I’ve popped! and the 23 months 5 days update

Hip hip hurray, I have popped!

I was really worried that I would have to be induced at 39 weeks. It sure sounded like it was going to be the case at the last gynae visit. My ex-colleague suggested that I should talk to baby and tell him to give his mama less of a hard time. I think it must have worked. The first day I started working from home was the day my water broke (while I was talking to a shop assistant over the phone enquiring about a particular KDK fan). It didn’t feel like a big water gush, but like water leaking out of the va-jay-jay. I was definitely a bit stunned and stood up, causing a small pool of water on the floor. I picked up the phone and called the hubbs straight away. He didn’t pick up but instead texted to say “in a meeting”. I texted, “you have to call me back. my water just broke.” That sure worked like magic. So he called immediately and asked if I was ok, and he would make his way back immediately. The next person I called was my mum, who said “oh oh ok. Where are you now? A is on his way back?”

Calmly, I went to take a shower and slowly packed the rest of the items into the hospital bag. I wasn’t having any contractions yet but it sure felt quite heavy and a little uncomfortable down there. Then my mum called and I asked, “Should I call the gynae?” “Yes la of course”. Erm yea, I wasn’t quite thinking clearly. So I called the emergency line and got a call back where Dr Woody said “oh Mount A ah. Wah very full leh. Never mind la, you go and try.” Ogay.

Soon, A came back and the first thing he asked was “Are you ok? Are you in any sort of pain?” I said no. He said “ok you’re very calm”. Uh huh. He got showered, packed his last bits into the hospital bag as well. He pulled out a Star Wars tee that said “I am your Father”, and told me, “I’m going to wear this.” Haha! I sure didn’t expect that. Clearly the man had thought about this before. Then, just before we left, his mother called and asked if we were at the hospital. With urgency, she said, “Still not there? Hurry! Second one very fast one!” Yikes.

Oh, it was even meant to be the day we were suppose to collect the new car. But of course we had to shelf those plans.

We got to Mt A and indeed it was very full. We had to sit around and wait for about 15 minutes before we were attended to. Then it all began. The midwife checked how dilated I was, flushed me of my crap, put me on a drip to start the contractions and asked if I wanted the epidural. She warned that the dr administering the epidural takes time to arrive and I shouldn’t ask for it too late (if not, I wld have to do without).

20 minutes into the contraction-inducing drip, I asked for the gas mask. Then another 20 minutes later, I told A to just ask for the epidural for me. (I signed off on the paperwork already). Then a midwife came along and asked in an auntie-like manner, “Eh girl ah, you want to push you must let us know you know. It’s like da bian lidat.” ONCE SHE SAID IT, HOMG, the pain escalated instantaneously. I immediately felt like it (da bian-ing) man. I nodded my head furiously, body contorted. “Huh! Eh she says she wants to push!” the midwife shouted to presumably another mid-wife outside the delivery suite.

With my eyes closed tight and hands hanging on to the gas mask for dear life, I could feel the other midwife sticking her fingers down there to check my dilation. Then I heard her say “Too late already, cannot take the epidural already.” HOLY MOLY. What felt like two minutes later, I heard her say it again to I guess the other midwife? So I mustered whatever strength I had, pulled off the gasmask and said “Ok FINE, then don’t give it to me!” I was thinking to myself, oh my gosh, if this is the going to be the pain, I Can Do IT! Don’t ask me why I so gung-ho. The contractions came fast and I remember it really felt like Da Bian. And the pain was just beyond imagination. There were times I just felt like I was detached from my body. Midwife said, “Dont push girl, doctor coming ah!!” And I’m thinking to myself, what do you mean don’t push!? Midwife reading my mind said, “If you push, it will tear!” GOSH. Again, I pulled off the gasmask and said with as much strength as I could “WHERE’S DOCTOR?” “Coming, coming!” SERIOUSLY DUDE.

Then I heard Woody’s voice, and before I knew it, the sound “Snip, snip, snip” and then my baby’s glorious cries. My eyes were still tightly shut cause there was just so much pain. Then I felt like I was being poked by needles at regular intervals – turned out it was Woody sewing me up down there. So experienced mothers were right, the contractions are so painful that the episiotemy and the sewing are like… ant bites.

So there, that’s my birth story for number 2 – I did it! Natural with NO epidural. Haha, not by choice, but still it was surreal and ah-mazing.

23 mths 5 days update on E.

E can now more or less successfully tell us when he needs to poop. But no luck yet on the pee-ing though my MIL is trying to get him to tell us when he pee-pees. He’s also now able to string quite a few words together to express his thoughts. We’ve also stopped cooking him porridge ’cause apparently there was one day he told his granny “no porridge!” assertively. So now, he’s eating whatever the adults are eating (pretty much).

E has been taking well to his little brother, for now. Our intention was to have E sleep in his own room with my mum when we got back from the hospital. But he refused and cried for me. It really made me very emotional, not to mention, my hormones were all over the place post-partum. I felt like I was forcing him to grow up and I was really guilty about it. I’m more or less better about it now but I think the bigger problem is how are we going to cope with a super energetic 2-year-old toddler and a newborn that needs extra attention. My mum has been playing confinement nanny, so for now we have an extra pair of hands. My sisters have been uber sweet and dropping by over the weekends when they can to take some of the baby-sitting duties with E. But yea, after the confinement, we are pretty much on our own. And that, ladies and gentlemen, requires a plan and a strategy if we are going to stick it out without a helper.


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