And man I wish I could be writing in this today saying that life has been nothing but rainbows and butterflies since I last wrote in this 6 years ago…. but that wouldnt be 100% correct.

So where do I start? Well my beautiful son Nikau is now 7 years old and around the time of him turning 5 well his health hit an all time low. Positive, is we finally worked out why he had hit close to 30 hospitalizations by this point. Negative, is well it cant be fixed, managed yes, but again with alot of trial and error medication some of which is not covered financially so moneys tight for this single mama, the medications makes nikau more tired, less active and around the same time as he was mentally excited to be starting school, making new friends he was physically at his weakest and issued a wheel chair. I was guttered and fought with the hospital saying he didnt need it. Turns out I was wrong, at the time he did need it, I just wasnt ready to accept that my love for this human couldnt make him any better. But i dug deep, put on my smile and pushed through the many many hospital clinics, CT, MRI scans and bloods test to be both the best mum and fierce protector of him I can be. And man its a journey, some days im good, at peace with knowing this mama journey will have its extra challenges and well other days I go into a selfish place in my heart where Im angry at the world for not blessing me with a healthy son, with a happpier first mama experience and always questioning myself on whether i made him sick, whether i could have prevented his condition. Years later his pediatricians have shown me untold evidence that his condition is not genetic or could have been prevented but despite the evidence i still feel responsible. A main agenda on my personal shitty committee that keeps me up from like 4am most mornings. This committtee topic is usually the second place contender to the same first place agenda since late 2017… one that i have never said aloud that i am petrified to put down on paper because even thinking about it makes me cry and sick to my stomach.

That is that, I left my unborn child in Madrid! What evil person does that? me! The women writing this, the one that found herself pregnant after believing she had miscarried, went back to her job in a Muslim country where I couldnt be pregnant without being married. So yeah when I realised i still had pregnancy symptoms I used a work trip to Madrid to see a womens clinic and after an internal assessment she tells me in broken English, that there were 2 sacks, 1 baby good but small and well other… gone. (That was the “bleeding” I had experienced back in NZ!).

It was a surreal feeling, mixed with happiness I was to be a mama along with immense saddness that I had been with twins yet one didnt survive! I cried, a real ugly, whaling cry a sound I never knew I could make and a sound I never hope I make again. It scared me, I felt broken! But what followed next is the making of my nightmares, where the female Dr removed the sack and after what seemed like an eternity comes back to me with a paper bag asking if i wanted to take it with me. I sat there crying… knowing as much as everything in my being wanted to take this part of me home to NZ to bury in our beautiful whenua, I was around 20,000kms from NZ, from my place of safety, from the place I was able to be pregnant without being married, where I could have this bag, my other baby (Kauri- is what i refer in my heart to him as), without the judgement, or without risking being arrested. But the reality was… I was in Spain for a few more days then flying back to the country where i would be arrested if I carried this bag and then bring danger to the baby i had inside me. So I took the only option I had which was to leave that clinic with him there…

It was during these days I was thankful I could disassociate from the world, i didnt know a soul in Madrid and I had a room to myself where i stayed for days and screamed and cried into my pillow to muffle the sound, hide the heart break and then leave Madrid to focus on being the best mum I could to the baby I could take home with me, inside of me!

So whilst I still wake with the shitty committee reminded me of his loss and leaving him I use that to fuel my strength each morning to remind myself of the deal i made with myself, all those years ago in Madrid that I will put all my effort into being the best mama to the miracle I had left- my son Nikau. Its what i go to, when things are hard… gratitude for him, im forced to change my perspective to get through the hard times and its the core of why I firecely protect Nikau.

So yeah… thats enough vulnerability or agenda reading of my shitty committee. Those two items are big, sad, very loud at times and ones that I know I will need to challenge and silence probably all my life. But Im hoping in sharing them today as I write this through the tears… my pain will be less, next time I proof this, then less again when I re-read over. And less again if anyone else reads this and asks me questions or comments on these points. This identifying of my shitty committees 4am main points is me being intentional about being vulnerable, admitting my sadest moments, acknowledging the pain, practising my own exposure therapy and ideally help silence my committee of atleast these two points in years to come!

Well thats the hope anyway!

Much aroha always, whoever reads this… Bee x

Being a mama in general is a challenge and a half each day. But being mama to a sick baby is a whole other level. Nikau’s health was perfect up until he was 7 months old. From then on he has had constant issues with his lungs and our hospital admissions is currently sitting on 8 in the last 9 months.

