Filed under Just Me, Love & relationships, Parenting & kids
Disclaimer: Some parts not suitable for minors.
…
The day I went into labour, I had just completed the organization of a communications workshop. Earlier in the afternoon, somewhere around tea break, I was stealing a cuppa freshly brewed coffee (here's the truth: I continued drinking caffeine during my pregnancy, occasionally though), and munching on some mayo-sandwiches and pandan cakes offered by the hotel when I felt the distinct pulling ache that had gone missing for many months. But I was busy trying to make sure the entire workshop ran well, so I brushed the pain aside and went back into the seminar room.
I sort of forgot about the period-like pains, and lasted in workshop until about 6.45 pm. We quickly wrapped up the day's events with a post-mortem meeting and then promised to see each other at the office, the next day. And so I left for the carpark, with my bag, keys and all, satisfied that I had done a fairly good job.
Then the aches sort of returned again. Sort of, because they really weren't that bothersome, but somewhere, deep inside, I felt this strange need to call Sivin's wife just to check in.
Contractions? Not sure, just a frequent hardenings of the belly, but the gaps between the contractions weren't regular.
The pain? Not too sure either, not painful, just feels like a typical period day.
Where are you? Driving on the way back from Sunway to Damansara, stuck in the LDP jam.
Why don't you just U-turn back to the hospital to a quick check? Just to buy a peace of mind. If nothing's up then you can go back and have dinner with Eric.
And so I took her advice, made a U-ie at the Western Digital flyover turning, and got stuck in a half an hour traffic jam before finally reaching Sunway Medical Centre at around 7.45 pm. I parked my car, and strolled casually to the Accidents & Emergency counter, and casually told the nurse, 'Err, I would like to see if my contractions are regular, and if I am already in labour, but I'm not sure where to go.'
I think the hospital staff were more panicked than I was. Very quickly I was put into a wheelchair (to my dismay, because I didn't like looking like an invalid), and whisked to a labour room. I was asked to lie on the bed, and then they started doing all the necessary preparations.
'Ma'am you're already 3 cm dilated…' said the midwife as she did a check on my cervix.
'Oh. Okay, can I go home then?'
'NO! You're supposed to call your husband already.'
'Now?'
'Yes. Baby is going to be delivered tomorrow morning, most probably.'
'Oh. Can I go home for dinner and a shower first then we'll come back?'
I think the midwife thought I was mad, because she had this strange look on her face as she passed me my mobile phone so that I could quickly call Eric.
I think it was around 8 pm them.
…
My husband took around one hour to beat the LDP jam. He gave me a call halfway through to tell me 'don't give birth yet, wait for me', and when he arrived, he was all red from the excitement. The doctor came at around 10 and decided promptly to break my water bag.
As he did the honours, the doctor told me, 'Remember yah, the pains will be quite bad, so you may want to consider an epidural. And don't get so nervous, don't scream during the delivery, cos you'll need the energy to push.'
I was shivering from the sight of the damned silver thing he used to poke inside me. It was HUGE and freaked me out, and sent me into nervous shakyness! My doctor then said, 'It's going to be worse than that thing going inside you so be prepared. I'll be back at around 6-7 am in the morning, I think you should be fully dilated by then.'
'Can I shower first?'
'You can take a nice hot shower…'
'Can I eat dinner first? I'm starving.'
'No dinner, just milo and one piece of biscuit. Then the nurse will give you an enema.'
(GAH, should have eaten before I came to the hospital.)
Tradition says that women in first time labour typically take 1 hour to dilate 1 cm, and you need to be 10 cm dilated so that baby's head can pass through the birth canal.
…
By 1.30 am, I was already 8 cm dilated.Now I was feeling the pain, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.
How shall I describe it? Imagine really really bad period pains (like, if you took some leong fun, or pineapples, on day two of your period where the flow is quite heavy), coupled with really bad diarrhea sensations, and you just CAN'T wait to go and poo, but you're not allowed to go to the loo at all cos some damned midwives and your idiotic husband keep holding you back.
Instead of letting me go to the toilet, the midwives promptly set up the Entonox, gave me a mask and told me to breathe through it, and they called my poor doctor back.
Now Entonox is a mixture of nitrous oxide and oxygen, regularly known as 'gas and air', and more commonly identified to the layman as 'laughing gas'. I was breathing in so much of it that by the time my doctor arrived at the door (around 2 am) I was high on laughing gas, very conscious of my surroundings but totally incapable of controlling the words that were popping out of my mouth.
I laughed at the doctor and said sorry he had to come back so early.
When the nurse was checking me for my dilation again, I laughed at Eric and said, 'Oooh Eric she is so so so much better than you okay.'
(To this day Eric goes around telling people what I said in the room…)
I was giggling through the pain and contractions, and then later, I was scolding the damned people in the room 'eh I just want to go to the toilet, let me go first, do my business and then I'll continue.'
To one end I kept on saying, 'I just want to shit lah why you guys so evil don't let me shit one.'
So when it came the time for me to push, the midwife said, 'Okay, now you can shit, shit!!!'
(Eric loves recounting this story since I likened the whole process to a scene where everyone was looking at me poo and I just didn't give a fuck because the shit took so damn long to come out.)
The whole process, like so many mothers would describe, was so exhausting. It really didn't help that my last actual meal was at 3 pm, and consisted of only coffee, a slice of sandwich and a small piece of cake. The gas didn't help either, because I was so drunk on it, I was actually sleepy, and Eric said I passed out a few times. There was even once where I told everybody, 'Ok like this, I sleep for five minutes first then we continue okay?' – to which the whole room went 'NO NO NO.'
Twice, I think, Eric had to slap me, because I had fallen asleep while pushing.
It took about 45 minutes of me and my lousy pushing, and then finally at 3.55 am, we heard a loud baby's wail, and then, Paul came out.
He looks so grumpy! It's as if somebody dragged him out of him beauty sleep inside his mama's belly.
…
A few weeks later, Paul looks like this:
I know I've been pregnant for some months now, but it still takes away my own breath to realize that I am now a mother. And isn't my kid just adorable?
