Mr Friendly Award

I was surprised to see a laminated piece of paper in Cavan's schoolbag. He was awarded Mr Friendly in school.

Whoa! Nowadays, they even give out awards in playgroup, I exclaimed to Clem. Nevertheless, we were so proud of him. In the report, it stated that Cavan was awarded for "showing kindness and love towards friends".

We know that Cavan is a good-natured boy. There were times he came back and 'complained' that his friend, Nathaniel hit him and snatched his toy. (Clem also witnessed a few incidents.) But Cavan seldom retaliated. In fact, he regards Nathaniel as his friend. Whenever Cavan reaches playgroup, he never also fails to say hi to his friends and the teachers.

My little Mr Friendly! : )

Counting the kilos

I was determined not to make the mistake of putting on too much weight, as I did with Cavan (whooping 18 kg in all).

The determination was there but the flesh was weak. I was hungry all the time. And I fell prey to enticing cakes, pastries, chocolates and ice cream. Usually, I'm a strict non-coconut milk consumer. This pregnancy, I loved my chendols, bubur char chars, laksas and red rubies.

I blamed it all on my little gal.

And blessed enough, I put on 10-11 kg for the whole of my pregnancy. Well, for the 1st trimester, I lost a bit of weight. Towards the end, my weight gain was negligible, not even enough to cover the baby's gain.

What was the magic? Less weight gain despite eating more "sinful" food? I did control my carbs intake during dinner, eating mainly the dishes and soup. But after that, I could polish off 1kg's worth of rambutan/ longan and had ice cream for supper.

Maybe it was due to my activeness. I was still conducting full-day workshops, running full day events, running about to prepare materials etc. Back home, I was still running around with Cavan, carrying him and busied myself. Maybe these helped to burn off calories.

Whatever the magic was, I'm not complaining. Just too glad the weight gain wasn't too substantial. Now, post delivery, just to burn the rest off...

What a burden.

Guess who is who?

Somehow, every newborn looks like his or her older sibling. (Not me though. My father said my brother and I looked poles apart as newborns.)

Which is Cavan and which is Verity?

Yes, the ones on the left with spiky hair is Cavan! No prizes for getting all answers right. The dates are stamped, what.

Many friends commented that Verity is a carbon copy of Cavan.

That left me wondering... does that mean Verity would look like this when she turns 8mos?

Attempting to "girlify" Cavan (8 mos) with a hairclip, much to his father's chagrin

Birthing empowered

I had the birth we were praying for. Natural, fast, no intervention. We even had a REFUND from the hospital! Clem's jaw dropped and eyes popped out of his sockets when he heard that.

For Cavan's birth, though I didn't have any epidural, I was induced as he was 2 days late. I had pessaries inserted, waterbag broken, penthidine jab, episiotomy, vacuum suction.

For Verity, I had none of the above. Just gas. That's why so cheap lah, I told Clem and had to push his jaw back.

Here goes the story on 29 Aug 2007...

11.35am - Gynae Appt

Checked that I was already 3cm dilated but babe's still facing up. Dr said I was likely to go into labour that night, if not the next morning. In any case, he asked us to check into the hosp the next morning if nothing happened at night and he would break my water bag. There's still time for one more movie, Dr exclaimed. Go, watch a show.

Frankly speaking, after hearing about the impending labour, I was not in the mood for ANYTHING. I didn't even feel like having lunch.

On the way back, I prayed and claimed the labour to happen naturally. Divine intervention, not human intervention, Lord!

That day was the day for deliveries. We had our stove delivered, Cavan's bed delivered and soon Verity to be delivered.

2pm - Cramps

When the guys were installing the bed, I decided to nap. However, I began to feel cramps and tried to sleep them away. I have a rather high threshold for pain. Well, for the clueless, this does not mean I DON'T feel pain, as many tend to misunderstand. It just means that I can manage pain.

Clem told me in my semi-sleep state that he was going back to the office for a while. Ok, go.

3pm

The contractions were getting too intense so I got up. Hmm, maybe I can distract myself by cleaning Cavan's new bed. At the same time, I can time my contractions. No time wasted.

Hmm... 35-38 sec per contractions at 3.10 min interval.

