Friday, February 27, 2009
Papa's Shots
Give derod a few minutes with the camera and this is what you'll get. Either the papa has got some magical way of getting the shots or the little one is just full of expressions, even at this stage (less than 1 month old).
Monday, February 23, 2009
The Pop-Story
Disclaimer: Very long and detailed post ahead. For the sake of my failing memory and the few who are interested in details.
My firstborn was delivered 38 weeks and 5 days into my pregnancy and I was hence most certain that #2 would arrive about two weeks earlier than the expected delivery date. In fact, "38 weeks" in this case would coincide with the week of the Chinese New Year. A part of me hoped history would repeat itself, yet the other felt it would be totally ridiculous to have two kids born on the first day of the lunar new year.
So when I felt some irregular contractions on the eve of the new year, I was seriously wondering if this great coincidence would really take place. I didn't sleep that night; the contractions were rather uncomfortable. But they weren't regular or painful enough to deter me from visiting the next day, where we discovered that it was a false alarm.
Irregular spurts of pain struck again on the evening of 27 February and by 2am (then already 28 February), third day of the lunar new year, I was hit with a sudden wave of intense pain. It was almost like a jump of 1 to 6 on the pain scale and that was when I knew the time had come. I tossed and writhed in bed until 4am, until the pain escalated up another notch, woke derod, rang my parents to come watch Gabe, and got ready to get to the hospital. By this time I was huffing and puffing at every contraction, trying to get the breathing exercises going in dealing with the pain.
My in-laws' car was with us and derod drove us leisurely to the hospital. Just as we were about to make the turn into its compounds, we realised we forgot my wallet, in which contained my identity card. Thus began the return journey back across the island. It was about 6am when we finally checked ourselves in to the delivery suite and I was hungry, tired and in pain.
Derod managed a photo of me in between contractions, still in my own clothes.
The nurses helped to hook me up to the monitors and a good looking young doctor came in to ask routine questions. He mentioned that his senior would be coming in shortly to see how far along I was. Eye-candy came back a little later to do the examination instead (so we figured there weren't any seniors available). Surprisingly, they weren't as painful as I remembered them to be. I rated them 11 on the pain scale of 1 to 10 during Gabe's time. Eye-candy said that I was quite far ahead and when I pushed him on the measurements, declared 8cm. 8cm!! And the pain was still quite bearable. I was euphoric! There was actually a chance I could do this without medication (something I wanted to try) and get over with it soon! But soon the nurses and the anesthetist on standby started saying that I was too comfortable for someone so close to delivery.
The anesthetist proceeded to give me a preliminary overview on the option of an epidural and advised that his personal cut off point for 2nd births and above was 5-6cm. He explained that it would usually take a very short time to get to the final stage of labour from then and that the benefits should outweigh the risks in general for the administering of the epidural. I did a quick mental calculation at that point. If 3cm was the minimal requirement for the painkiller, and 5cm was his cutoff point, that doesn't leave me with much room, doesn't it. We spent the next few hours huffing and puffing (that's me), catching catnaps and watching HBO. Yes, the delivery suite has got cable facilities.
When Prof (my gynae) finally came in to check on me at 9am, he declared I was 4cm dilated with mild contractions. Then he got eye candy to come in and gave him a lesson on how to check out (pardon the pun) women who are about to deliver. He even asked eye candy to do another examination there and then, much like on-the-job-training, and then turned to me for permission. I replied that I was nice, but not that nice. So the poor chap missed out on a learning experience. Anyway, we discussed my pain options and Prof gave the ok for the epidural. A part of me was relieved and happy since I know how blissful a painless second stage of labour can be. But well, there was always the hope of being brave and gungho and go all the way without medication as assistance. So I was given an IV and the anesthetist was called in. He did his stuff and it didn't take me too long to look like this:
The nurses came in regularly to take my blood pressure and temperature. Another guy (I'm not sure if he's a doctor or gynae or medical officers; we figured there were just too many layers of the hierarchy in that place) came in to burst my water bag to hasten the contractions. Basically the experience this round was quite different from the last. The nurses came in very regularly to check on my status and kept telling me it would be soon. They too seemed eager to the baby out. It could be because it was day time and everyone was alert or that second births are generally faster. All this while, we were still catnapping or going strong on HBO.
I was introduced to two very young ladies who were on internship from ITE, training to be paramedics. They wouldn't be older than 21 and was here to pick up skills of delivery should they be required to assist in deliveries in case of emergencies. They would be observing the delivery. Another lady from a research institute also came in to introduce her project and requested for some of my placenta and baby's saliva. We consented to providing a small sample, answered questions and signed papers.
