I am so grateful for the second chance of being a mother.
The first time around, the cloudiness of my mind, the struggle of breastfeeding, the eagerness to control my baby's schedule didn't allow me to enjoy the experience of being a mother. The confidence and the right expectations of we are about to face, and the training camp that Jack-Jack made me go through certainly prepared me well for my second chance.
So one week into my second chance of motherhood, I am really enjoying all of it. The marathon feeding sessions, the late night cuddles and wakings to her searching for my warmth and milk. I no longer want to control, I just want to be, be the mother that I wasn't able to be the first time around.
Little V is a little champion, feeding well and pooping like a monster. I forgot how many changes of clothes and laundry we need to go through! I am also so used to my sleep being broken up that the four feeding sessions at night no longer bothers me. Jack-Jack is being very gentle to his little sister, although occasionally I sense him getting a little bit jealous and needs more of our attention. Our confinement lady is an absolute delight. Overall I am loving being a family of four, and this new phase of our lives.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Thursday, January 8, 2015
Jan 6: The Arrival of Veronique
The story should start with my 40th birthday on January 5, 2015.
Nothing happened on the labour front, but I did enjoy a wonderful evening at home with Mic and Jack-Jack for a sweet and intimate celebration. Mic prepared the most thoughtful gift -- a SCMP cartoonist poster with highlights of our 15 years together, It was the second one of its kind. The first one I received on January 5, 2001, after our first year of being together. Two delightful SIFT cupcakes and an around-the-world skype session with family singing happy birthday later, I was happily in bed by 830pm.
By midnight, what I thought was an upset stomach from too much spicy food turned out to be the start of my regular contractions and the "real labour" I had been waiting for. I called our doula, Liz, immediately after seeing the slightly pink discharge knowing its the mucus plug, and then started to make sure our bags for the hospital were all packed. I pulled out the TENS machine (by the way, this is the BEST invention for anyone who wants a non-medicated child birth, and the most effective pain relief for the 19 hours of labour I experienced in the end) and started to count through the intervals of my contractions which were about 10 minutes apart. Liz told us to get in the bath if things start to get a little unbearable and see if the intensity would ease, and that's usually a good indication if things are really starting or not, which we did around 1am. Our doula made her way over and showed up around 2am, by which point the contractions were around 6-8 minutes apart, and simply breathing through it was not enough. So I had to pull out other tricks from the tool kit to cope -- the birth ball, the swaying of the hips, and vocalization. Never had I said so many Om's Ahhh-a's and Wooo's in my life with such concentration. By 3am Liz told us to try lying down and see if there's a way to get a little bit of rest in between. I did wonder how could anyone sleep when the contractions comes at such a short interval but I guess I was tired enough that I did manage to doze off during those 6-8 minute breaks, with one lucky 20 minute break in between as well. We all got a little of that much needed shut eye after being up most of the night. By 7am I was awake again, and eager to see what I should be doing next. We had a little breakfast, and while mic was getting another power nap, Liz and I went for an hour long walk up Bowen road. I was really determined to make sure I was doing everything I can to progress the labour and make the cervix dilate. Of course I needed to pause along the way whenever a contraction wave would begin and I am sure the strangers passing by must be wondering what is going on at the scene of a pregnant lady swaying her hips and humming "Om" by the side of the street with another woman standing behind her squeezing her hips.
By 1030am, we decided to head to the hospital, thinking that we are getting close to the real show beginning and was hoping that we would see little Veronique by mid afternoon.
It was interesting as soon as we got to the hospital things started to slow down a bit. I am not sure if it was the change of environment that got me out of my zone or the mere fact of being confined to a bed and tied to a monitor for 30 mins while they check the fetal heart rate and contractions made me really uncomfortable. As soon as I was allowed to walk around, things started going stronger again and I was encouraged by the fact that I was coping really well when the monitor shows the intensity of the contractions were at about 80%, and I was certainly thinking I could take on more pain without drugs at ease.
By noon the nurses came to do a pelvis check only to reveal that the cervix was softening but still completely closed. I thought to myself that's not a good sign but if I get up to walk more and make the contractions stronger perhaps we can progress the labour further. At 3pm my OBGYN doctor came and checked me again and told me the cervix is still closed, and most likely it is because the baby is still in a posterior position which means that labour is prolonged and will be very painful. I felt totally defeated by the news. It was one thing if I was taking all this pain while making progress, it was a completely different matter when all of the past 15 hours of labour was just a wasted effort. The doctor suggested for us to think about a back-up plan of an emergency C-section because if labour doesn't progress and the contractions are still getting stronger, then both the baby and me (my uterus) will be under a lot of stress. We made the decision at 6pm after a final check and the cervix was only 1cm dilated to call it quits and arrange for the C-section at 730pm.