The first time he got sick it came on so fast. He was fine in the morning, running nose a few hours later and cough a few hours after that. Then all downhill- vomiting, diarrhea, off his food and milk and the scariest symptom of all- struggling to breathe. It was there I took him straight to the hospital and he was admitted into ICU. Those days in there connected to the heart monitor and breathing machine seemed like an eternity. To watch your baby laying there so weak and fragile is a grueling feeling of sadness, uselessness and guilt. The million questions of- could i have done something different to prevent this? Or was it because of something i did or didn’t do go over and over in your mind drowning the sounds of the hospital room and keep you awake for days straight by your baby’s side. My heart broke for son and all that mattered was that he get better. Up there in ICU you loose track of days and time and as thankful you are that visitors come to see baby and support you, I also had a overwhelming sense of shame that my son had ended up in there and in that state. After a few days of Nikau relying on the machines to breathe for him he slowly regained his strength and eventually he was transferred back to the childrens ward for 4 more days. It was and is a tough gig being a mama at a hospital bedside. You sit or stand hunched over to your pepi. You have to juggle toilet visits to when baby is asleep and in between dr and nurses check ins. You need to keep your energy and strength up for when bubba gets better and has that energy again for you to keep up. All these important tips that as a first time mama with a sick baby you dont know in the start. But after 8 admissions you get to know all the tricks of the trade. Like what signals of struggled breathing to look for, to always go with a packed bag for you and baby for atleast a week as that is how long you are usually there for, to know what to pack, to know what to say and ask of the hospital staff and to not rush to be discharged for your own sake but accept that when baby is sick- the hospital is the best place for him.

Don’t get my wrong I still struggle with letting extended whanau know when Nikau is sick as every time he got sick I was overwhelmed with guilt that I was to blame but I think that comes with the nature of being a mama. But the balance between letting him play around other kids or outside and keeping him healthy is hard. And some months saw us admitted twice in one month and other months with no admissions. Its a tricky one.

Having a Bronchiolitis baby you come to realise how common it is and how for some babies they are just unlucky and it is reoccurring but you learn to dress your little one in wool and feed them kai packed with antioxidants to try and boost their immune systems. You make the most of sunny days outside and spend cold and windy days doing in door activities. For me its part of Nikau mama life now and if he does end up asthmatic as they suspect he will that will also be part of Nikau’s journey and we will learn to manage that also as being a mama requires such resilience and perseverance and in time the rollercoaster of mamahood will be just as windy but wont seem so scary or bumpy. Agghhhh the joys of this life… I swear I tell every mama I have met, this is a job like Ive never had before! Haha its a challenge and a half everyday but hey we get through it. Mama truly are super human!!!

Well theres no point leaving you in suspense, the given reason behind Daves disappearing act? He had been busy celebrating the birth of his new son. Now now I know what your thinking, because yes it was exactly what I thought when i was finally given a reason… Celebrating for four months? The answer- Yes! Turns out Nikaus father and his family loved having a reason to celebrate and this was a great reason- Nikau had been born.

Sorry guys I wish I had more or a valid reason to give you, geeze I wish I had been given a more validated reason for myself, for my sanity and most importantly- for my son. But no, that was that. It turns out Son and I came with responsibilities that Dave wasn’t wanting in his life and instead he wanted to live life as he choose, doing what he wanted and when he wanted.

So in the meantime, Im not going to sugar coat it. I struggled and fumbled my way into mama life and at times felt on top of the world and at other times felt at the bottom of the world. I made friends with other mama who would make me feel more, well ‘normal’ i guess with all the new encounters I was coming across on this new journey, which was comforting. But it was still hard.

A big part of why it was difficult was because of sleep. Well more so the lack of sleep. I mean people tell you that when you have a baby you hardly sleep, but hey I had pulled many all nighters in my university days so I thought I knew what no sleep was, but boy was I wrong!. Pulling an all nighter here and there was nothing like feeling you had pulled an all nighter for months on end. This was a whole new level of tired. Actually it was a whole new level of everything. Needless to say it was overwhelming. Overwhelming in the sense of loving something or someone moreso then you ever loved someone before. But also scary overwhelming with the pressures of being responsible, solely responsible for this love and this human who is now your everything. It was alot.

There was also this naivety of thinking your professional skills could and would transfer to this new role of motherhood. However, none of the skills I had built in my 8 or so years of teaching had prepared me for mama hood. Nope, I didn’t feel like I was succeeding, I was no longer ticking the boxes and as someone who was always punctual, I was now never on time. These realities needed addressing and at around Nikau being 5 months old I sought help from a Psychologist.