Cavan's new bed cleaned during contractions

After I finished cleaning, I decided to sms Clem to see what time he was returning and told him I was having bad cramps. Meanwhile, I went to take a shower and Clem was back. The cramps were getting worse and I had to bend over while showering and continue when they ended.

By this time, the duration of contractions was 45 sec.

Clem called the Dr and reported the stats. We were summoned to his clinic so we quickly packed our bags and were ready to go. Oh, wait, I paused. I haven't taken a bikini pic! (I took one on 38th wk while having Cavan.) It sounded like a ridiculous request at this point but we took anyway.

No stretchmarks again!

6pm - Back to Gynae

Duration of contractions: 60 sec.
I was the next to see Dr the moment I reached his clinic. "Hi Soann, you look very comfortable for a person who is having contractions!" He performed a check and remarked that most women would be screaming at this point. Maybe you're screaming inside, he joked. Yep, he was right.

Ok, I'll see you at the hosp at 8. The baby should come out by midnight. Go and have a nice dinner.

As we were about to leave, suddenly Dr asked the assistant to put me on CTG just to be safe. So I was strapped with the transducer. I asked if I could be strapped standing up. Really felt terrible to lie down. Of course the answer was no. But I could lie on my side.

Tracking the fetal heartbeat

After 10 min, another assistant came to check on the chart and exclaimed that due to my position, the machine couldn't read properly so we had to redo. Argghhh... do I have to stay here longer, I screamed silently. Ok, I said calmly and noting my discomfort, I was given a cushion to prop me up.

Finally we could go. In the car, we were discussing where to go for dinner. How about the famous chicken rice shop? Oh, or the Hong Kong cafe? I was squirming in my seat and began to take long deep breaths to cope with the contractions when suddenly Clem said he wanted to pump petrol and swerved into a petrol station. My dear hub was unaware of the predicament I was in. I think I looked too cool. He returned with a bag of snacks: potato chips, chicken in a biscuit, chocolates. I thought, huh, you think you're going to watch a movie?

I didn't think we could go for dinner anymore as I was getting increasingly uncomfortable. I was afraid I would become uncontrolled. At most, pack. At the rate I was going, I'd frighten the diners. Let's just check into the hosp.

I had to wait for one contraction to end before making my way from carpark to lobby. But as soon as I got out of the car came another. I had to lean and press my palms on the car, like a thief who was caught. Must be quite a sight for the passing vehicles on the main road. But who cares? The contraction was consuming my mind totally.

After it ended, we walked as quickly as we could. Then came another wave but I gritted my teeth and walked up the stairs. After admission, the kind hearted nurse wanted to put me on the wheelchair but I felt better walking so I walked my way to the labour ward.

7.40pm - Labour Ward

Got dressed in the labour ward while Clem did some registration and nurses called Dr for update. The nurse wanted me to lie down so I could be strapped with tranducers (again!) to track fetal heartbeat. I refused to lie down and leaned on the counter for support. I asked not to be strapped but they had to report to Dr on the reading. I think it took me quite some time before I walked to my bed and just stood there, still refusing to lie down. The patient nurse waited and later asked me if I wanted gas. At that point, yes, anything that helped. So I sucked in the gas greedily and hey presto! Suddenly I was transported to lala-land. My head felt woozy and I had to lie down as I was losing my balance. Clever nurse.

Perhaps my labour was progressing too quickly. I didn't get the routine enema nor the shave. (Shucks. And I was looking forward to a free, painless Brazillian.) A short while later, I heard Clem's voice and I felt relieved that support had come. Then the nurse told him he could wait at the family lounge! Wait! Did anyone ask me for permission? I called out to Clem but my voice was too feeble... I felt my helpline fading...

The intervals were getting shorter and the nurses wanted to transfer me to the wheelchair and wheel me to the delivery ward. But I was not in the state to move. I was so crippled by the contractions. So the nurses waited patiently and I stubbornly refused to budge. Then I asked feebly, "Can I bring along the gas mask?" "Yes, we've prepared the gas for you in the delivery room." "No, I want to bring this along with me!!" I cried desperately. "You can't! The mask is fixed to the wall!!"

