Yearly Archives

2009

motherhood

One day at at time

I feel like I’m in a dream, or a stupor. I’m watching myself  morphing into this person I can’t even recognize and I’m on the outside looking in, not able to do anything about it. I’ve totally lost my sense of humor, everything sucks big time and I’m reduced to a crying machine. Six months later, this might actually be funny on retrospect but right now, it’s just plain sickening.

The crying bouts are back with a vengeance and the husband’s catch phrase these days is “want to cry cry”? Which sounds retarded, but it will somehow trigger off the tears and I’ll start bawling away.

Most of the time, I don’t even know what I’m crying about, but I must say it’s kinda cathartic. It’s a vicious cycle; I become totally irrational and start worrying that I’m a terrible mother and my kids are going to grow up dysfunctional and I’ll become a psychotic monster of a mother who will end up frazzled and crazy. Then I get pissed off with everything and after that I’ll get all guilty and hate myself.

But right after, I usually feel a lot better. For like a couple of hours until the next cry.

Just yesterday, I was spending time with Tru and suddenly it hits me, so I start crying uncontrollably. I think he knew that I’m crying, so he peered intently at me for like a full minute, then he climbed onto my lap and nuzzled his head on my chest. I’ve been feeling awful about not being able to spend time with him the past 4 days while I was in the hospital and all I could do was hold him and cry for a good 10 minutes.

I honestly don’t know how I’m going to last the next 3 months. What with the exhaustion and stress and pain and breastfeeding problems and depression, it’s all I can do to get through one day at a time. It’s so bad that I’m actually considering some anti-depressants or medication to help with the hormones.

Every morning I wake up telling myself I just need to survive the day and everything will be fine. Just one more day.

motherhood

Interview with the Vampire

16 July, 1630 hrs. Interviewed by Superdad who now looks like a terrorist with both his surgical mask and badass shades on. I feel compelled to give answers in the face of imminent death (by H1N1).

Q:  Its been 3 days since the arrival of Kirsten. Summarize your experience in a single word thus far.

A: Drained.

Q: Uh…alright let’s rephrase the question. Summarize your experience thus far, no word limit.

A: Tiring.

Q: Ahem, moving on. How was the whole labour process? 27 hours, no mean feat there.

A: Its not that fun. I was glad to get the baby out.

Q: Did you feel like it was a spiritual moment or something like that?

A: Not at all. It hurt a lot though. I am mostly just glad the baby is out.

Q: You’re known among close friends to want lots of kids. Has this experience changed any of that?

A: I may adopt.  From Africa or Vietnam. Maybe Vietnam. Yeah, Vietnam would be it.

Q: Why Vietnam?

A: It may be weird for me to have a black child.

Q: Baby Kirsten has jaundice and is back at the hospital. How do you feel about that?

A: I kinda miss her, but I’m glad I’m getting some time to rest. Which is terrible actually. Cos I’m not supposed to be happy that she’s not here. Of course, I’ll be happy if she was here too. I do miss her a lot. I’m not coherent, am I.

Q: You’re expressing milk through a breast pump as we conduct this interview- How’re those boobs coming along?

A: Not so good. I need to multitask. There’s nary a drop of milk. Zilch. None. I had to drink soup which smells of dead fish to get those milk ducts flowing, but there’s nary a drop. Zilch.

Q: How is Truett taking to Kirsten so far?

A: I think he is adjusting. He seems to be quite intrigued, but not particularly fond of her yet. I think he tried to headbutt her the other day. He probably needs a while. My stitches kinda hurt.

Q: Oh, yeah, those stitches..what’s the word..episiotomy? Any problems peeing?

A: Nope, but its hurts when I take a dump. I think I can keep it in for a week though, hopefully by which time it would be healed.

Q: Uh..okay. How are the baby blues? Cried a lot?

A: Well, I didn’t cry as much as the last time. Its hard to explain. A lot of it is irrational but..its very physical. I can feel the depression coming on pretty strong and it happens when i’m (attempting) to breastfeed or expressing milk. Or anytime of the day actually. Its a terrible feeling.

Q: What could possibly make you feel better right now?

A: Sleep. Emotional support. Bubble tea.

Q: Any inspirational last words for to-be-mothers out there?

A: Sleep now while you can. The end is nigh.

motherhood

And so it begins

Motherhood seems deceptively easy

Motherhood seems deceptively easy

Postpartum is a real pain. I’ve been waiting to give birth for months and now that its over, I’m totally floored by it.

It’s been an insane couple of days. I’m still recovering from the trauma of childbirth and struggling with the breastfeeding (my boobs are still broken – 3 days and absolutely no milk) and I’m exhausted beyond description. Plus I can feel an all-too-familiar sensation of the baby blues creeping up on me. It’s deja vu all over again.

The weird thing is, I was actually expecting it in my head. I spent many sleepless nights preparing myself for it, but it’s different actually experiencing it. When it hits, I still feel overwhelmed.

And what are the odds that on the day I get discharged from the hospital, Superdad comes down with a 39.6 degree fever. With the dreaded H1N1 virus going around, he’s now quarantined at home like a leper, so me and the 2 kids are now banished from home. Good thing we’ve got a back up plan, and we’re taking refuge at my mom’s place for a few days until its safe to go back. Unless of course it is a case of H1N1, then we’ll have to send in the professionals to do a clean sweep of the house.

Right now, I’m just waiting for the madness to settle. I hope I’ll find my groove soon.

This is the point I tell myself “2 IS ENOUGH!

pregnancy

24 Season 2: A very long engagement

After a 27 hour ordeal, it’s all finally over. And via natural birth too! I’ll describe the experience at length later, but here’s how it went.