I cried so hard even though I knew that one can never know/control how labour will go and just about anything can happen, but it was so far off what I wanted. The fact that I had endured about 19 hours of labour with zero drugs and feeling absolutely exhausted made me wonder if things haven't even begun then how much longer of labour can I physically handle. I cried for all the effort that went down the drain. I cried over that natural birth I will probably never ever get to experience in my life. I knew I had to make the responsible decision for the healthy delivery of my baby, whether its through my vagina or not, and I cannot make her suffer through my stubbornness. Mic and my doula were both just amazing at supporting me through this. At the end of the day, I did get to experience labour (a good 19 hours of it, and quite proud of making it through with all my will), let Veronique chose her own timing of coming to the world, as I knew she and I were both ready to meet each other.
At 814pm, Veronique was born.
It may not have been the birth I wanted. But I am determined to enjoy the motherhood I wanted.
I was wholeheartedly expecting that she would arrive on my birthday, since pending her arrival it was impossible to plan any party for my own BIG 40th birthday. All party plans were on hold and all we had planned for the day was the fetal monitoring session at the hospital arranged by the doctor as he was worried about the placenta function may deteriorate after the due date. I was thinking it would be perfect if labor would start while we were at the hospital, and my birthday present from the universe would just be the wonderful experience of a perfect natural birth that I had been preparing for, and the cocktail of endorphins at birth bringing me to an all time high I have never dreamed I could experience.
Of course, nothing quite follows the perfect plan. The monitoring session finished by mid day, I had a few contractions but they were very very light and very irregular. Baby was fine as she was just her good old active self and fetal monitoring showed normal results. The scheduled C section date was only two days away and I was starting worry if I would even get to experience labour if things carried on the way it was. So I followed the old wives tales and went to town on spicy food -- I already had two meals at Hong Kong's two best sichuan restaurants, and I went back for lunch again on January 5th hoping the last boost of chili would get things going. After lunch I proceeded to walk 30 mins from the hospital to causeway bay for an acupuncture session, and then took the long route home with some more walking.
Nothing happened on the labour front, but I did enjoy a wonderful evening at home with Mic and Jack-Jack for a sweet and intimate celebration. Mic prepared the most thoughtful gift -- a SCMP cartoonist poster with highlights of our 15 years together, It was the second one of its kind. The first one I received on January 5, 2001, after our first year of being together. Two delightful SIFT cupcakes and an around-the-world skype session with family singing happy birthday later, I was happily in bed by 830pm.
By midnight, what I thought was an upset stomach from too much spicy food turned out to be the start of my regular contractions and the "real labour" I had been waiting for. I called our doula, Liz, immediately after seeing the slightly pink discharge knowing its the mucus plug, and then started to make sure our bags for the hospital were all packed. I pulled out the TENS machine (by the way, this is the BEST invention for anyone who wants a non-medicated child birth, and the most effective pain relief for the 19 hours of labour I experienced in the end) and started to count through the intervals of my contractions which were about 10 minutes apart. Liz told us to get in the bath if things start to get a little unbearable and see if the intensity would ease, and that's usually a good indication if things are really starting or not, which we did around 1am. Our doula made her way over and showed up around 2am, by which point the contractions were around 6-8 minutes apart, and simply breathing through it was not enough. So I had to pull out other tricks from the tool kit to cope -- the birth ball, the swaying of the hips, and vocalization. Never had I said so many Om's Ahhh-a's and Wooo's in my life with such concentration. By 3am Liz told us to try lying down and see if there's a way to get a little bit of rest in between. I did wonder how could anyone sleep when the contractions comes at such a short interval but I guess I was tired enough that I did manage to doze off during those 6-8 minute breaks, with one lucky 20 minute break in between as well. We all got a little of that much needed shut eye after being up most of the night. By 7am I was awake again, and eager to see what I should be doing next. We had a little breakfast, and while mic was getting another power nap, Liz and I went for an hour long walk up Bowen road. I was really determined to make sure I was doing everything I can to progress the labour and make the cervix dilate. Of course I needed to pause along the way whenever a contraction wave would begin and I am sure the strangers passing by must be wondering what is going on at the scene of a pregnant lady swaying her hips and humming "Om" by the side of the street with another woman standing behind her squeezing her hips.
By 1030am, we decided to head to the hospital, thinking that we are getting close to the real show beginning and was hoping that we would see little Veronique by mid afternoon.
It was interesting as soon as we got to the hospital things started to slow down a bit. I am not sure if it was the change of environment that got me out of my zone or the mere fact of being confined to a bed and tied to a monitor for 30 mins while they check the fetal heart rate and contractions made me really uncomfortable. As soon as I was allowed to walk around, things started going stronger again and I was encouraged by the fact that I was coping really well when the monitor shows the intensity of the contractions were at about 80%, and I was certainly thinking I could take on more pain without drugs at ease.
