The diary begins:
You have no idea how hard the second half of pregnancy is.
I thought that after giving birth, the feeling of weight would disappear, the swelling in my legs would disappear, and I would be able to bend over again, and my life would gradually return to normal.
But just when I was sweating profusely, taking weak steps, and feeling as light as a swallow, before I had time to be happy, I realized that it was just what I thought.
…
My mother takes very good care of me. I can’t imagine anyone else taking such good care of me.
She would boil water for me from around 5:00 in the morning using codonopsis, red dates, and wolfberries, and would stand by and watch for over an hour. She would be busy from morning till night, even until late at night when I was breastfeeding, and she would always be by my side.
For several days she was in a dizzy state and I could see that she was unsteady when she walked. My father felt sorry for her and wanted to help her, but he was scolded for everything he did. She didn't trust anyone and looked down on everyone, and was very angry.
It was so good that it made me cry secretly several times and my heart was so heavy.
It's this kind of goodness that makes me about to collapse.
Starting with the Shenghua Soup, there are peanut pork trotter soup, fish soup, chicken soup, pork rib soup, kidney soup, tripe soup, plus various porridges. Doesn’t that sound good to you?
Chu Yifeng, can you imagine what it would taste like without soy sauce, vinegar, or a grain of salt?
All I want now is a bowl of spicy noodles. I want to eat it so much that I want to cry.
When I was pushed out of the delivery room, the person I was most grateful to was my mother, but now the person I hate the most is her. I really hate her so much!
After I had milk, she would massage my breasts and it hurt me. I asked her to be gentler over and over again, but she wouldn't. Yelling at her didn't work, and it made my two younger brothers stand in the yard in the middle of winter and not dare to go into the house.
After a while, my mother came back after wiping her tears and continued to rub my eyes. But I didn't dare to cry. I could only look away and endure it. Because I knew that if I cried, she would quarrel with me again about whether my eyes were hurt or not.
You are not allowed to go barefoot. You have to wear socks. If you forget, it will be a big deal in our Bi family.
I am not allowed to wear shoes with loose heels. She will nag and scold me if I forget to do this once.
I couldn't sit up and walk around all the time. I just walked around the house twice and they started chasing me. I felt extremely depressed...but they never asked me if I could lie down or not.
I'm not allowed to wear this or that, and I'm not allowed to show my neck. But she's so busy washing our two babies' diapers, hanging them out in the living room like the Eight-Nation Alliance flags, that she forgot to wash my clothes. What am I supposed to wear? She won't even let me touch the water. I feel like I'm crippled and restricted.
You can't open the window, stand at the door, or even stand in the kitchen to look at the sky outside because they say there's wind coming through the gap in the door.
She was very exaggerated. The next day, she blocked the kitchen door with a quilt and kept complaining to me: "Dani'er, look at how busy I am. Can't you just be honest and have some compassion for me? You actually gave me work to do."
She doesn't allow me to read books, newspapers or watch TV. I argue with her and she tells me to just watch for a while. But even if it's just the news, she will smash the TV and tear up my books.
It was Bi Cheng who stopped her, telling her to read to me and to keep her voice down so as not to disturb the children. Only then did she let me go. Even writing in your diary can't take more than fifteen minutes.
You cannot hold the baby in your arms and you must lie sideways to feed him.
The brook and the little dragon man looked different every day. They became very beautiful, and I had long forgotten their ugly appearance.
I held her for only a moment, and when my mother saw me, she scolded me. She asked me if I wanted my arm back, and I said no, it was none of my business. Then she sat in front of me and started crying like something had suddenly struck her, sobbing so hard that I lost all hope.
Not to mention giving the kids a bath.
I can't shower or wash my hair either. It's so itchy that I'm scratching my hair and tangling it. It's hurting my scalp. It's driving me crazy...
Why are there so many no's and no's? Was there also so much going on when she gave birth to me?
The words I hear most often every day are: "Bi Yue, don't be ungrateful for the blessings you've been given. Please give me some peace of mind. Do you think I have it easy? You're making me sick, you're tearing my heart out. I beg you."
She begged me, but who could I beg? She was constantly adding to my psychological burden.
Lying down every day in this small space, without even the freedom to move, I am worse than a prisoner.
I can't even see the sky, which is only a small piece of my palm. I feel like I'm suffocating.
There is no schedule in my daily life. As long as one of Xiaoxi and Xiaolong wakes up, I have to get up and feed them.
If the children have diarrhea or dry stool one day, your grandmother and my mother will all look at me, and I will become the sinner.
I envy you, I envy everything I had before, but now I have lost it.
I envy my good friend's rosy face, her skin, her coat, her waist, her high heels, and her casualness as if she could just leave at any time like a gust of wind.
Then I looked at myself in the mirror: I was lying down every day, not like I was being blown by the wind at a construction site, but I had very heavy dark circles under my eyes, my face was yellow, and I looked very tired.
Looking at my belly again, it's so ugly that I want to cut all the belly bands into pieces. What's the point of wrapping it with it? It's wrapped in layers of sweat, and it still looks ugly no matter how I wrap it?
Chu Yifeng, when you see what I've written, do you think I'm going crazy? I've felt that way a few times too.
Think about it, your grandmother will agree with my mother, and my mother will say no, no, no. Others have a husband to complain to, but who can I talk to?
Although I know that every woman can give birth to a child, it is not a special skill.
Every woman will experience the life-threatening situation of childbirth and the difficult confinement period. What's so special about me? Why should I complain?
But I don’t know how many women are like me now, often crawling back from the edge of collapse and automatically digesting the pent-up emotions without a trace.
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