Probably my most intimate blog post to date wtf.
If you had told me a decade ago that on the day I take my driving test, I'd meet some ah beng who I would eventually settle down with and end up having a child (who looks like his carbon copy fml), I would have laughed my ass off.
But some 12 years of Pump Room, bad jokes and good food later (and watching Zouk move from Jiak Kim to Clarke Quay), I have since traded my Chanel for Stokke - and sleep for insanity.
As much as I still don't believe it, this milk guzzler lying next to me as I type this is indeed a real
thing human being and here's how he came to this world.
The story begins at 36 weeks when my obgyn told me that I am quite "ready" to deliver (I don't know what he meant by ready but in my mind I was like wtf I was supposed to have 4 more weeks?!?!?!) and that he anticipates me to deliver by week 37 or 38. I then spent the next week or so going a bit crazy trying to get things in order at work, delegate as much as I can, approve the interns hire and told the partner to pray to Jesus or Guan Yin Ma or better yet, both, just to play safe.
Then came week 37 and at my weekly date with the doctor, he proposed I do a membrane sweep which might hasten labour.
To be honest, I wasn't that much in a hurry to give birth to see Junior BUT I desperately wanted to lose weight hahaha and I didn't want him to get TOO big and risk having to do a c-section. Cause I need a quick recovery so I can get back on my feet fast for work and vanity reasons... like you know, yoga and fat freezing thanks.
So the first sweep was done on Aug 19 and then I promptly went for a work event lol - all the way silently willing him not to come out. Especially since Tony Tan was at the event and I did NOT want him to enjoy free KFC for life kthxbye.
That sweep didn't work and at my 38 weeks checkup, the doctor did another sweep. And asked me to think about my birth plan.
We are I was extremely paranoid about going past week 39 because the risks of stillbirth and other stuff go up significantly come then.
So I went home and googled ways to naturally induce labour.
I tried eating pineapples.
I tried the cat cow pose.
I tried reciting OHMMMMM while holding my breath.
I tried eating pineapples while doing cat cow while going ohmmmmm.
But come week 39, I was still pregnant and was almost tempted to try the LAST resort of going for a 5km walk.
On 30 August, I saw my doctor and we agreed to try to induce labour the next day i.e. I would check in at 11pm that night.
But not before yet another sweep (I hate how personal it feels but fk lah, after labour, you'll soon realise that any shred of dignity you have left as a human being will be thrown out of the door, window and literally any opening wtf) and my last-ditch attempt at walking... by that I meant I drove myself to Nex and walked around the three storeys of Isetan.
(I'm using check in because I delivered at Mount E Novena and if you've been there, you'll know that place is like a bloody hotel. They even have PORTERS to handle your
hospital bag luggage when you arrive.)
I had it all planned. I would wash my hair at 6pm then we would go to Boon Tong Kee at Balestier for supper before I go to the hospital and end up being starved until the baby is out of me.
But if you know me and the cards life deals me with, nothing, absolutely NOTHING goes according to plan.
At about 4pm I started running a fever.
So I tried to sleep it out. But come 7pm it was at 39 degrees. So we called my doctor (after doctor hours I must add) who advised me to call off the induction and to see him the next morning.
So no more Boon Tong Kee. The husband cooked some horrible porridge cause there was a thunderstorm and I didn't want to proceed with UberEATS lest I get struck by bad karma should the rider get struck by lightning.
But apparently generating good karma by eating disgusting porridge wasn't enough because I started having contractions at 9pm. If you have been following my pregnancy journey, you'd know that one of my concerns is that I was super worried that I won't know I'm having contractions when I get them - and you know what? You bloody hell WILL know. (Though you might first blame your husband and his porridge for causing your tummyache...)
I then started the contractions app on my phone and timed till 1030pm before I concluded that I AM REALLY GOING INTO LABOUR WTF (and not like the 30,000 false alarms I had in the past 4 weeks... incl the one time I was sure I was gonna deliver at home. On my toilet bowl wtf) and the hubs drove us down to the hospital, with me complaining that I have yet to wash my hair :sob:
When we reached the hospital, the nurses were surprised to see me because they had received instructions from my doctor that I had called off the induction. Then they had to call my doctor AGAIN (this time at 11pm) to tell him that I am at the hospital (he seriously doesn't earn enough to deal with all my drama... god bless his kind soul). Then by 1145pm I was in the labour room and they stuck their fingers in (told you there's no such thing as dignity left) and told me I was almost 3cm dilated.
