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pregnancy

7 weeks: Misery

Being pregnant is hard and this pregnancy is turning out to be the hardest of them all.

baby blob

Everyone, meet baby blob, whose cuteness makes up for the misery. No, not really.

Question: WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO SMELL SO FOUL?? I’ve dealt with morning sickness in every pregnancy but this one is on another level altogether. This is like the boss level of morning sickness. Chicken soup makes me want to vomit, bacon??!!! makes me want to vomit, fried chicken and bak chor mee and barbequed stingray all make me want to vomit.

I spend most of my day not eating until I get ravenously hungry, at which point, I start surfing food blogs to find food that possibly maybe won’t make me feel pukey. One time, I made the husband drive me out for a bowl of curry laksa and immediately after, I hated it. And I’m not a laksa hater. Laksa used to make me happy but now the thought of laksa makes me ill. WHYYY??? The same thing happened with nasi lemak. All my favourite food are getting struck off the list one by one.

I’m down to green apples and raw vegetables (horse alert!) and even then, I’m averaging one throw up session per meal.

I mean, weird pregnancy cravings are practically a by product of being pregnant but I don’t even have any to fall back on. I can’t send the husband out of food expeditions to Boon Lay claiming that “baby needs Power Nasi Lemak” because baby doesn’t seem to want any sort of food. Baby is trying to turn me into a horse. Just gimme some dry wheatgrass and be done with it.

Food makes me miserable. No food makes me miserable. I’m in abject misery.

MIS-ER-Y.

And the worst part? Baby Finn uses a moisturiser from mustela, which used to be my favourite baby moisturiser fragrance of all time. I say used to because the other day, he snuggled in my arms after a shower and I took a whiff of his fresh baby scent and immediately threw up inside my mouth. I was completely mortified. That’s got to be rock bottom right there. Nothing can possibly be worse than the fact that the smell of my baby made me vomit.

Week 7: I’m hungry and miserable and mopey.

pregnancy

Ready for the push

I’ve been doing a lot of nesting lately, so much so that I feel like a bird. Which is saying a lot because you all know how much I hate birds. They’re pesky and squawky and poop everywhere but one thing’s for certain – our feathered friends sure know how to prepare for their babies.

Like baskets. I mean, what’s up with the urge to put pretty baby things into little baskets? These birds make it look so cosy and baby-friendly.

For us humans, that’s what drawers and cupboards are supposed to be for but then it just doesn’t have the same appeal as baskets. I put all these tiny onesies and swaddles in drawers where they can’t be seen and it’s like “meh”, so I arrange them in baskets and every time I walk past, I can run my fingers across and go “awww wook at all the teeny tiny wompers

Having a newborn does terrible things to your brain, ok?

There’s also a practical side to it – easy access. Infants vomit and poop and spit up so many times a day that it’s ridiculous to have to open the drawer, close the drawer, open the drawer and close the drawer again every time they need a change. The smarter thing to do is have them all laid out within easy reach. So…baskets.

While we’re on the topic, it’s very therapeutic to fold and re-fold baby clothes because OMG WHY ARE THEY SO SOFT??

If you look at it rationally, there’s no real need to nest. Having done this twice before, I can state for a fact that babies don’t give two hoots about whether their onesies are folded nicely or not. Maybe it’s psychological. Like when you’re welcoming someone important into your home, you get everything prepped and ready as if to say “hey, you’re special and we can’t wait for you to arrive.”

In any case, we’re ready. Now if only I can find a way to make the baby come out sooner.

getting ready for baby, pregnancy

Waiting

You know what’s worse than having to go through a traumatic experience? Waiting for that traumatic experience to happen.

Knowing that it is going to happen one way or another so you hyperventilate a little and try to brace yourself like “ok, bring it on, I’m ready” thinking that it’s time but then it doesn’t happen. Yet. And you’re like COME ON JUST GET IT OVER WITH ALREADY.

I’ve been having some intermittent contractions the past week and every time I feel my stomach tightening and the waves of pain are twisting my uterus into a ball, I run to the bathroom to wash my hair. Priorities, people! Because if I have to go into labor and roll around making terrible grunting noises, at least I’m doing it with bouncy, silky soft, nice-smelling hair. There’s nothing worse than sounding like a deranged neanderthal while looking like one.