By noon the nurses came to do a pelvis check only to reveal that the cervix was softening but still completely closed. I thought to myself that's not a good sign but if I get up to walk more and make the contractions stronger perhaps we can progress the labour further. At 3pm my OBGYN doctor came and checked me again and told me the cervix is still closed, and most likely it is because the baby is still in a posterior position which means that labour is prolonged and will be very painful. I felt totally defeated by the news. It was one thing if I was taking all this pain while making progress, it was a completely different matter when all of the past 15 hours of labour was just a wasted effort. The doctor suggested for us to think about a back-up plan of an emergency C-section because if labour doesn't progress and the contractions are still getting stronger, then both the baby and me (my uterus) will be under a lot of stress. We made the decision at 6pm after a final check and the cervix was only 1cm dilated to call it quits and arrange for the C-section at 730pm.
I cried so hard even though I knew that one can never know/control how labour will go and just about anything can happen, but it was so far off what I wanted. The fact that I had endured about 19 hours of labour with zero drugs and feeling absolutely exhausted made me wonder if things haven't even begun then how much longer of labour can I physically handle. I cried for all the effort that went down the drain. I cried over that natural birth I will probably never ever get to experience in my life. I knew I had to make the responsible decision for the healthy delivery of my baby, whether its through my vagina or not, and I cannot make her suffer through my stubbornness. Mic and my doula were both just amazing at supporting me through this. At the end of the day, I did get to experience labour (a good 19 hours of it, and quite proud of making it through with all my will), let Veronique chose her own timing of coming to the world, as I knew she and I were both ready to meet each other.
At 814pm, Veronique was born.
It may not have been the birth I wanted. But I am determined to enjoy the motherhood I wanted.
Saturday, January 3, 2015
Week 40: Full Term (D+1)
So here I am, made it through the delicious New Year's Eve dinner hosted by my NY friend visiting HK, and reached full term yesterday, on January 2 -- A full 40 weeks. Doctor said the baby is around 3.3-3.5 kg now, so a bit heavier than Jack-Jack when he was born at 2.79kg. He checked the pelvis size and confirmed that everything is okay for me to attempt a VBAC.
Still no sign of labour yet. The contractions have become a bit more frequent but no consistent enough. I wonder if the little lady is really waiting to share my birthday with me. Last night I thought things were getting started, I had a bit more intense contractions every 15-20 mins for about three hours, but then it died down again after I went to bed. In a way that was good, I didn't really want to deal with the drama of getting to the hospital in the middle of the night, having to wake everyone up and be a in foul mood. Now I had a pretty decent night's sleep and ready to go again. We scheduled in a C-section on January 7 just in case, as doctor doesn't want me to go beyond one week post term since there's a risk of the placenta function deteriorating. And I know I am not trying to do a natural delivery at all cost, so I am fine with that decision. If she doesn't come out by then on her own, we will just have to make her.
I went for my last Osteopathic appointment yesterday, the doctor did some pressure point stimulation to get the labour process going, and of course helped to release yet again those aching muscles that just seem to be with me 24/7 now. I feel that I am as ready as could be, just waiting for the final moment to meet her.
Now the most annoying thing is the ugly red worm like stretch marks decided to make an appearance on my belly the last 2 days. At first I was wondering if was just the marks of the elastics on my pants, but as they clearly were not going away hours after the pants were off, so they are confirmed to be stretch marks. The images that I googled with my first pregnancy and prayed that I will never get is now a permanent mark of my body. I guess I just have to wear them forever as a proud mark of me carrying my baby to full term and my tummy size is at the astronomical largest it can ever be. It's really time to come out, my little lady, before the paintbrush of your evidence inside me gets out of control.
Still no sign of labour yet. The contractions have become a bit more frequent but no consistent enough. I wonder if the little lady is really waiting to share my birthday with me. Last night I thought things were getting started, I had a bit more intense contractions every 15-20 mins for about three hours, but then it died down again after I went to bed. In a way that was good, I didn't really want to deal with the drama of getting to the hospital in the middle of the night, having to wake everyone up and be a in foul mood. Now I had a pretty decent night's sleep and ready to go again. We scheduled in a C-section on January 7 just in case, as doctor doesn't want me to go beyond one week post term since there's a risk of the placenta function deteriorating. And I know I am not trying to do a natural delivery at all cost, so I am fine with that decision. If she doesn't come out by then on her own, we will just have to make her.
I went for my last Osteopathic appointment yesterday, the doctor did some pressure point stimulation to get the labour process going, and of course helped to release yet again those aching muscles that just seem to be with me 24/7 now. I feel that I am as ready as could be, just waiting for the final moment to meet her.
Now the most annoying thing is the ugly red worm like stretch marks decided to make an appearance on my belly the last 2 days. At first I was wondering if was just the marks of the elastics on my pants, but as they clearly were not going away hours after the pants were off, so they are confirmed to be stretch marks. The images that I googled with my first pregnancy and prayed that I will never get is now a permanent mark of my body. I guess I just have to wear them forever as a proud mark of me carrying my baby to full term and my tummy size is at the astronomical largest it can ever be. It's really time to come out, my little lady, before the paintbrush of your evidence inside me gets out of control.
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