Two Years

It’s been slightly over two years since the operation and a long rollercoaster ride. I would say that we’re currently on a smooth track. She’s turned three and doctor visits are now once every six months, a huge difference from once every six-weeks.

We’ve swopped out her conformer for her prosthetic eye again for a more natural look but she seems to have outgrown it and the alignment is not quite there… we may have to create a new one. There’s that implant operation that failed twice, yet doesn’t have to be done right now.

Being mean to Matty since 2015. In his house. With his book. While he stares on. 

She doesn’t let it get in her way. Despite only having one eye, she walks and runs like any other kid her age. She can kick balls (and the butts of bullies in future) with good aim, having constant practice along the long corridor outside our house. If it doesn’t bother her, it shouldn’t bother us.

We have to keep her eye properly moisturised as the prosthetic eye is unable to produce moisture. Somehow, it’s a struggle at home, but she lets her teachers at childcare do it for her. Childcare transforms children, I tell you. It’s been less than a month in school and she has been having regular afternoon naps, eats her vegetables (!!!) and even lets the teachers tie her hair in fancy styles *brain explodes. This was never possible. The closest I got to tying her hair was when she was influenced by the witch in Room on the Broom. Even then, she only let me braid her hair when she was role-playing the witch. I should have sent her in earlier.

Look at this girly girl with her IKEA cat that never leaves her side.

Pro-tip: Use an easily available toy as your child’s comfort item. Good luck if your child’s chou-chou is passed down from 30 years ago or discontinued. It’s going to be many sleepless nights for both of you.

This IKEA cat is a reincarnation of Cat Version 1 which was unfortunately and unintentionally left behind on a flight to Korea. I emailed the airline, but didn’t get a favourable reply. Poor cat. I bought another one off the shelves for her. It’s only $9.90.



Emmett’s Birth Story

This post is so last year. It was in my drafts, unfinished until now.

Having heard about how second babies arrive earlier than their older siblings, I had my hospital bag packed and ready to go when I hit 36 weeks. On a Sunday at 39 weeks, I was out for breakfast when I was hit by crippling contractions, so bad it hurt to walk. I staggered home and took a shower, thinking that THIS WAS IT. Turns out it was a false alarm and I spent the entire day on standby. 

At the next checkup, the doctor said that the baby’s head was already engaged and the contractions helped the baby move down further but I had no signs of labour. I was a green-eyed monster, commanding the baby to come out whilst being taunted by birth notifications, one by one, in the WhatsApp group chats. WHY WASN’T THIS BABY COMING OUT?! BEING SO PREGNANT IS NOT FUN!

Two days before the baby came out, my mucus plug did. It was a lot of transparent discharge. 

D-Day

40 weeks, 1 day. I was out to get lunch when I felt my insides cramp up. My tolerance for pain is moderately high, so I waited for it to subside before going home for a shower and making sure everything I needed was in my hospital bag. After that, I latched Elise to sleep. Before leaving, I kissed her cheek and felt a huge pang of sadness because I knew that the next time I saw her, she would no longer be my only baby. I called my husband who was at work to meet me at the hospital. 

I took a cab down to the hospital and realised that my husband was NOWHERE to be seen. Strange, considering his workplace was nearer to the hospital than our house. I decided on a regular Ultimate from Coffee Bean as The Last Drink to sip on while waiting for him. On hindsight, the caffeine helped in ramping up my energy to push. The contractions were about 15 minutes apart. He arrived at the hospital 30 minutes later and made me help him with a phone call for work.  -_- 

At 4:30pm, we went up to the delivery suite where we met the most obtuse patient service associate ever. 

PSA: When is your EDD?
Me: My EDD was yesterday.
PSA: So what’re you here for today?
Me: (I have) Contractions? 

Duh, what else would a pregnant woman go to the Delivery Suite for?!

I got ushered into the delivery suite (by the way, private and subsidised patients at NUH use the same delivery suite) and the midwives hooked me up to the CTG, inserted the IV line and checked for dilation. I was already 5 to 6cm dilated. HA! Take that, Miss “What’re you here for?”! I opted for laughing gas like before and whenever the contractions came, I grabbed the mask and breathed in the gas like a druggie. The short lived effect even with constant inhalation means that the pain is felt. Perhaps I didn’t do it right. 