So these contractions, they got really bad on Tuesday evening. Usually my Braxton Hicks have a pain level of like 2-3 but these were at least a 6. Thinking that it was finally time, I washed my hair, packed my baby bag, lay on my side and waited for the contractions to come in harder and faster.

By 1am, they were 13 minutes apart and the husband was all “I think we should go in now, please don’t make me deliver the baby at home with hot water and a bunch of towels.” I don’t know what shows he’s been watching but he obviously forgot about the scissors. It’s always hot water, towels and scissors, amirite?

I was determined to wait till they were 10 minutes apart before checking myself in, but before it got to that point, they just stopped. One minute, I was hissing and grunting in pain, then the next minute, just gone.

Husband: So how, is it time?

Me: Gone. The contractions are gone.

Husband: That’s all? So what do we do now?

Me: I have no idea. I think we can go to bed.

What? You were expecting a dramatic end to this story? So was I. But I’m still around, as pregnant as ever. Still waiting.

picture perfect, pregnancy

Pregnancy in pictures

I’m usually not very comfortable showing off my giant belly, which explains why I didn’t do a photo shoot the last two pregnancies. Also, I figured I’d be pregnant again so there’s always the next time. But I’ve been wanting to get some photos of my belly this time around. You know, just in case I don’t do this pregnancy thing for the fourth time.

So I got the kids to be the props and the husband helped to take the photos.

Tru was all “Why mommy never wear shirt and Truett never wear shirt?” and I didn’t really know what to say except, “Well, it’s um, artistic.”

 

pregnancy

Birth Plans

Lately, all my dreams have been about giving birth.

Just 2 nights ago, I dreamt that I needed to go in for an emergency c-section and the gynae started brandishing a cleaver like Daniel “The Butcher” Day-Lewis in Gangs of New York. I was still calmly asking him if it was necessary to use a knife that big and he was all “we’re out of scalpels but don’t worry, everything is under control” while twirling his moustache. And the most disconcerting thing about the whole dream? I was less concerned about the cleaver and more about the fact that my gynae doesn’t even have a moustache. I just saw him last week and the guy was clean shaven, then a week later, he’s got facial hair long enough to twirl.

Then last night, I dreamt that I was in labor. Like actual screamy, panic-inducing, BABY’S COMING NOW kind of labor. My dreams don’t usually translate into real pain but last night’s dream had my stomach all up in knots. It turned out to be a particularly bad case of middle-of-the-night-diarrhea but the point is that my brain managed to conjure up a whole dream scenario to give some context to the pain.

I’m no expert on interpreting dreams because they usually never mean what I think it means but I see a theme here and I’m going out on a limb to say that I’m about ready to pop.

So I figured I might as well be productive and come up with a proper birth plan. For the previous 2 kids, my entire plan was to arrive at the hospital and start yelling for an epidural. But after some serious consideration, I’m going to attempt a medication-free labor. I have to at least try this once and see how far I can go without having to stick a needle up my spine.

To make the process easier (or at least provide some distraction from the pain), I’ve come up with a list of things I’ll need in the delivery ward.

1. Music – Chariots of Fire by Vangelis (on repeat), followed by Deshi Basara (the epic Bane chant from the Dark Knight Rises) during the pushing phase.

2. Movies/Dramas – Every episode of Game of Thrones from the past 2 seasons. Now’s not the time to be watching namby pamby characters whining about their romantic interests (I’m looking at you, Ted Mosby). It’s time to go for some Ned Stark level of brutal medieval action.

3. Mobility – The good thing about not having epidural is that I won’t have to be confined to the bed. I’m going to try every yoga position possible to see if it helps with the pain management. If I have to squat to deliver the baby, I’m going to do it.

The husband says that this time, he’s going to film the entire birth process and make it into a snazzy video and I made him a promise that if he so much as brings any image capturing device near my birth-giving parts, I will personally get off the delivery table and beat him unconscious with said device.

If you have any birth plan recommendations, do share!

Kidspeak, pregnancy

Fact: Kids make you fat.

