Browsing Tag

obgyn

Labour Pain Relief Measures

June 12, 2009

Yesterday was one of my final few visits to the gynae. Kirsten is doing well. She says hi, but I shan’t bore you with more ultrasound pics that look exactly the same as the last one. Anyway, it was time to discuss my birthing plan and decide on pain management options during the labor.

When Tru was born, I didn’t have to go through the whole labor process. I was at the gynae’s office for a routine check in the morning and decided on that day to have the c-section at 5 in the evening. No bursting of water bag, no contractions, none of that drama that makes the whole process so exciting. The only thing even mildly interesting was the fact that I snuck out for a final decent meal despite being told that I wasn’t supposed to eat before the surgery. I couldn’t bear the thought of not having real food for the next month without any mental preparation.

The experience was rather sterile actually. I was given an epidural to numb the nerves from waist down (which HURT LIKE CRAZY) and after that, I pretty much just stared at the lights above the operating table while the OBGYN did his thing.

This time, I’m determined to go experience what it’s like to push a child out from my va-jay-jay and do the whole crazy woman scream with sweat pouring down my face thing. It’ll be so much more fun.

So the birthing plan goes like this. When the water bag bursts and I start contracting, I’m going to take a shower, wash my hair, grab some ice-cream, drop Tru at my mom’s place and then fly down to the hospital. The moment I get in, I’m start hollering for an epidural (when else can I get away with screaming at people just for the fun of it?) and demand for ice chips, magazines and my Nintendo DS. With the epi, it’s practically a walk in the park after that. I only hope I don’t poop on the table.

Props to the gynae for keeping a straight face when he heard my plan. And double props for actually agreeing to go along. He says it’s my delivery, I should get to do it my way, as long as I don’t insist on giving birth at home.

He did however, ask me to consider the various pain management options before I decide. So I’m considering.

and the greatest of these..is silent birth

1. Deep breathing.

Seriously. Deep breathing. The only way breathing is going to take away any pain is if I take a deep breath and hold it in forever. Then I might pass out and die and feel no pain. Other than that, deep breathing is rubbish. I did hear some new age, mind-over-matter techniques that can reduce pain. You’re supposed to take deep breaths, close your eyes and imagine your cervix opening up like a flower. Yeah, right.

2. Laughing gas.

its funny, i'm in so much pain but i don't seem to care?

There’s nothing funny about it though. The effect is like smoking weed – it makes you high and you can then actually imagine your cervix opening up like a flower. Or a butterfly. Or the mouth of a giant T-rex eating up half of Singapore. The thing is, some say it doesn’t actually block the pain, it just makes your brain a little fuzzy in the hope that the pain signals get all mixed up and gets sent to your big toe instead of your cerebral cortex. Except that when it doesn’t work, you end up being high and in a lot of pain. Not a good combination.

3. Epidural

the epidural needle, actual size

This is the only method that is guaranteed to take away the pain. But to administer the epidural hurts big time. They have to inject a tube into the spine in order to pump in the meds, so at the end of the day, it’s a matter of using pain to counteract the pain. But once it kicks in, you can practically chill out, have a cuppa and read a book while your cervix will take its time to open up like a flower without having to imagine it into existence.

I’ve got a fourth method which I’ve worked out with the husband. After I get to the hospital, he’s supposed to knock me out with a small dose of chloroform and pretend that I’m asleep while the doctor administers the epi. Once it’s all good, I’ll wake up and deliver Kirsten without any pain at all. We’re still in the process of determining the right amount of chloroform to use. The last trial run, I was out for 2 days, so we’ll probably have to dilute it a bit more.

Just make sure you don’t try this at home.

by Daphne

milestones & musings

Finally, the big ONE

June 2, 2009

It’s officially my baby boy’s first birthday today, and I can’t help feeling like one proud mama. Just like that, it’s been a year. 365 days of toil and tears, but also 365 days of love and laughter. In short, it’s been the best year of my life.

This time last year, I was lying on the operating table (fully awake, mind you) with my stomach sliced open and blood all over the table. I could actually see the entire goings-on thanks to the nurse who was holding a reflective metal dish just above my abdomen. My OBGYN thought I was blissfully unaware of what was happening, and I decided to play along. I was too intrigued to be able to witness the whole birthing process.

Then there was this moment where I finally heard the first cry of my little trooper as he came out screaming and kicking. But it was not until they wrapped him up and put him on my chest that it started to sink in. It was so surreal to see this tiny little guy with a headful of armani-styled hair and pouty lips looking back at me and involuntarily, I felt myself tearing.

Somehow, I knew my life was never going to be the same again.

So on this special day, here’s what I’d really like to say.

