Browsing Category

pregnancy

pregnancy

Help, my boobs are broken

breastfeeding

breastfeeding

Believe it or not, I’m actually envious of women with squirty breasts. Some women seem to be able to produce enough milk to feed a small province in China and still have enough to spare. I once went to a friend’s place and her freezer was overflowing with bottles of breast milk. I, on the other hand, have barely enough to feed a tiny kitten.

Partly thanks to the c-section the first time around, I literally had no milk for the first 5-6 days. Not even a drop. I was hell bent on breastfeeding Tru in the hospital, so I voluntarily endured some brutal breast-manhandling by the lactation consultant (who didn’t seem to notice that my breasts were actually attached to nerves and kneaded and pinched my areola like she was rolling dough). And even then, still nothing. Zilch. Every time I latched Tru on to feed, he’d suckle for a few minutes, then stop abruptly and scream for dear life.

The nurse was trying to console me by saying that newborns don’t really need much milk for the first few days, but looking at my helpless little bundle screaming for food, it was too much for me to bear. By the second day, I caved and fed him formula milk as a supplement. From then on, he figured out it was much easier drinking from a bottle and refused to latch directly to drink. The only option was for me to express the milk and feed from the bottle.

So for the first month, my daily schedule consisted of feeding (30 minutes), burping (15 minutes), rocking him to sleep (45 minutes) expressing milk (60 minutes). I’d emerge an hour later with a measly 20 ml of milk (that’s from both breasts, mind you). By the time I was done expressing, it was time to start the whole cycle all over again.

I was so immensely jealous of moms that could fill up a 200 ml bottle in 30 minutes. I even heard that some women have so much milk that when the baby stops drinking, milk would be squirting out in all directions (WAY COOL!)

In fact, I was convinced that my boobs were broken and it’s a miracle I even lasted a whole month. I was too bummed by the fact that my game plan for losing weight had vanished into thin air (the hopes, not the fats).

Very soon, I’ll have another shot at breastfeeding and I AM GOING TO MAKE IT HAPPEN. To aid the process, I’ve gotten all the breastfeeding devices I could think of, like a co-sleeper that attaches to my bed so I’ve got easy access to her during all hours of the night, a breastfeeding pillow for proper positioning and support, a state of the art breast pump to provide the necessary stimulation and a ton of herbs that’s supposed to increase the milk supply.

I’m keeping my fingers crossed that somehow, my breasts will miraculously start squirting milk in the next 2 weeks. I’d take leaky breasts over spoilt ones any day.

kids inc, pregnancy

I think my mommy swallowed a whale

Pregnant or fat

I think my son is struggling with the concept of my second pregnancy. For a 12-month-old, he’s already way ahead of the pack in terms of intelligence, but this is something he’s still trying to wrap his head around. Ever since I found out that Kirsten was on the way, I’ve been indoctrinating him in hope that he’ll be prepared for her arrival.

The first few months, I’d point to my belly and tell him that baby Kirsten was inside, and he would giggle and beat my belly like a drum as if it was some sort of game. I think it was because I looked pretty much the same, so he was blissfully unaware that in a couple of months, he’ll have to share his mommy with another sibling. Or perhaps he was really smart and the violence was premeditated.

But recently, with my stomach growing to the size of Texas, he’s starting to understand that there’s something fishy going on in there. These days, I’d ask him “Where’s baby Kirsten?” and he would nestle his head on my belly, which is the sweetest, most heartwarming thing in the world.

The first time he did it, I almost started bawling at how incredibly picture perfect it was. That definitely made it to the list of “Most Awesome Mommy Moments Ever”.

I’m hoping that he actually knows that there’s a baby inside. Then again, he could be thinking that there are a million chocolate chip cookies inside, which could also explain why he’s hugging my belly so lovingly.

I wouldn’t be surprised either way.

pregnancy

Gynaes – Male or Female?

clooney ER

the doctor will see you now

I never quite put much thought into the whole male/female gynae issue. Maybe because female gynaes are severely outnumbered, I just decided to go with a male one (who’s pushing 70 I think). At first, I was definitely uncomfortable with the idea that some random dude would be well-acquainted with certain body parts, but then again, having some random chick do it is just as bad.

I have friends whose husbands will not let them go to a male gynae. As if he’s going to pull a fast one and try some monkey business. Ok, seriously, it’s not a pretty sight, and these gynaes are looking at body parts all day. I doubt they are going to pay much attention unless you happen to have some unusually large growth attached to your ass.

Even then, that’s not hot.

Good thing the husband was around for all the gynae visits, so it mostly felt like I was some specimen on display. There would be the gynae, the husband and 2 nurses standing around while I was being poked and prodded.

And of course the delivery was the absolute worst. I swear I have no sense of modesty left. In total, there were at least 10 people bustling around in the operating theater while I was sliced open like a piece of meat. I was too stoned from the epidural to care, but on retrospect, it does put everything into perspective. All I cared about was getting the baby out and then getting all sewn up nicely.