I immediately asked when could I have epidural and the nurses said anytime but I felt like I could still handle the pain (HAHAHAHA WHO WAS I KIDDING) plus I magnanimously thought that I shouldn't disturb my anaesthetist in the middle of the night.
So they sent me out of the labour ward to wait in my room.
1 hour later, I changed my mind and decided I needed epidural immediately but they told me they had to time my contractions, check my dilation etc so that took another hour - with me alternating between being angry with the entire world and begging the universe for forgiveness for all those times I abused the honestbee's free food delivery promos. I will never order just one bubble tea again...
While they were checking on me etc, all I could think was how everybody says Yvonne Lim (the anaesthetist I'd booked) always looks damn chio when she attends to them. And I kept asking the husband, "Do you think she is like me and will take 2 hours to apply makeup first?!?!?!?!?"
But thankfully she arrived pretty quickly... I didn't manage to see how chio she is though because I spent my entire time sticking my face into the laughing gas mask. Which by the way doesn't work at pain relief though it does get you high and happy, the way long island tea at China Black did when you were 17.
5 minutes later... NO PAIN AT ALL I TELL YOU.
(And this is coming from me. The girl who cries bloody murder when she has a paper cut.)
My water bag also burst then.
That was around 5am? So we tried to get some sleep... by that I mean the hubs. I started texting everyone... the partner to tell him that the email I promised him is not gonna happen, my jamu massage lady to tell her that I want to start my slimming massages pronto, my friends to tell them not to visit me because I didn't have time to wash my hair.
730am they served brekkie - to the hubs only. His greek breakfast looked quite good and I tried to communicate Nate via telepathy to come out by lunch... I think I had selected mee siam.
8am, my doctor came to check on me and I felt so bad because of all the drama I was giving him. The irony was that I had told him the day before that we should go for the induction because I don't want to deal with the unnecessary drama of having contractions, water breaking and all that jazz... f his life srsly.
I think I was only 4am dilated then so I was started on pitocin to quicken contractions. The hubs had A LOT of fun looking at my CTG monitor and going "WOAH that was a huge contraction. Did you feel anything?"
Nope. Epidural - 1, Flora - 0.
10am, the baby's heartbeat suddenly dropped and the nurses got worried. My doctor rushed over to check on me and reduced the pitocin.
12noon, I was almost 10cm.
Me to the hubs, "Do you think my doctor's having his lunch and we are interrupting him? Maybe he's having the beef horfun from the coffeeshop opposite his clinic."
1230pm, I think the doctor ordered har jeong gai too.
1245pm, door opens. FINALLY!
But it turned out to be room service with, "Sir, would you like your mee siam now?"
I glared at the hubs who (very reluctantly) turned it down.
1pm, okay. This pushing thing is really happening wtf.
1) It's the same muscle you use when you poop.
2) I should have done some squats during my pregnancy because it's NOT as easy as it seems. I think I pushed like 3000 times?
3) The only thing that kept me going was IF I DON'T GET HIM OUT SAFELY AND END UP HAVING A C-SECTION, I WILL BE FAT FOR A MUCH LONGER TIME.
4) I can't imagine the sight my doctor had to see... I'm really not paying him enough.
2pm, he’s out.
But I think it's the side effect from the epidural + the fever I was having which at this point was at 40 degrees, I ended up shivering damn badly. The Leonardo Di Caprio in Titanic kinda shivers. So unlike the birth books that glorify the beauty of skin to skin and breastfeeding, I spent the next few hours curling up on my side, drifting in and out of consciousness.
But not before I asked the hubs, "He got double eyelids or not?!?!?!?!?"
Priorities, I know.
(Anyway, the lack of modesty doesn't end with labour. There's the first pee after WHICH IS DAMN SCARY and the constant need to flash my boobs at every nurse who dilligently brought him to nurse every two hours. I thought this read from Buzzfeed was pretty good.)
The next few weeks as you guys will know have been a whirlwind of nappy changes, having my life attached to my breast pump while replying emails and me occasionally looking at the cute bugger and going "I can't believe I shat you out of my cb."
What? He's gonna pick up profanities sooner or later so I rather sooner from me than later from some fatass bully on the court.
(At least I'm more polite to him than his father lolol.)