As scared as I was to admit that I may have Post natal depression I was also aware that I needed help adjusting to this new life and I knew that I wanted to be in the best mind space I could be in for my son. He needed and deserves the best mum possible- so accepting help through group therapy is what I did. And it helped me immensely. Don’t get me wrong, group sessions were heavy and in the early weeks I dreaded going but the skills I learnt on self care, communication and bonding built my confidence and calmed my feelings of being overwhelmed. The other mothers within group I met and formed relationships with were integral to my progress as we pushed through the journey together and we got there.

Now over 8 months later these same women are all so happy and are beautiful mothers!

Im so very glad I reached out for help, that I didn’t pretend I was coping and that I was vulnerable to open up and admit my struggles.

If theres one thing I can tell any mothers reading this that feels overwhelmed or unsteady…. tell someone, reach out, find an organisation to help you because mama life is tricky to navigate and so building your little toolbox of tricks is a must.

Now with Nikau being 14 months old it is that toolbox that has seen me through struggles with breastfeeding, regular issues with Nikaus father, navigating work and mama life and Nikau having 8 hospital admissions to date with respiratory issues. So yes that toolbox has been well used but one that Il always have with me now on this journey.

Mamas this is a tough gig, but then there are those times that make it all worth it. Those times that only you notice, those ahhh moments when you and your baby connect on a whole new level that make the world stop and you just so happy. I know you all have those moments. When you feel so connected you feel a tear form in your eye. Those are the moments that get us, those are the times you feel accomplished, those are the times that make you feel a million dollors and those are the special moments I hope Nikau remembers as he grows.

Life back in New Zealand was exactly what I needed it to be… chilled, laxed and calm. For the first few weeks i started buying things and just getting room sorted for my son who was to come in 3 months.

Things were bliss for a short moment. However within a month I started having complications with babies growth and my bodies ability to give baby what he needed to grow. This was a mixture of blood pressure issues, my placenta and my leaking of protein. So the due date became earlier and earlier to ensure a safe delivery. This made me extremely anxious as I had banked on those last 3 months to have time to not only physically prepare for son but also to mentally prepare for the fact that I was to be a mama. But instead my time last semester of pregnancy was spent every second day going into hospital for bloods, urine tests, scans and monitoring. Then I would need to wait for the results to say whether I would be able to go home that night or stay in for monitoring. It was alot but it didnt matter as all that did matter was that my baby was ok.

So around 36 weeks I was booked in to be induced within that month. I was told son would be small but would be healthy enough and shouldn’t need scabu. My sister and sister in law threw me an earlier baby shower than was planned and it was so lovely. I had set the room up, washed and hung up all his clothes and packed my bag for the hospital. Most importantly I had my ‘how to be a mama’ books all ready to go for my waiting time at the hospital.

On the morning of my induction day the ribbon with the hormone on it was inserted to kick start the procedure… I was explained how the procedure would take about 3 days and that once the labour was in full motion I would be given an epidural. Until then it was a waiting game. This was all fine with me as I had books to read anyway hahaha.

A few hours of monitoring and they decided to do an internal check to check the cervix. The dr confirmed that this labour would not be happening any day soon and to just rest up. So my family left, I let my midwife know and I got to reading my books. A few pages in and Dave shows up, I let him know how baby wouldnt be here for a few days but he insisted to stay, so he did.

Later that evening, I started to feel something… like niggles I guess but I wasnt sure. I messaged my mum that reassured me that if i was in labour it would be alot more than niggles I was feeling. So I ignored the feeling and decided to rest instead.

A few hours later a nurse came in and I told her the slight uncomfortableness I was feeling and she asked me my pain threshold on a scale of 1-10. I said a 2 or 3, but that there was some pain. She in a snarky way told me I was not in labour and that I probably wasnt even in pre labour. I wont lie, I felt pretty stupid and embarrassed as it was obvious she thought I was just being a drama queen. So i decided to just get ready for bed and stop bothering the nurses with my uncomfortableness.

Within the hour I needed to unhook myself from the baby heart monitor as I had this urge to go toilet. Whist i was on there I felt uneasy and then i felt the ribbon come out. I made my way back to the bed and asked Dave to let the nurse know what had happened. They came and explained how that can happen sometimes and that the dr will come back in the morning and replace it. I was disappointed as now i had to start this whole procedure again tomorrow. I let them know that I was still uncomfortable and how the heart monitor kept loosing baby and it required me to keep moving it around. The nurse seemed annoyed at me and said fine we will do another internal check and then IF I am dilated enough they can put a monitor inside me to monitor me so I could sleep. I thanked them as they started the check.