That was just the c-section experience. I hear that during vaginal delivery, all that pushing makes u defecate all over the delivery bed in front of a whole bunch of strangers. The thought of it alone is too embarrassing for words, which is why I’m going to stop eating 2 days before my EDD. I don’t mind the slicing, but I draw the line at crapping my guts out on the table. I mean, just think about the smell.

But that’s the thing. For those guys, it’s just their job. Some folks work with computers and some work with vaginas. At the end of the day, it’s all the same. Except more gross, I guess. I really feel sorry for the nurses that have to clean up after the whole debacle is over. Till this day, just cleaning my son’s ass is enough to make me regurgitate (I totally can’t keep a straight face).

Anyhow, I don’t know if there’s a difference between male and female gynaes cos all the ones I’ve tried so far are guys who are so old I’m surprised they can hold a scalpel with steady hands. Do the poll below -in favor of  dudes/chicks checking out your itsy bits? and I’d love to hear if you’ve got a weird experience with either.

 [poll id=4]

Funny or So I think, lists you should paste on your fridge, pregnancy, sexytime, stuff best described as not safe for parents

Birth induction methods you may (not) want to try

pregnantdrinker

a glass of wine may help

It was exactly this time during my first pregnancy that I gave birth to Tru. 38 weeks on the dot. But that was a c-section so I could pick an auspicious date to give birth. Waiting for the contractions to kick in is totally different. I feel so powerless. I’ve got my baby bag and all the baby stuff all ready and packed and it’s like waiting for Santa Claus to appear on Christmas eve. The anticipation is killing me. It’s my control-freak nature kicking in and I  just need to know exactly when it’s gonna happen.

Apparently for VBAC, a medical induction of labor increases the chance of womb rupture so it’s off limits. But I hear there are a few ways to induce birth and give the baby a little push as it were. It’s called ripening the cervix (it’s true!)

1. Acupuncture

It’s a tried and tested method by the Chinese and it’s supposed to be highly effective. Back when women used to bind their feet and slice off their pinkies, they realized that somehow jabbing a bunch of needles into various parts of the body triggers the contractions. It’s ingenious, don’t you think?

But seeing that pain avoidance is one of my life’s goals, acupuncture is in my list of Top 10 things NOT to do before I die (along with bungee jumping and eating fire).

2. Castor Oil

It’s a quick and painless method. Just take a few spoonfuls of it neat and wait a few minutes for it to take effect. It’s primarily a laxative, so there’s that nasty side effect where you lose all control of your bowels and start crapping involuntarily. It’s probably good if you hate the gynae/nurse and want to use it as a way to give them nightmares for days.

There’s no guarantee that it will work though, so you may just end up with a severe case of diarrhea.

3. Walking

This sounds pretty harmless. How it works is that it puts pressure on the cervix, causing it to dilate. Anyway it’s the kind of thing you can try without worrying about nasty side effects.

4. Nipple Stimulation

Touted as one of the most effective methods of natural induction, it’s definitely one of the most wildly popular. Mostly because no dude will turn down an invitation to engage in some nipple stimulation – “Boom-chica-wow-wow”.

But seriously, this causes a release of oxytocin, which causes contractions and lead to labor. (See, I’m not a total airhead, I actually know words like oxytocin)

5. Sexytime

As they say, what gets it in also gets it out. (who says that kind of thing anyway?) This is the next most popular method of birth induction, following closely behind the nipple stimulation.

The difference is, while most women are willing to tolerate some mild discomfort to the boobs, certain invasive methods at 38 weeks of pregnancy are too much of a hassle. There’s also the whole foreplay thing to contend with, and by the time there’s any action, you’re way too exhausted for the time to be the least bit sexy. And the focus is to get something out of there, not put something in, if you get what I mean.

I suppose the best thing to do is to sit around and wait till the baby is good and ready to come out. There’s a Chinese saying that goes something like “When the fruit is ready, it will fall off the vine”. Meaning that there’s no point rushing nature, cos all you’re going to end up with is an unripe fruit. Don’t ask me what that means. It’s too deep for my 38-week-pregnant brain.

If it’s up to me, Kirsten will be born on the 4th of July. So who knows, there might be some serious action on the 3rd. Woohoo!

pregnancy, sexytime

Two is enough…for now.

jon_and_kate_plus8

Jon and Kate plus 8. I'll get there, someday..

With 2 pregnancies back to back, I’ve been pregnant for so long I can’t remember what it feels like not to be pregnant. To wear regular clothes and dye my hair and bend over to cut my toenails without passing out. And I’ve been telling everyone who will listen that I NEED A BREAK. My body is screaming out for some respite and I have this nagging suspicion that it will go on strike if I have a third kid. Like completely break down and refuse to work.

Just the other day my mom (who adores kids) told me flat out that if I had another kid, Grandma won’t be coming to the rescue. There’s no way she’s watching 3 kids while I head out for my weekly movie breaks.

And I ended up having this totally weirdish conversation with her in the kitchen. Cos it’s always awkward talking to your mom about the details of your very active sex life.