Argghhh!

The nurses discussed among themselves privately and decided to push my whole bed to the delivery room. They told me that they were going to take away the mask and the delivery room was just next door. Noooo...!

The scene next was a drama. My "clutch" was removed from me and the nurses heaved and pushed the bed as fast as they could, knocking into every possible obstacle in the way. I was sitting up, refusing to lie down, trying to grab the nurse, pounding on the bed, wailing "Gas! Now!" as they pushed me across the corridor. Anyone who saw me then might never want to have kids.

8.20- In the Delivery Room

The nurse said that I was already 8cm dilated (10cm means baby can pop out). I asked how do you know. You didn't even check! The nurse replied, I don't know. That's what Dr said.

I got into the flow of the rhythm, getting as much gas as I could when I felt the wave of the contraction building up and removed the mask when it went down. For my first birth, I relied on the monitor. Once I heard the "galloping" sound (which means contractions building up), I would quickly grab my gas mask. Even when it went down, I still refused to let go. That left my head spinning. This time round, more seasoned. Even though I struggled with the pain, I listened to my body and was able to control my intake of gas.

Finally, Clem came and it was at the right time. By then, I was struggling so much the nurses were shouting, "Mommy, don't jump off the bed!" and they were so afraid I would fall off. Dunno why but I felt better lying as close to the edge of the bed as possible and grabbing the bed bar as far back as possible. Clem poured baby oil and massaged my lower back and hips furiously to ease the pain while commanding the whole parade, "In and blow! In and blow!" with the nurses as the chorus. Everytime a contraction ended, the nurse would encourage, "Going down. Veeeery good. Keep going." I realised that rhythm was very important during labour. Just kept you in the routine and going.

I kept my eyes closed throughout. I found that once I opened my eyes, the sense of reality would hit in my awake-ness and somehow I found it hard to manage. With my eyes closed, I was still in my lala-land and it felt better in a semi-awake state.

A deceitfully peaceful look between contractions

The contractions got stronger and more intense and I had the urge to push. The nurses yelled, "Don't push yet! Dr's not here yet! You'll tear yourself!" I didn't care, it felt better pushing than resisting the urge. It was cathartic to follow what was natural to your body's instinct. Think I was getting rather violent due to the strong contractions. They had to pin my legs down and later Clem told me that I actually kicked one of the nurses.

Suddenly, I heard a pop and a slight splashing sound. Sounded like a water bomb hitting the ground. Everyone exclaimed, "Oh!" I burst my own water bag while pushing.

Next, I was asked to lie on my back. I refused. After more coaxing, I relented. I vaguely heard the nurse told Clem, "Dr said don't check (the dilation). But do you want to check. If you give permission. I'll do it." Clem permitted and the nurse reported that I was 9cm.

After another contraction and push, I felt the nurse meddling with my intimates and at the next contraction and push, I felt a warm sensation below and Clem exclaimed, "I can see the baby's head... The baby's out!"

I thought he was kidding. Or trying to make me feel better. Then I heard baby cries. Where did it come from... it's MY baby!

I couldn't believe it! It was faster than I had expected. I didn't have to push as hard as I did with Cavan. On hindsight, perhaps because I didn't have to put my legs on the pedestal cos it somehow impeded the ability to push. If Dr were around, he would have insisted cos he would have done an episiotomy. This time without an episiotomy, I tore on my scar on my 1st birth. However, it did not hurt as much. Then Dr arrived and expressed his disappointment in missing the birth.

Cradling my little girl

I was pretty pleased with the whole event. I thought it would take longer since Dr said baby should be out by midnight. No no no, she came out in less than 2 hours after I checked in. I guess my cool demeanour deceived Dr into thinking he still had time hence he missed the birth. Ha!

A New Addition to the Yee Family... Verity Yee

Verity decided to come on the dot and arrived on 29 August 2007. She was in such a hurry to come out that she popped out before my gynae came, less than 2 hours after I was admitted to the hospital. More stories on the birth later.


In the meantime... a picture with Daddy & Mummy.

Verity Yee, born 29/8/07, 2121 hrs
2.7 kg, 47 cm