Sleeping babies

You know what I miss?

This.

My newborn sleeping face next to me when I wake up in the mornings.

When Beth was little and I was still a mum of one, I could stare at her all the time. Just tilt my head down, and there she'd be, all snuggled up next to me with her cherubic features.

Super cute.

Sometimes they'd give you a treat with a lil scrunch of their face or a crinkle in their nose, still in their state of slumber.

Super super cute.

We still co-sleep with Beth (and loving it) so logistically speaking, it gets squeezy to have both of them in bed with me. Beth sticks to me during her sleep, consciously or unconsciously. I've no room to move. Both children flank me on both sides when I bring Elijah to bed during night feeds.

I treasure moments like these when I get to wake up next to Elijah's cute sleeping face.

I wish we've a bigger room to put a bigger bed, something like 2 King size for our expanding brood.

My Magical Home Birth

This experience has been so enriching and rewarding that I'm glad it went the way it did. Granted, it wasn't the smoothest labour compared to my first - I was told so many times second births are faster but not in my case.

I'm still recuperating rather slowly but feeling so much better as the days and weeks passed. My body will only get stronger, my wound will heal, my mood will improve, things will get better. For now, I rest while I share the story of my amazing home birth.

The fact that it coincide around my late younger sister's first death anniversary was both an emotional and spiritual thing for me. I lost count of the number of times I prayed for strength and for this new chapter in our lives to mend our broken hearts.

Having gone through the Bradley Method antenatal course the first time round was very useful in preparing my birth. The subsequent Love Based Birth classes was an important and essential refresher. I absolutely loved attending every single classes conducted by both courses. It was all I needed to have a positive mindset and the awareness of what to expect, a crucial asset for any births.

Being very in tune with my body and baby, I started making big batches of bone broths for my confinement as well as the actual labour to nourish my body and prepare for Elijah's arrival.

I even had very specific prayer request - for baby to come after week 39 for personal and health reasons so he can benefit from being a full term baby. At the same time, I'm fully committed to God's plan, whenever baby is ready, so will I be.

I became very nervous in week 38 as I counted down to week 39, not knowing what to expect but always trusting in my body's ability to know what to do. 

Around the same time, Nick was invited to catch his childhood idol, Juventus, play at the National Stadium. The match was set for Sunday night.

By then, I had formed a niggling feeling baby will be due around the weekend period. I kept it to myself and basically gave him the green light to accept the invitation. That was the first real start of anticipation that our baby is coming, even though I was the only one who knew. I started dropping preemptive updates to my birth support team in our group chat.

Over the course of 1-2 days, that niggling feeling grew and heightened and I couldn't ignore it. Nick was the first person I broke my silence to: I had strong instinct my labour will take place from Saturday to Sunday, and Elijah will be out by Sunday morning. He had to unaccept the invitation.

The day finally came.

True enough, my surges (contractions) intensified gradually overnight. Thankfully, it was similar to my first birth. A textbook birth as I call it. The gradual process helped me make sense of the pain and manage it in a way my body could and would bear. I didn't think I've a high pain threshold, so nothing too sudden for me would be nice.

I shared with my care practitioner about my intuition: That I'll labour from Saturday to Sunday, giving birth on Sunday morning. However, my strong surges are telling me a different thing - I could deliver by midnight.

I activated my birth team on Saturday evening, they arrived no later than 9pm.

The birth pool was set up, and birth supplies all within reach for the action.

Game on.

Nick supported me through my earlier contractions before the team arrived, with lots of hip squeezes to alleviate the contraction pains. Strangely, by the time they arrived my surges had slowed down drastically. 

Something changed when I went into the pool ready to birth as my body is telling me to push - my surges had tapered off rather abruptly. It meant one thing: It was no good birthing in the pool, my plans for a gentle home water birth flew out the window in a second.

I knew I had to step out of my comfort zone and trust the process. This was a huge shift in direction. I don't remember feeling sad or angry, I just went with the flow and adapted quickly, much to my birth team's relief I think. I credit this to the many consultations and discussions I had with my care practitioner, we had built trust and understanding, I know I'm in good hands regardless of my plans. It was the one thing I didn't doubt throughout my whole labour.

I thought, God's will - so be it - as long as I'm in good hands, God's loving hands and the people he had surrounded me with.