Mom: You should consider some contraceptive methods after you give birth.

Me: *mumbles* Yeah, we’ll look into it.

Mom: It’s important to do some family planning, like see what options are available.

Me: *mumbles some more* Uh, yeah, I know.

She probably had a lot more to say, but I had to make a hasty getaway before the conversation ended up something like “Mommy’s favorite contraceptive was…” Ok, TOO. MUCH. INFORMATION.

That being said, I am definitely going to have some serious contraceptive plan after I pop (which will be reserved for another post) because I cannot handle having a third kid, at least not in the next 3 years. I need my life back. But the totally freaky thing is that I’ve been having this recurrent dream that almost immediately after Kirsten in born, I’m preggers again.

So in my dream I’m holding the pregnancy test strip and there’s that plus sign which means positive and I’m freaking out at the husband (it will be all his fault if it happens) and screaming “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO” at the top of my lungs.

And you’d think the dream ends there, but then it continues and suffice to say, at the end of the dream, I look like a cross between a hobo and Helena Bonham Carter, except with crazier hair and bloodshot eyes.

Repeat after me. Not going to happen.

pregnancy

I do not have small boobs

Yesterday was not a good day for my self-esteem. Now that I’m pushing 36 weeks and weigh about the same as a baby elephant, I’m feeling a tad touchy about my weight, if you know what I mean. Call me oversensitive, but when I get sucker-punched with a 3-hit combo all in a day, I start to get a little depressed.

So in the afternoon the husband had offered to go buy lunch back and since all I had for breakfast was a measly slice of peanut butter sandwich, I was feeling quite ravenously hungry (which does not happen all the time). And the cravings were kicking in.

Husband: Orders please.

Me: Can I have 1 packet of chicken rice with extra roasted pork and egg, 1 packet of rojak (it’s this mish-mash of fried doughsticks and pineapple layered with a thick, tangy sweet sauce that’s totally sinful) and an iced milk tea.

Husband: Wow, you sure you can eat all that?

Me: Are you calling me FAT? All I had all day was a tiny sandwich! FINE I’LL STARVE TO DEATH IF THAT’S WHAT YOU WANT!

***

Later that evening, we were heading out to a barbeque with a couple of friends. So this lady (whom I suspect has got a mild case of Tourette syndrome) came into the lift and as usual, my boy was doing his socializing thing, which led to the following conversation.

Lady: You’re so cute! Very chubby too. *Turns to look at me* Just like mommy…

Methinks: You did not just call me chubby, lady. It’s a child I’m carrying, not fats alright. And it’s not like you’re that thin yourself.

***

Finally, at the barbeque, I offered to bring my friend’s 3-year-old kid to the toilet since I needed to pee as well. And as I found out, kids say the darnest things.

Kid: Your stomach is so big.

Me: Yeah, there’s a baby inside. You wanna play with baby?

Kid: *glances at my boobs* But your ‘that one’ is not big.

Me: Which one?

Kid: *points to my boobs* That one.

Methinks: Right… Maybe your view is obscured by the giant stomach, but I can assure you, they are of a very decent size.

***

In the span of 10 hours, I had 3 people call me fat/big/chubby (all the same thing as far as I’m concerned). And also, I’ve got small boobs.

not feeling so supermom, pregnancy

I hate my life and everything sucks and I just want to curl up and cry

Shucks, the hormones are going crazy again. I just had a mini meltdown yesterday over absolutely nothing. One moment I was calmly having dinner with the husband and next thing I know, I’m bawling like a baby. The thing is, I’m not even sure what really triggered it off. I think it was probably the accumulated exhaustion, the excruciating pain in my back and the impending delivery. I suddenly felt like I was drowning.

Husband: Are you alright? You seem awfully quiet today.

Me: Yeah I’m fine.

*Extended silence

Husband: Babe, you sure you’re ok?

Me: BWAAAHHHHHH… I thaid I’m phine tho just thop asking ok! BWAAHHHH… AAHHHHHH

Like I said, total meltdown. The mood swings are ruining my life.

To put it into perspective, I’m not accustomed to losing it like this. Or so I think (the husband might beg to differ). But 2 pregnancies back to back has thrown all my hormones into overdrive, and for the first time in my life, I’m behaving like a neurotic, manic and schizophrenic all rolled into one. And I totally can’t help it. My brain knows I’m acting crazy, but it’s not listening to reason.

It was really bad just after I gave birth to Tru. With the c-section and a screaming infant, my post natal depression was off the charts. I remember sobbing uncontrollably for hours everyday during the first 2 weeks postpartum. Out of the blue I’d just sit down and cry (not the half-ass cry but a massive mucus-flying kind of major sob fest). I would try to stop, but I just felt too depressed.

Accursed hormones.

I’m hoping it wouldn’t be so bad with Kirsten. But by the looks of it, I think I’m in for another bout of baby blues. It’s time to brace yourselves.

PS. I don’t really hate my life. Except when it sucks.