By about 1 to 2pm, I was declared ready to push and my epidural was switched off. I remember feeling strong sensations that aided pushing during Gabe's birth and was looking out for similar signs but found none. The nurses attempted to get me going but I told them that I couldn't feel anything and hence could not push well. I asked for more time for the painkiller to wear off and by about 3pm, called the team in and practise started. I say practise because this is literally a practice indicating another form of the hierarchy in the system.
You see, the nurses would get the woman to push until the baby's head is at a satisfactory position before calling the gynae in for the works. That way, the doctor won't have to sit there and waste heaps of time waiting for the woman to learn how to push (some first time labours can take up to 2-3 hours of pushing). I was told I'm a good pusher and for both births, once I've reached "satisfactory" status, they had to page Prof more than once to get him to come down as soon as possible.
So here I was, sitting up in preparation for pushing and the familiar urge to throw up returned yet again. If you have not noticed a pattern, me and pregnancies and throwing up go a long way together. So since I've not had a bite since dinner on 27 Feb (it's now 2pm on 28 Feb), and was awake for almost all of that time, all that came up was water and bile. Now even this has a positive side to it -- the nurses applauded the act, saying that it'll help the baby to come down even lower. Fyi, if there's one thing that everyone who examined me can agree on, it's that baby's head is very low and pushing her out should be really easy.
The rah-rah team was quite large, double that of Gabe's: derod, Prof, main nurse, two interns, matron supervising the two interns, and the random nurses who came in to assist with equipment and rou after she was born.
While I was going strong, Prof arrived and got into his gear. He wasn't quietly dressing, mind you. He was observing the situation and calling out "good! good! you're doing very well!" while sitting there and putting on his size 11 PCK boots.
It was hard work, as was the first time. The adrenaline was with the rah-rah team cheering me on. They kept telling me not to waste the effort of the pushes and to push harder. I only understood the meaning of this instruction/ encouragement later when derod gave a more detailed description of the actual on-goings. But between the contractions, when there wasn't any pain, everyone went into break-mode immediately -- the team was standing around chatting and derod and I went back to watching HBO and we'll all just laugh and joke about things here and there. A few seconds later when the contractions struck again (I felt the sensations, the team looked at the monitors), we'll be back in action again.
This went on for a few cycles - push like mad, HBO, push like mad, HBO - and then everyone was suddenly quite relaxed. I was a little puzzled and, still panting from the effort, asked around, "what happened? Is the baby's head out? Is it out?" They seemed to take their time in answering me. I figured that it's because they now have real work to do i.e. handle the baby. So yes, derod, and later Prof, confirmed. They sucked the fluids out of her nose and she took her first breath of life. Another small push and a shoulder is out. Yet another and the other shoulder came out too. A final push and I felt rou slip out.
Prof placed her on my chest and severed her connection with me by cutting the umbilical cord. Rou was taken to be cleaned, weighed, measured and bathed. I was stitched and cleaned up and was able to sit up not too long after. I was still throwing up and was given an anti-vomitting jab, which ended up with very bad repercussions.
Little girl resting happily on the warmer, alert to the surroundings and thrusting her tongue all this while.
All done! Stayed in the delivery suite for mandatory observation after labour.
Note the puke-pan still next to me.
They transferred me to my room a little later and I pretty much rested till the next day. With the exception of feeding rou, I didn't do much, not even send out the news of the delivery. I took my first walk (to the loo) that night and by the next day, was quite my usual self again.
The experiences of giving birth to my two children were dramatic and different and their memories will stay with me for the rest of my life. And I can finally understand what John 16:21 meant when it said "A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her hour is come: but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world."
My first proper picture with my daughter.
My firstborn was delivered 38 weeks and 5 days into my pregnancy and I was hence most certain that #2 would arrive about two weeks earlier than the expected delivery date. In fact, "38 weeks" in this case would coincide with the week of the Chinese New Year. A part of me hoped history would repeat itself, yet the other felt it would be totally ridiculous to have two kids born on the first day of the lunar new year.
So when I felt some irregular contractions on the eve of the new year, I was seriously wondering if this great coincidence would really take place. I didn't sleep that night; the contractions were rather uncomfortable. But they weren't regular or painful enough to deter me from visiting the next day, where we discovered that it was a false alarm.
Irregular spurts of pain struck again on the evening of 27 February and by 2am (then already 28 February), third day of the lunar new year, I was hit with a sudden wave of intense pain. It was almost like a jump of 1 to 6 on the pain scale and that was when I knew the time had come. I tossed and writhed in bed until 4am, until the pain escalated up another notch, woke derod, rang my parents to come watch Gabe, and got ready to get to the hospital. By this time I was huffing and puffing at every contraction, trying to get the breathing exercises going in dealing with the pain.