For my mid afternoon snack yesterday, I made myself a grilled cheese with tomato sandwich. I usually have several slices of bacon with my grilled cheese in lieu of anything resembling a vegetable, but during my gynae appointment on Monday, I was told that my weight gain is getting “alarmingly rapid”.

After keeping my weight gain to just 8 kg in 32 weeks, I’ve put on another 3 kg in the last month alone, of which only 200 grams belong to the baby.

I guess that counts as alarming.

Also, I hate you, last trimester hormones.

So I was sitting at the kitchen table trying to enjoy my vegetable sandwich and not think about bacon when the kids came sauntering in.

Tru: What are you having, mommy?

Me: A sandwich. Want some?

Both: Me, me, I want!

Kirsten took a bite and immediately started making gagging faces before letting the whole gooey lump fall out of her mouth.

Kirsten: That’s not a sandwich. It’s gross.

Me: What do you mean it’s not a sandwich? It’s a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich. And it’s not gross.

Ok, it was totally gross but if I was going to endure a vegetable sandwich, they were going to suffer together with me.

Kirsten: Sandwich is not s’posed to have tomato…where’s the bacon?

Me: Guys, we’re not going to have bacon for a while because mommy’s on a diet. It’s vegetables for everyone yay!!

Tru: What’s a diet?

Me: A diet is when mommy needs to eat less to lose weight, and I’m not allowed to have bacon.

Tru: Because you’re becoming fat?

Me: Hey, I’m pregnant, there’s a difference. And it’s because of you guys that I’m even in this predicament.

Tru: But Truett and mei mei are not fat what. We can have bacon, you eat the vegetables.

If you must know, they got their bacon sandwich and I might have snuck one or two slices into mine as well.

For the record, if I get really fat, it’s definitely the kids’ fault. All 3 of them.

getting ready for baby, pregnancy

Five More Weeks.

Just like that, I’m at week 35 of this pregnancy. I’ve got 5 weeks to go and I’m not sure if I should be relieved or start throwing my arms in the air and shrieking a little. Maybe a bit of both.

Part of me just wants to give birth like NOW. I’m at the point of the pregnancy where I have difficulty doing simple tasks like taking off my pants or trimming my toenails. Just the other day, I was attempting to walk briskly when the husband leaned in real close and whispered “I need to tell you something, babe…you’re starting to waddle.” And then I punched him in the stomach. Ok, not really. It was more of a friendly jab to the abdominal region.

But with the reality of the impending birth setting in, I’m starting to remember the TRAUMA that is childbirth. Oh, you know, the whole having to push a human out of my vagina thing.

Apparently, mothers have this ability to block out the trauma after giving birth, which is why they can have another kid 6 months after a major screamfest in the hospital. What they don’t tell you is that while you’re able to block out the trauma when you’re having fun making the baby, it all comes flooding back when you’re about to deliver the baby.

Which is um, right about now.

And that brings me to my list of 3 most terrifying things about childbirth. If you’re planning to make a baby anytime soon, I’d recommend that you go see some pictures of cute babies first and come back a few months later when it’s too late and there’s no escaping the process.

1. Cervix check

To fully understand why this is such a nightmare, you have to know where the cervix is. I’d show you pictures but this is a wholesome family blog so you’ll just have to trust me when I say that it’s located in a place that shouldn’t be checked with bare hands. In order to reach the cervix to check it, the nurse has to put her hand and jab around somewhere you really don’t want her to. And yes, it’s every bit as painful as it sounds.

2. Episiotomy

This process involves a scalpel (or scissors) and your lady bits. Those are 2 objects that shouldn’t be near each other but this is the kind of thing that happens in the wonderful world of childbirth. Especially for VBAC cases, the doctor has to make an incision so the baby’s head doesn’t get stuck and cause a wound rupture. How very fun and exciting.

3. Labor Pain

For better or worse, the pain of labor trumps any other sort of pain you feel at childbirth. The husband was standing by witnessing the episiotomy in horror but I had no idea that it was happening because the pain of labor was all I could think of. It’s like when you get shot in the leg, it really doesn’t matter that you also just stubbed your toe, which I guess is a good thing in a bizarre sort of way.