My contractions became very irregular after that. I breathed deeply through every single one of them. No visualisation or hypnobirthing exercises for me, I tried practicing during pregnancy but couldn't see myself doing it. During one intense surge, I heard a low and lovely sound breathing exercise coming from my team and I followed eagerly. "OOOOOOOMMMMmmmm~" I bellowed before mellowing to a halt. It felt so good! I will practice it for my third birth. Ha!

An awful amount of time has passed. My labour was stuck in the transition phase for a long enough time - shivering, urge to push, painful contractions - but nothing was happening. I was kept hydrated after every surge but the whole process of nothing happening with every uneventful surge took the wind out of me. I declared exhaustion, and was offered food to fuel up. I was fed Royce chocolates.

I got into so many different positions to try and push him out to no avail. Finally, my birth photographer Keidi who's also a practising doula suggested a spinning baby method to disengage baby's head from my pelvic bone so he could reposition himself for birth (assuming he got into a bad position). I had to say that was the most painful thing ever but it worked! I was so grateful for all the loving hands that held mine while I was working through this.

Almost 7am on a quiet Sunday morning, as I had predicted, the magical hour that Elijah arrived to a roomful of loving and gentle hands. He appeared undistressed and curious, just like his big sister.

I was stitched up while nursing Elijah, simultaneously working through the nasty after pains from my uterus shrinking. 

Elijah's measurements were taken and his health status examined. We then took pictures in bed. Bethany was so excited to meet her little brother.

We are now a family of four.

Letter to Mabel: I need to talk

I miss you so much, not in the sense you're sixth feet under and I miss you kinda way, but in a I need to talk and I choose to tell you because you'd understand and commiserate with me sorta way.

I miss calling you, hearing your voice and just knowing you're there makes me feel so much better. Everything else wouldn't matter, you being there was good enough.

I just wanted to talk. Not because I had anything important to say, but I just needed to rant my miserable self away and I choose you because you'll get it in a heartbeat.

I just wanted to say, my nipples hurt so much this time round from nursing Elijah because his latch is so shallow but his suckle is so strong. Stuff like that. Nothing important like I said. Just things I wanted you to know.

And I'm catching a flu, a sore throat, I think I got it from Beth. I don't know how it started but I've never had such high frequency of flu before. My immunity is so lousy.

I'm recovering so slowly and I'm impatient, but trying to be chill, because what else can I do right? See, stuff like this that I only share with you. Nothing important, just stuff that matters to me.

Now that I'm a mother of two, I'm so so tired. Fulfilling, but tired nonetheless. I'm not even asking for naps, because it's understandable I don't get them anymore since I chose to take care of two children on my own. I only wanted to rest for 10 minutes sometimes to recharge, or eat my lunch and dinner without interruption. It's so hard, I love what I'm doing but it's so hard without help. I just gotta wing it till I got it. I chose this myself, no help.

If you're here right now, you'd do a burly laugh then offer your sympathy which makes me feel a little better about myself. You'll support, encourage and cheer me up.

But you're not here anymore, and there's no one else to replace you. You'll always be my special angel. My greatest cheerleader.

All I have left are these hidden feelings.

Feelings of bliss, for making me a big sister to a little sister in you - though you're the unofficial big sister to me. I wish I was a better sister and I knew you'd agree with me. But I also know you've forgiven me a long time ago when you stepped up to be the best sister ever. I say this with fondness and truth.

More hidden feelings.

Feelings of anger - reason and person. Feelings of envy - others' siblings. Feelings of fear - my child dying.

Yet most of all, feelings of regret.

I'm tired, so very tired of missing you and wishing you were here.

Blues

How would you feel when, in the middle of recovering from a painfully long and slow stop-start labour, you ask your husband to check on your perineal stitches - so you go on all fours atop the bed with your derriere up in the air - and the room door suddenly opens, the visitor lingered and didn't think twice to leave the room even after seeing your naked bum...?

The awkwardness of not being able to jump off the bed made it worse because you're moving in slow-mo from the pain and your initial warnings to ward off the intruder didn't work, you got more flustered that the other visitors would read it as open invitation and strut right in. Horrifying thought.

Before I could unembarrass myself, said visitor and her family left angrily without seeing Elijah. I found out she was angry at me - what? - my initial warnings - or shouting - had offended her, she felt it was uncalled for, she had knocked so she felt totally justified for her behaviour, and later insisted I should have locked my own room door in my own house. She chose to ignore my call and did not accept any of my explanations over text. Rather, calling me a liar ("STOP LYING") and accusing me of being dishonest ("I just WANT HONESTY"). I quote her word for word, capital letters and all.