12 July 2009, Sunday

10.00 – Admitted to the hospital for Induction, hooked up to the CTG machine to monitor the contractions and baby’s heartbeat.

12.00 – Prostin Inserted. Not fun at all.

14.00 – Irregular contractions. Brought up to the ward to rest. I was all like “if this is how contractions feel like, I don’t think I even need epidural. No sweat at all.” And then I spent the afternoon watching movies on my laptop.

18.00 – Hooked up to the CTG again. Contractions 7-8 minutes apart, but still irregular.

22.00 – Supposed to go for second round of Prosstin to increase contractions, but managed to escape since contractions are up to once in 3 minutes. Wheeled in to delivery suite.

22.30 – Abused by psycho nurse who came in to check my cervix (only 1 cm). I was absolutely livid with rage.

23.00 – Had to eat my words – in loads of pain. Injected with Pethidine (in my thigh) for pain relief.

13 July 2009, Monday

01.00 – Epidural inserted. HURTS LIKE HELL. Epidural sucks.

03.00 – Oxytocin injected to induce contractions again. Contractions still fluctuating between once every 5-8 minutes. By this time, I was kinda drifting in and out of sleep. Cervix still at 1 cm.

09.00 – Gynae dropped by for a consult. Cervix at 3 cm. He says it’s gonna be a long labor, as if it’s not been long enough. If there’s no sign of progress in 8 hours, I’ll have to go for another c-section.

12.00 – Somehow the epidural only got channeled to the right side, and my entire left side was in excruciating pain. Contractions coming hard and fast and I was all worked up screaming for pain relief. I seriously thought I was about to die. Literally.

12.15 – Hot, young anesthetist came with more epidural. Pity I didn’t notice because I was having a near-death experience. The husband says he’s hot, and that I wasn’t dying. But he obviously doesn’t know anything cos he wasn’t pushing a baby out of his bits.

12.30 – Cervix at 9 cm. All I could think about was that something feels like it’s dropping out and I need to take a massive crap.

13.30 – After a lot of pushing and shoving (and an episiotomy), Kirsten finally came out with a plop.

It was totally surreal. And kinda awesome.

pregnancy

Bring on the pain

As a break from tradition, I’m posting on my lovely Saturday morning, as opposed to writhing in bed waiting for contractions to start. There’s probably lots of folks anxious to know if the baby is out yet, so here’s an update. NOT. EVEN. CLOSE.

I’m down to less than 20 hours to the point that my gynae is going to have to force Kirsten out. During my visit on Thursday, things weren’t looking so good.

After doing the dreadful internal exam, he had this to say about my cervix:

Gynae: Mmm, no sign of any dilation at all.

Me: Not even like 1 cm? Is that bad? What does that mean?

Gynae: We’ll just have to wait till Sunday.

Me: So what are my chances of having a normal delivery?

Gynae: *pause* Not so good.

Right. Which is a euphemism for “I hate to break it to you lady, but there’s probably no chance in hell she’s coming out from your vagina.”

So with every passing minute of every day since Thursday, my heart beats a little faster and I start getting mild panic attacks. I just spent the better part of last night trying to manufacture contractions and panicking about the thought of another c-section. For the past year, I’ve somehow managed to block out all memories of the experience from my consciousness, but it’s all coming back to me now.

In fact, it’s flooding into my head with a vengeance. I have very vivid memories of having to scream for morphine when the epidural wore off. For a month after that, every movement I made felt like my stitches were going to split open. And then there’s the accursed, suck-like-hell catheter and enema (that I endured 3 TIMES the last round, and by the third time, I was literally terrified shitless).

And so the countdown continues. And the hyperventilating intensifies.

Come on, come on, come on, come on…

Kidspeak

The Da Vinci Code

the hair that is

Words fail to describe how awesome my coiffure is

I have no idea how it happened, but in the past week, my boy has morphed into a non-stop talking machine. Ok, the only recognizable word so far is mama (which he calls with such emotion), and the rest of it is like a bunch of gibberish. But I’m actually convinced it’s actually a language. with actual syllables and words that mean something.

Listening to babies talk, you’d be tempted to just dismiss it as nonsense, or random sounds that they make for fun. But I’ve been observing him for days now, and there’s so much feeling going into his conversations that I’m pretty sure he’s trying to say something. So I’ve been trying to have extended conversations with him, trying to decipher the code.

Tru: Mama, dapaeljfes kenify juaper sakejr.

Me: Not right now, honey. You’ve got to finish your porridge first.

Tru: Dadyear tatare feislr klake.

Me: But we’re going to the library tomorrow. Today we’ll do something else ok, maybe we can go the park for a walk later.

Tru: Fasfer taerje glear leraes! Jaelr eeleares arj! issejiear sakme uwahrae!

Me: I thought you liked going to the park. We can play with all the kids and chill out…

Tru: DAJEAREASJRAIESTOIATSDGAJGAJKETIOA!!!!! ESTJLDGFGAKJSTILESAJLKDGLKADJFLKSDJF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me: Ok, ok, calm down. We’ll go to the library today instead. Sheesh!

And this goes on for quite a while, as his voice gets louder and increasingly worked up. He’s even got accompanying hand gestures to emphasize his points from time to time. And he’ll look at you with this intense gaze, as if he’s pouring out his heart to you in that one conversation. It totally cracks me up.

I’ve also been trying to teach him real English words, but he probably thinks it’s too lame to learn 1 word at a time and he prefers going on his soliloquies.

I suspect he’s trying to teach me his language instead, cos that’s so much cooler than speaking English.