Within seconds the nurse checks and then pushes the emergency button, she puts the stirrups up on the side of the bed and says that baby’s head is right here and he is distressed and I need to get him out straight away. I was frightened, how could this be? I wasn’t even in labour or pre labour. I go to start to cry but the nurse tells me to stop and just push. I tell dave to ring my parents and tell them I need them. I push twice and then hear baby cry, third push and the placenta was out. No epidural, no midwife, no parents but a few nurses, me and Dave and now our baby! It was a whirlwind… within 20mins I went from being told i was not in labour to having my healthy son in my arms.

When my parents waltz in 10 minutes later thinking they were just coming in to see me, to instead being greeted by their grandson- they were shocked. I remember saying- “he just came out”. It was a whirlwind but I was just thankful he was ok and he was… the healthiest and most beautiful thing I had ever laid my eyes on. I feel in love immediately.

The next few days was a mixture of quiet bonding time with our son, learning how to feed him and just be a mum along with many visitors and the retelling of the crazy birth story.

A few days later I was ready to go home, I wont lie I was not happy with how the birth went. I felt frustrated that nobody had listened to me when i tried to tell them I had pain. I felt bad that because of that my parents and my grandmother missed the birth that they had looked forward to and I wanted them there also. I guess i just felt unvalidated with that whole process but I had to put that aside and focus on my son and us being a little family.

Dave excited drove us back to my parents that day and it felt amazing to be home and in my own surroundings. I was excited and happy to start our own little routines in our home. I was nervous as those books on motherhood i had taken with me to the hospital came back with all but one unread. But that didnt matter now, i felt ok knowing that at nights my family would be home to help and guide me and in the day Dave would come out and we could perfect parenting together. However, that reality was not to be, instead Dave dropped us off, insisted hed be back in a few hours and never drove back into our driveway again. It would actually be a few months later until I even heard from him again and 4 months later until we saw him again.

Back in Dubai I got back into the swing of work pretty quickly and there had been no communication between Dave and I since leaving New Zealand, that was to be expected given how things ended and despite how the summer had ended I could look back on the summer and remember it as mostly a beautiful time.

All was well until a few weeks later I started feeling ‘off’ and i struggled to stay up working late in the night as I was so tired come the afternoons. I ploughed on with work and after 2 weeks of not feeling any better I came across a spare unopened pregnancy test that I had from back in New Zealand and even though I knew there was no way i could be i decided to take the test. I set it aside in the bathroom and made the decision I would take it after work. That day i struggled to focus at work in knowing what awaited me at home. Surely I couldn’t be! How could that even physically be possible? I had a miscarriage! If I am, what will happen to me, would i be fired? Or worse arrested? I was petrified!

When I got home that afternoon I procrastinated for an hour or two freaking myself out and crying. Shakingly I decided to just take the test…. those minutes of waiting seemed like a lifetime and eventually two lines…. PREGNANT!

At that moment i remember jumping with excitement yet cried with anxiety. I was so excited, happy, confused, nervous and scared all at the same time. At that moment I had no idea what to do, I was even nervous to google anything on what happens to unmarried pregnant women in the UAE in case my phone connection was monitored. Looking back I can see how that paranoia would seem crazy but as an ex pact I had heard the horror stories. I wont lie I was so scared of being imprisoned I didnt sleep that night.

The next morning I went straight to my bosses office and told him. He was excited for me as I cried, then he clicked… ohhh we’re in Dubai. That is an issue. But dont worry, you cant tell anyone but you can stay as long as you want.

Those words lifted the heavy weight i felt on my shoulders. That is what I needed to hear. As difficult as it was going to be to not shout my happy news off the roof of the school building, like I wanted to, that is when being excited because my secret. Not my best kept secret I may add as I ended up telling a small group of friends so I had some sort of support over there- but for the most part I told no one.

This was so hard as I always thought Id be that pregnant chic that would share every scar photo with every social media site, but due to my circumstances that just wasn’t possible. What else wasnt possible was for me to go see a dr anywhere in the whole region. So a month after this positive test I flew to see a gynecologist in Barcelona, Spain whilst there at a teachers conference.

She confirmed I was pregnant I asked her how and her theory is that I originally was carrying twins and had miscarried one but not the other. This baby became my silenced miracle.

On return from Spain with the confirmation my boss told me he had an easy solution. I go back to New Zealand and marry Dave and then I could just stay in Dubai and have baby and all would be fine. For a while I agreed and made the arrangements to be married to someone I wasnt even with! crazy? Nah! Well at the time of flying back to NZ for the registry office wedding I didnt think so, but in the last hour I realised it was and flew back to Dubai unmarried.