My in-laws' car was with us and derod drove us leisurely to the hospital. Just as we were about to make the turn into its compounds, we realised we forgot my wallet, in which contained my identity card. Thus began the return journey back across the island. It was about 6am when we finally checked ourselves in to the delivery suite and I was hungry, tired and in pain.
Derod managed a photo of me in between contractions, still in my own clothes.The nurses helped to hook me up to the monitors and a good looking young doctor came in to ask routine questions. He mentioned that his senior would be coming in shortly to see how far along I was. Eye-candy came back a little later to do the examination instead (so we figured there weren't any seniors available). Surprisingly, they weren't as painful as I remembered them to be. I rated them 11 on the pain scale of 1 to 10 during Gabe's time. Eye-candy said that I was quite far ahead and when I pushed him on the measurements, declared 8cm. 8cm!! And the pain was still quite bearable. I was euphoric! There was actually a chance I could do this without medication (something I wanted to try) and get over with it soon! But soon the nurses and the anesthetist on standby started saying that I was too comfortable for someone so close to delivery.
The anesthetist proceeded to give me a preliminary overview on the option of an epidural and advised that his personal cut off point for 2nd births and above was 5-6cm. He explained that it would usually take a very short time to get to the final stage of labour from then and that the benefits should outweigh the risks in general for the administering of the epidural. I did a quick mental calculation at that point. If 3cm was the minimal requirement for the painkiller, and 5cm was his cutoff point, that doesn't leave me with much room, doesn't it. We spent the next few hours huffing and puffing (that's me), catching catnaps and watching HBO. Yes, the delivery suite has got cable facilities.
When Prof (my gynae) finally came in to check on me at 9am, he declared I was 4cm dilated with mild contractions. Then he got eye candy to come in and gave him a lesson on how to check out (pardon the pun) women who are about to deliver. He even asked eye candy to do another examination there and then, much like on-the-job-training, and then turned to me for permission. I replied that I was nice, but not that nice. So the poor chap missed out on a learning experience. Anyway, we discussed my pain options and Prof gave the ok for the epidural. A part of me was relieved and happy since I know how blissful a painless second stage of labour can be. But well, there was always the hope of being brave and gungho and go all the way without medication as assistance. So I was given an IV and the anesthetist was called in. He did his stuff and it didn't take me too long to look like this:
The nurses came in regularly to take my blood pressure and temperature. Another guy (I'm not sure if he's a doctor or gynae or medical officers; we figured there were just too many layers of the hierarchy in that place) came in to burst my water bag to hasten the contractions. Basically the experience this round was quite different from the last. The nurses came in very regularly to check on my status and kept telling me it would be soon. They too seemed eager to the baby out. It could be because it was day time and everyone was alert or that second births are generally faster. All this while, we were still catnapping or going strong on HBO.
I was introduced to two very young ladies who were on internship from ITE, training to be paramedics. They wouldn't be older than 21 and was here to pick up skills of delivery should they be required to assist in deliveries in case of emergencies. They would be observing the delivery. Another lady from a research institute also came in to introduce her project and requested for some of my placenta and baby's saliva. We consented to providing a small sample, answered questions and signed papers.
By about 1 to 2pm, I was declared ready to push and my epidural was switched off. I remember feeling strong sensations that aided pushing during Gabe's birth and was looking out for similar signs but found none. The nurses attempted to get me going but I told them that I couldn't feel anything and hence could not push well. I asked for more time for the painkiller to wear off and by about 3pm, called the team in and practise started. I say practise because this is literally a practice indicating another form of the hierarchy in the system.
You see, the nurses would get the woman to push until the baby's head is at a satisfactory position before calling the gynae in for the works. That way, the doctor won't have to sit there and waste heaps of time waiting for the woman to learn how to push (some first time labours can take up to 2-3 hours of pushing). I was told I'm a good pusher and for both births, once I've reached "satisfactory" status, they had to page Prof more than once to get him to come down as soon as possible.
So here I was, sitting up in preparation for pushing and the familiar urge to throw up returned yet again. If you have not noticed a pattern, me and pregnancies and throwing up go a long way together. So since I've not had a bite since dinner on 27 Feb (it's now 2pm on 28 Feb), and was awake for almost all of that time, all that came up was water and bile. Now even this has a positive side to it -- the nurses applauded the act, saying that it'll help the baby to come down even lower. Fyi, if there's one thing that everyone who examined me can agree on, it's that baby's head is very low and pushing her out should be really easy.
The rah-rah team was quite large, double that of Gabe's: derod, Prof, main nurse, two interns, matron supervising the two interns, and the random nurses who came in to assist with equipment and rou after she was born.