We were all shocked by her behaviour. I felt really bad for my mum who didn't had a clue but had to watch them leave angrily. My mum is so wonderful, she didn't even question me - she said she hadn't heard any big commotion in the room even though I thought I sounded pretty loud and flustered. I was basically screaming at the person coming into the room - had thought it was my mum informing us of visitors. I didn't want the visitors to misunderstand they could all come in - knowing them, I was so afraid of that happening! I couldn't believe it when I saw who was in my room. Shocked is an understatement.

Nick was cradling Elijah and moved - slowly as always - trying to block my naked bottom, Beth was on the bed with me. Our little family were all in there checking on Mummy's stitches - this fact somehow amuses me later on. Our room used to be our private space, or so I thought. As long as our room door is closed, my mum would never even think of coming in, so it was a bit strange and frightful that she'd come into our room that day. There is nothing my mum can't see, she is after all my mum. I just didn't want the visitors to follow my mum into our room unintentionally.

It was embarrassing. But said visitor didn't think so. She went on to be sarcastic, challenging my supposed modesty - I support breastfeeding in public and do so discreetly and tactfully but exposing the rest of my body just isn't the same.

I wasn't upset in the beginning, just baffled at her reaction and behaviour. I apologised, offered my explanation and tried to close the gap on our differences - none were accepted, she chewed me out completely and then complained this isn't the first time I was rude to them.

There is no form of empathy, nor understanding going on here. She clearly made it about her, when this moment should be about Elijah and me. I was pregnant and then I gave birth, I wouldn't want to be rude at all, I was conserving my energy for myself, I had no interest nor energy to be rude to anyone. If I was, it was all unintended obviously. If I was rude, it was to safeguard myself, my energy and my emotions. If only she understood.

This negavitity has been manifesting for over two weeks since the unpleasant incident. Not fun for someone going through postpartum. All these big feelings are messing with me. I do need to let it go and focus on my little family, they are all that matters. I am not responsible for how she feels.

Initially I didn't think like that, I felt bad for causing all that unhappiness and even apologised to Nick for possibly souring his relationship with his cousin (said visitor's husband) and also to my mum for having witnessed such unnecessary drama.

I do need to be better to myself. I am only responsible for the words that came out of my mouth and my own actions.

Having big hormones does mean that I can go from a Mummy's high one minute, and super low in the next moment. I can't be too cautious of my thoughts. I had experienced a brief moment of postnatal blues in my last postpartum and I'll never forget that awful low feeling. Any mummies are susceptible to it, no matter the personality and lifestyle. It just hits you.

This is why I feel the need to talk about it, and not let it overwhelm me. This kind of drama is the last thing I need during this period. Birthing Elijah was hard work - Nick told me my chest veins were all popping out from pushing, it was intense. I am super proud of myself and my birth support team. Am letting that sink in for a bit.

This visitor was someone I respected so I couldn't just ignore it at first. It has been two weeks and I don't know if she still hold a grudge against me, but I've decided to let it be and let God work it through. I've said my prayers, made my peace and hope for the best.

Reading my post, you might think I had a verbal altercation. It wasn't even like that. I found out all the details through text messages, Nick's texts to her specifically. I can't imagine if it was an aggressive confrontation, what will it do to my mental health?

Praying for the rest of my postpartum period to be as uneventful as possible.

A letter to Mabel: Motherhood

Mummy is helping me with confinement and we briefly talked about what you'd be like as a mother - noting in my head how you had asked a gazillion questions about pregnancy and breastfeeding while you were still alive.

Grieving is such a lonely process, even though I have Mummy and Nick to talk to, there are still some things I can't talk about with either of them.

Maybe you thought we'll eventually move on or deal with your loss positively, but it's not true, not for long anyway. Especially not for Mummy.

Happiness is temporary, pain is forever.

If I was sure about one thing in life, it'd be that I've always known I'd be a mother, and you too. Or so I thought.

I had thought we'll be mothers together, nurturing our children, giving them chances to be close friends.

After you passed, I figured one way I can give my children a better childhood is by giving them more playmates. We never expected my second labour to be long and slow, it was a bummer - we really want more children to follow. It was dampening. Anything can, and will happen in childbirth I guess. Not taking my female health for granted.

Life with two is not easy, especially when managing on my own. But with babies, everything is just a phase. I'm incredibly thankful for Mummy, she is such a wonderful grandma and so supportive. I won't be able to handle this confinement without her help at all. Love Mummy to bits.

I have too many thoughts and not enough time to pen it down - maybe later. Love you mei.