In the end I managed to work and live in Dubai pregnant yet undetected for 6 months. Sure it was risky, I needed to travel to Europe or New Zealand for scans and I had let those privy to my circumstance make sure no matter what I was not to be taken to a hospital. To be extra safe I gave up driving myself and instead took a lift or ubers everywhere. I never brought a single baby item incase someone saw. And many times I vomited into my coffee cup to cover the constant morning sickness that would catch up with me right at those times I was standing in front of 20 or so students. It was difficult to not touch my stomach when I first felt him move but within my apartments four walls I would make up for it by holding my stomach, talking, singing and reading to baby. I was excited and when I first contacted Dave to tell him I was in fact pregnant to him, he too was happy. Well thats what he said.

For those first 6 months of my pregnancy I did alot of covering up and hiding of my happiness. The day I left Dubai I left alot of wonderful people/ colleagues in the dark as to why i was leaving. I left my amazing students who had come to believe I was dying…. teenagers- assume the worst. As hard as it was to leave there I was just so excited to move back home- tell the world I was about to have a baby by the time I had landed I had my post ready to announce to the facebook world…

Two days ago I decided to create a blog site- if thats what its called. I had, actually still have no idea what a blog really is and googling “what is a blog” hasn’t made it any clearer, but all I know is that I feel I have a story to tell so I will tell it.

As my first blog of what I hope will be a few, I think I should start by giving some background of myself and my blog. Im Bee and am a 33 year old Maori wahine who up until Feb 2018 lived and taught overseas in International schools teaching in the International Baccaulaureate curriculum . I taught Psychology and a bit of History, Philosophy and general social science. I felt blessed in that I could combine my two passions of teaching Psychology and travel by teaching overseas. Since 2016 I had been teaching in a private international school in Dubai which although was very cut throat and demanding in comparison to teaching in New Zealand, I thrived on that environment and it enabled me to be the best teacher I have ever been in my nearly 10 year career. I have always been career driven and not afraid to take risks in life.

Fast forward to Sep 2017, I had just been back in New Zealand during my summer months off work and I had just spent the most amazing summer with Dave, travelling to the tip of the North Island and having little mini trips in other beautiful parts of New Zealand. Dave was a friend of a friend bad boy as such who wasn’t a guy Id typically go for as such but we had communicated quite a bit since me moving overseas so we had become quite close. We laughed and had fun time and as much as I cared for him I also had decided that I didn’t see anything continuing after this holiday as we both lived very different lives, had very different values and he had no intention to ever want to live overseas- so that I guessed sealed the deal that this was nothing more than a summer fling which I was happy with.

One week before I was to leave New Zealand to head back to Dubai to start another academic year of teaching I had a grave feeling I was pregnant. I went to the Drs to have a blood test taken and a few days later the Dr called me to say I was pregnant. I was shocked, upset, excited, disappointed, nervous and anxious on what I should do, figuring I needed to fly back to a country in 4 days time that traditionally doesn’t accept unmarried pregnant women and whose country is very patriarchal. I spoke with my parents who were not impressed as I had made a lot of effort to be where I was in my career and it seemed I was now throwing that away. In a sense I felt that same disappointment but also I wanted to be a mum, I felt the time was right to be a mum and after the birth of my nephew a year prior, I was clucky and wanted to have a baby of my own. I spoke to Dave and he was excited, although he already had 3 sons to a previous relationship he was excited to be a father again and with me, that made me feel a bit more at ease. I had a lot to think about and decide- Have this baby and throw my job in, or consider aborting and continuing my ladder climbing career.

The next day everything feel to custard. I went to bed not feeling the best but didn’t want to kill the vibe to Daves drinks he was having to celebrate me being pregnant so I went off to bed alone. In the early hours of the morning I felt tight pains and was bleeding, but not like normal period bleeding, but painful, clot-like bleeding. Dave was drunk and in no position to drive so I drove myself to the Drs to find out that I had in fact had a miscarriage and then I drove myself back to my parents where I stayed in bed distraught, in pain and upset for the day. To top things off Dave did not contact me all day despite me calling and leaving him messages to update him. I ended up leaving him a messaging saying that I had lost the baby and needed his support- To which he didn’t show up at my parents or didn’t respond. It was at that moment I realised that although this hurt right now, that all this had happened for a reason and maybe it wasn’t my time to be a mama and that this was the universe telling me that Dave is absolutely not the man for me and it wasn’t my time to start a family. The next day I broke up with Dave, wiped my tears and packed my stuff ready to go back to Dubai stronger and knowing that one day the time will come for me to finally be a mama.

Two days later I flew back to Dubai to start the new school year, However this would not be the end to this story….. x B

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton