This expression, “putting my face on” is one my mum uses a lot. Not sure if she realises it though.
For example, she might say: “we can’t go out yet, I need to put my face on.”
By this she means her make-up. Not an actual different face.
It’s an expression I love. I will tell you why.
It reminds me of my mum, being brave and putting make-up on to get on with the day, facing the world when things are getting her down.
Whether this was how she meant it I don’t know. Mum: feel free to comment below!
These words went through my head, though, after a few days being locked up in High Dependancy.
I needed to express milk for the babies. I had read about the benefits of breast milk, knew it was important and wanted to give them the best possible start. But I was struggling to get them to latch on so the midwife suggested expressing some milk. That also meant the hubby could feed them if I was sleeping.
The doctor said I would need a wheelchair as the express machine was on the floor below us.
I feel the need to point out that I have a lot of my mum in me. A lot of determination. In our family we call it ‘the Urquhart spirit’.
Oh, and I don’t like being told what to do.
I especially don’t like being told what not to do.
I am extremely stubborn.
As it turns out my children have this in them too but that is for another post.
When I packed my hospital bag, I included make-up, after all I would want to put my face on every day… No? I am sure you will not be surprised that my make-up had stayed, neglected, in my bag up until is point.
So what did I do?
I dressed, pinned my hair up and put my face on. No doctor – who knows exactly what he is doing – is going to tell me what I can or can’t do. I was determined to walk. I ignored the suggestion of using a wheelchair.
I left the twins with the hubby in the room and went down to the pre-natal ward to express milk. I have to point out I took the lift. I really wasn’t well and thought I might keels over on the stairs.
When I got to the room I collapsed in the chair, heart racing, faint headed and exhausted.
But I felt good. For the first time in days, I felt in control. I was smug. With hindsight, I was also a bit silly….
On the way back to High Dependency, I happened to bump into my doctor in the lift. He was stunned and I pretended I felt absolutely fine. I didn’t but I was damned if he was going to see that.
He knew, of course; he must have known.
Later on, he said to me, you know a lot of people would just lie down to this but you are pretty strong-willed.
Yep, that’s me, strong-willed, stubborn, exhausted and probably at risk from fainting in the lift. But I did it and I felt good!
I felt like this was a turning point for me. In a way, it was but I had no idea that I wouldn’t feel back to my pre-HELLP self for a good two years.