Tru,

Next to marrying your father, finding out that I was pregnant with you was the happiest moment of my life. I couldn’t have asked for a better, smarter, cuter, happier or fun-ner first kid. It’s not easy being a mom, but you make my job seem like a piece of cake.

You go to sleep on your own at 7.30 every night, eat your vegetables and clean the house for me. The best part of my day is waking up and seeing you every morning, knowing that you’ll reserve your biggest grin for mama. I love snuggling in bed with you before and after your naps as you tumble around and burrow your head like you’re digging your way to China. I relish the times that you climb onto my lap just to be held (even though it usually lasts for 5 seconds max) and look at me with those soulful eyes.

I could go on about all the little stuff you do that makes me go all gooey inside (just don’t exploit it when you grow up). But I just want to say thanks for loving us the way you do.

You’re growing up really fast. Those days when you were flailing around with your skinny chicken legs seem like a lifetime ago, and every day, I watch you grow a little bigger and a lot smarter. You’re going to become a fine young man before I know it. So before I forget, here’s a list of your mother’s words of wisdom (get ready for some serious fromage).

1. Dare to dream and live those dreams

Life’s too awesome to be afraid of failing. Attempt the spectacular and do the stuff that people don’t even dare to dream of. You’re made of tougher stuff, so even if you fall flat on your ass and the world is sniggering, just get up, flick the dust off your clothes and grin like it’s the funniest thing in the world. Then turn around and try it again. You’ll at least have 2 crazy fans cheering you on.

2. Love people with a passion

Last time I checked, wimpy, half-hearted displays of affection aren’t worth much. If you don’t love people until it hurts you in the gut, then it doesn’t really count and you’re better off not loving them at all.

3. Develop a backbone

I can’t tell you how important it is to grow a spine and be a person of integrity. Do the difficult thing and make tough choices. If you take the easy way out all the time, all you end up with at the end of your life is a truckload of wasted potential and missed opportunities.

4. Smile and the whole world smiles with you

You’ve already got a head start in this department. With your shy, boyish grin, it’s enough to make any heart melt when you turn on the charm. Don’t believe in that pessimist, I’m-just-a-realist nonsense. Optimists take over the world and make things happen. Smell the roses and bathe underneath the waterfalls. And especially when it sucks to do it, take a deep breath and smile.

5. Friendships are the most important thing

It’s no fun at all going through life alone and brooding loners usually are that way not by choice, but by the lack of it. Learn to be the kind of friend that stands in the face of adversity and is not afraid to tell the truth when it hurts.

You are going to rock this world.

Happy Birthday, my boy.

by Daphne

pregnancy

Do I really want to bore you with ultrasound pictures?

May 14, 2009

I’m crazy about babies. Probably more than the average human being. I’m the kind of passer-by that stops dead in my tracks and goes all googly-eyed at cute babies on the street. I once had a collection of Anne Geddes babies that would rotate daily on my wallpaper (till it suddenly dawned upon me that some of the pictures were a bit creepy).

Now, when I first saw Tru’s ultrasound photo, I honestly didn’t know how to react. There was this black mass staring back at me, and it looked nothing like all the cute babies I’ve been visualizing. He’s a stunning boy now, but back then, he was a cross between a giant-headed prawn and a martian. I was also secretly worried that he’ll come out all squishy and scary-looking. Before you tsk, tsk at me, I know moms are supposed to love their kids unconditionally, but deep down inside, we all hope our kids are drop-dead gorgeous.

Needless to say, I’m not a fan of collecting ultrasound pictures, even when they’re of my kids. Half the time, I can’t make out which is the head or bum. I was at the gynae yesterday taking a look at Kiki (until I find a better nickname) and my obgyn was patiently pointing out her various body parts. I had half a mind to tell him the scan looked nothing like an elbow or a head, but I I didn’t want to seem like a bad mother, so I did the usual mom thing and raved about how cute she was.

But that being said, I like my gynae visits. Looking at the ultrasound and listening to her heartbeat makes it seem like she’s really there. I know it’s bizarre, since she makes her presence felt by jabbing me in the kidney or bladder ever so often, but being able to see her makes it so much more real, which in turn makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Incidentally, despite my best efforts to keep her small, I’ve been informed that Kirsten is weighing in on the big side. (I hope she’s not fat when she grows up) I’ve got the remaining 8 weeks to starve her in order to have a serious shot at VBAC (or Vaginal Birth After Cesarean, for the less informed). Another C-section will kill all hopes of having 7 kids, so I’m going to have to squeeze her out of my pelvis one way or the other. Which also means I’ll be having severe durian withdrawal until after the delivery.

Anyway, to spread the love, here’s a sneak preview of how the little princess will look like. (Use a bit of imagination, will you?)

face

by Daphne