6pm
“This baby is going to be out by 7pm”. I predict.
The pain starts to get unbearable. I tell the nurse to stop putting her fingers in to check for dilation and she tells me that it’s not her fingers stretching my cervix but the baby’s head.

640pm (!? Can’t remember the exact timing, but it was indeed before 7pm)

Pop. The baby is eerily silent in contrast to Elise who came out wailing her lungs out.   

It wasn’t until I heard the baby give a soft cry that my husband told me that Emmett was born with nuchal cord x2. This means that the umbilical cord was looped around his neck not once, but twice. My husband was shell shocked, but the midwives told him that it’s a common occurrence.

The gynae on duty stitched me up. It was a minor first degree tear and I could walk the moment I reached the ward. I rejected Panadol because the pain was non-existent. It did hurt when he latched and the lochia gushed out.

That’s the story of how Emmett came out. Natural without epidural. 

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Hiiiiiiiiiii everyone!

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My First baby is Three

My baby turned three. She was once a three week old embryo, then a three month old foetus, a three week old newborn and three month old infant. She is now a three year old preschooler. There’s no stopping time, huh. We first knew of her existence through a blood test which caught my pregnancy at 4 weeks, the earliest that a pregnancy can be detected. Elise is quite a strong little girl. At nine weeks pregnant, I suffered from food poisoning which could potentially cause a miscarriage. During my delivery when my water bag was punctured by the gynaecologist, green fluid flowed out, a sign that she had pooped in the womb. When foetuses pass out meconium, it is a sign of foetal distress and can lead to respiratory issues if aspirated. Her heartbeat remained stable and I managed to push her out in time. My first comment upon seeing her was, “Wow, she has a dimple!” 

As my firstborn, she had the misfortune of being my guinea pig for everything. When she was four days old, I wore her out in a ring sling, swaddled. It wasn’t until I posted in a babywearing group that I became aware that babies in ring slings were not supposed to be swaddled. I was a post-natal, sleep deprived first time mom, but we made it through. I powered her fully on breast milk, pumping when I was away at work and latching when back home.

In her first year, she was a chubby and bubbly baby learning how to flip, sit, crawl and stand. Towards the end of her first year, we discovered a tumour in her right eye and it was a huge blow to us as the only way to save her life was to remove her eye. You can read more about this here if you haven’t already and are curious. I got pregnant with Didi after her prosthetic eye was fitted. Year Two involved her starting playgroup, going on play dates, playing soccer barefooted along the corridor and becoming a big sister without a choice.

In Year Three, her vocabulary exploded and she… sort of behaves like a mini-adult who voices out her preferences, likes and dislikes, requires alone time, tells her mama to “엄마, please go away”. She is All About Dinosaurs and loves making up her own stories to illustrations in books she has yet to read. She is generally polite and readily says “Thank you”, “Excuse me” and “Sorry” when the situation calls for it, yet resorts to hitting and biting as a sign of expressing her frustration.

No amount of coaxing, coercion or rewards can make her let us tie up her hair. Her favourite person in the world is her grandfather and she prefers to stay home (don’t we all?).

Her first and second birthdays were celebrated with friends and family. This year, she decided she would have none of it.

“Elise, do you want us to sing Happy Birthday? How about a cake where you can blow out the candles?”

“NOOOO OOOOO OOOOO!”

She is so over the fanciness and fuss of parties and celebrations. At three years old. What have I bred? Does she have a soul of a granny?! Her most commonly uttered phrase when Didi cries is, “Don’t cry Didi, Elise is here”.

We brought her out to Northpoint City, where we frequently go to stock up groceries at the Korean mart (super duper friendly until cannot Korean store manager).

At Kiddy Palace, we tried enticing her with COOL EXPENSIVE MADE IN CHINA TOYS like Super Wings, Tayo and Fireman Sam, to which she replied “No, not now. Next time.”

She had been pestering us for Lion King, which we were clueless as to what it meant. Eventually, she picked out a set of plastic safari animal figurines with rocks, fences and shrubs. Total price? S$9.90. 👍

We already have a set of plastic animal figurines. And Dino figurines. 🙄 What am I complaining about. Rather S$9.90 than S$109.90 right?

Let’s see what the future has.