself with insulin I just had to try to maintain the Diabetes with a diet change.

    So we home with a bag full of items I’d need to check my blood. I felt defeated like I was already suffering from Hyperemesis and pubic pain and now my body was punishing me with Gestational Diabetes. Like everything else in this entire pregnancy I had no choice but to get on with it because my baby needed me to do it and I was not going to lose this baby too.

    The first week was hard, I was so afraid of the needle that I asked Marvin to do it, he complied and I felt like the biggest wuss. It wasn’t painful at all but I will wasn’t sure I could do it myself but I had to because Marvin had to work and I had to check my levels before and after lunch.

    I had to get over my fear, I learned to just go with the flow and prick my finger, it really wasn’t that bad after all.

    The diet change was the toughest part of this thing, I couldn’t eat this or that and sometimes I’d get a spike in blood sugar eating something that was fine the previous day. I have never eaten so many green things in my life, so many unsatisfying meals.

    The following week we were back in the hospital and I was put on insulin, my worst fear realized, I would have to inject myself with insulin. You have no idea how much this terrified me, I would literally shake while trying to inject myself that I was afraid I’d break the needle in my skin.

    Like with the finger pricks I had to do it and I gradually became a pro at it.

    In the end, I can say it was worth it as Oyanie was born at a good size and had no blood sugar issues.

  • Recap Of My Pregnancy: Hyperemesis Gravidarum, Gestational Diabetes, Transversal, And More!

    It’s been a while since I posted on here so let’s do a quick recap of all that has happened.

    I’ve updated this post to link to the relevant posts about these topics:

    • Found out I had Gestational Diabetes
    • Found out the baby was breech/transversal
    • Was put on insulin
    • Tried to change baby’s position, it failed
    • Had a C-section
    • Country went into lockdown

    As you can see it’s been a pretty wild ride. Since we are in lockdown I’ll be writing about each of these instances with a little more information.

    Some of the things that didn’t make it into the posts were the fact that I fell down the stairs…

    I also passed out at one of my midwife appointments, I pissed myself while throwing up, and I am never doing this again.

    Here’s to the coming weeks of isolation and writing!

  • Stuck on Sick: My third Hyperemesis Gravidarum pregnancy

    It’s official, I’ve been stuck on bed rest since 4w5d and I’m now 6w5d. I’ve passed every hour of every day either throwing up, stuck on a continuous loop of nauseated, or sleeping the sleep of the undead.

    Yes, we’re pregnant again and yes I’m suffering once more from Hyperemesis Gravidarum.

    I knew better, I knew I would never be able to experience pregnancy like a happy person, I knew I’d be sick every waking hour. I have so many boxes and boxes of medications and I’m still so sick.

    My lips are dried and peeling, my skin is dry as is my hair.

    This is my third pregnancy dealing with this and I don’t know what I was hoping for but I definitely didn’t find it. I’m so close to the mark where we lost the last one that I just decided to come out with it.

    If you’re local to me chances are you will not see me again until after the birth. I can barely climb the stairs in my own home.

    I don’t know who you are unborn baby but I’m trying everything I can to meet you.

  • The Useless Sibling

    The Useless Sibling

    Hey guys,

    Today I want to talk about something that has always bothered me.

    Ever since I was very young I’ve always viewed myself as the useless sibling. I have two older sisters who were obviously intelligent, they got good grades they were Salutatorian and Valedictorian of their classes, I also have three younger brothers who are also obviously intelligent, graduating with High honors, internship, also Sal/Val of their class, and then there’s me.

    Quiet, can’t speak in school, trouble with bullies, terrible grades, held back twice, nothing really special. I didn’t graduate with honors and I didn’t go to college, I am the useless child. Every parent must have a dud and I always knew it was me.

    When I was younger you could go to Wendy’s for a free meal with your report card and for whatever reason my father always brought me along to see my siblings get their free meals and he would buy nothing for me. I’d sit there and watch them eat and feel out of place.

    He’d also do this with toys, I got nothing while they got something new to play with. I never really blamed my siblings, I blamed myself for being too dumb to understand the work, too dumb to be able to speak.

    My mother probably didn’t know about this and I know if she did she would have bought me something even if it was something small and tiny. She never let me feel useless until that one year she said to me “if you get good grades, I’ll buy you that doll you wanted”, I worked my ass off and I didn’t get that doll, sold out is what she told me.

    I think that was the same year my youngest brother was born and my grandmother, my mother’s mother passed away. I remember not feeling anything really, I didn’t cry, I didn’t understand why others were crying but when I saw my mother break down I felt it, I cried because my mother was crying. I loved my grandmother and I have very fond memories of her but I just don’t feel emotions like other people.

    That was also the very first year I was held back, I stopped trying, I stopped caring, my first experience with depression but nobody noticed. They said I was being difficult and willful. Nobody saw me.

    I used to have a very best friend that I’d eat with hanging out every chance I got and the very next year we stopped hanging out and I’d sit by myself on the stairs in front of my classroom. I didn’t have any friends, I didn’t eat lunch, my thought was not the best and I didn’t know how to change them.

    It’s not to say some of my classmates didn’t try, they did, they invited me to sit with them under a mango tree, they’d share a little of their lunches with me and talk around me. Never to me because everyone knew I didn’t talk. I barely even smiled or showed any emotions.

    For my entire young life, I felt out of place like I couldn’t understand my peers, they were all speaking a language I just didn’t know. I tried to emulate them, I tried to have crushes like the other girls and copy their mannerisms and what I thought their thought patterns might be but it was like playing a part I had no business trying out for.

    In Jr. High my second year of 7th grade after being held back yet again I encountered a teacher that challenged me. According to one of my older sisters, she was in the woman’s class all of one day but this woman would constantly call me by my sister’s name and it chafed because I had my own name. This woman would also make fun of students who did poorly and I was not going to let her make fun of me, she was going to know my name. Mine, not my sister’s but mine.

    I got into honors that year, I spoke for the first time that year, my grandfather, my father’s father passed away that year. My mother was pregnant with my baby sister that year, 9/11 happened that year and my mother lost my baby sister that year.

    It was a catalyst for me and I let everything push me into doing everything I could to get out of school.

    It didn’t matter. My father still didn’t acknowledge what I had accomplished, I was still the child that couldn’t speak and couldn’t make it in the real world because I was filled with so much anxiety I couldn’t do half the things my siblings could.

    It’s amazing how much your parents can hurt you without knowing they did or maybe he knew exactly where to inflict the worst pain.

    He’s such a confusing person, he says these cruel things but then he took me out for my birthday just me and him and he bought me a birthday gift that I never thought he would. We’d go out to the movies together and we argued yes but it seemed like only the two of us did these things. My father was like me.

    He was filled with anxiety and he didn’t know how to express his emotions.

    As I got older I learned more about him just by observing him and I am so much like him not just in looks but in temperament.

    All those times when he’d sit by himself away from others, I understand it now, he looked so cut off from us because he didn’t know how to interact with us.

    When he’d want to leave or not go to a social function, I fully understand it. I hate social functions and how it drains me.

    His special hobbies, his desire for a schedule, I do all of this as well.

    I felt like I was looking for his approval and never got it but I was the only one he’d call to help him, the only one he showed a little attention in, I think my father understood me just a little better than I understood myself back then.

    That saying he kept saying to me? That I’d never go anywhere and be able to survive in the real world?

    I took it to heart and pushed myself, I left home and traveled internationally, I got married and I might still struggle socially but I function on my own level.

    I might not be as academically fortunate as my siblings but I am not the useless sibling, I made my success in personal battles and I accomplished my own great things.

    Thanks for reading a tiny bit of my story.