While I was going strong, Prof arrived and got into his gear. He wasn't quietly dressing, mind you. He was observing the situation and calling out "good! good! you're doing very well!" while sitting there and putting on his size 11 PCK boots.
It was hard work, as was the first time. The adrenaline was with the rah-rah team cheering me on. They kept telling me not to waste the effort of the pushes and to push harder. I only understood the meaning of this instruction/ encouragement later when derod gave a more detailed description of the actual on-goings. But between the contractions, when there wasn't any pain, everyone went into break-mode immediately -- the team was standing around chatting and derod and I went back to watching HBO and we'll all just laugh and joke about things here and there. A few seconds later when the contractions struck again (I felt the sensations, the team looked at the monitors), we'll be back in action again.
This went on for a few cycles - push like mad, HBO, push like mad, HBO - and then everyone was suddenly quite relaxed. I was a little puzzled and, still panting from the effort, asked around, "what happened? Is the baby's head out? Is it out?" They seemed to take their time in answering me. I figured that it's because they now have real work to do i.e. handle the baby. So yes, derod, and later Prof, confirmed. They sucked the fluids out of her nose and she took her first breath of life. Another small push and a shoulder is out. Yet another and the other shoulder came out too. A final push and I felt rou slip out.
Prof placed her on my chest and severed her connection with me by cutting the umbilical cord. Rou was taken to be cleaned, weighed, measured and bathed. I was stitched and cleaned up and was able to sit up not too long after. I was still throwing up and was given an anti-vomitting jab, which ended up with very bad repercussions.
Little girl resting happily on the warmer, alert to the surroundings and thrusting her tongue all this while.
All done! Stayed in the delivery suite for mandatory observation after labour.Note the puke-pan still next to me.
They transferred me to my room a little later and I pretty much rested till the next day. With the exception of feeding rou, I didn't do much, not even send out the news of the delivery. I took my first walk (to the loo) that night and by the next day, was quite my usual self again.
The experiences of giving birth to my two children were dramatic and different and their memories will stay with me for the rest of my life. And I can finally understand what John 16:21 meant when it said "A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her hour is come: but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world."
My first proper picture with my daughter.Rou's Very Own Blog
Rourou was born on 28 January 2009 at 3.41pm. She weighed 2.96kg and was 48cm in length at birth.
After agonizing over her name, we've finally settled down to 陈智柔 Gayle. Gayle means "joy of the father", which we take to mean the heavenly Father. Her Chinese name is taken from James 3: 17, " 惟 独 从 上 头 来 的 智 慧 ， 先 是 清 洁 ， 后 是 和 平 ， 温 良 柔 顺 ， 满 有 怜 悯 ， 多 结 善 果 ， 没 有 偏 见 ， 没 有 假 冒 。" And if you would like, a secondary verse from the same chapter and verse 13, "你 们 中 间 谁 是 有 智 慧 有 见 识 的 呢 ？ 他 就 当 在 智 慧 的 温 柔 上 ， 显 出 他 的 善 行 来 。"
The other reason for using the word 柔 is due to the gut feel of the mother. Literally. Hahaha! What a reason. Well, while rou was inside my tummy, her movements were aplenty, but always executed gently, so much so that you could feel loads of rumbling but can hardly catch a visual of it, even in the late part of the pregnancy. Livingjoyfully can attest to this.
Some photos of her first few weeks at home and if you would like to see how she looks like in the first few days of life, check them out at her introduction on Gabe's blog. Oh, you'll notice her cheeks get chubbier as the weeks go by.
After agonizing over her name, we've finally settled down to 陈智柔 Gayle. Gayle means "joy of the father", which we take to mean the heavenly Father. Her Chinese name is taken from James 3: 17, " 惟 独 从 上 头 来 的 智 慧 ， 先 是 清 洁 ， 后 是 和 平 ， 温 良 柔 顺 ， 满 有 怜 悯 ， 多 结 善 果 ， 没 有 偏 见 ， 没 有 假 冒 。" And if you would like, a secondary verse from the same chapter and verse 13, "你 们 中 间 谁 是 有 智 慧 有 见 识 的 呢 ？ 他 就 当 在 智 慧 的 温 柔 上 ， 显 出 他 的 善 行 来 。"
The other reason for using the word 柔 is due to the gut feel of the mother. Literally. Hahaha! What a reason. Well, while rou was inside my tummy, her movements were aplenty, but always executed gently, so much so that you could feel loads of rumbling but can hardly catch a visual of it, even in the late part of the pregnancy. Livingjoyfully can attest to this.
Some photos of her first few weeks at home and if you would like to see how she looks like in the first few days of life, check them out at her introduction on Gabe's blog. Oh, you'll notice her cheeks get chubbier as the weeks go by.
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