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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When Extended Breastfeeding Hurts

Notice the bruise on her left cheek? There is a story behind it.

I’d brazenly packed only summer clothing without any long pants and just one cardigan into our luggage after checking Accuweather and assuming the weather would be as warm as Singapore’s. It wasn’t (actual summer with Singapore type weather is in July and August). Elise ended up developing a high fever and blocked nose towards the end of our trip – we were sleeping one night and I touched her to realise she was burning. Since it was late at night, I nudged her and latched her so she could take in more fluids. The next day, my brother-in-law bought baby paracetamol from the pharmacy. We didn’t bring her to the PD because she was still active and not lethargic, although she had a decreased appetite.

The upside to this was that she mastered the technique of picking her nose due to all the mucus. Once, she even handed over her dried snot to her father like it was a prize. I continued latching her because it gave her comfort and apparently, there’s still some milk in there. The nights were hard to bear as both of us had interrupted sleep; her from her blocked nose and me from attending to her. She also vomited her formula milk and spat out medicine.

Back to the bruise. We were in a fully loaded flight back to Singapore from Seoul via Taipei. Even in the cold airplane up in the air, her entire body was hot to the touch. She was grouchy, exhausted and wanted to latch, so she started fussing. In a confined space such as an aircraft where ALL EYES will be on you when your kid cries for a longer time than what is socially acceptable i.e. 3 minutes max, you do whatever you have to to get her to quieten down. So, I unbuttoned one button of my dress and latched her in my seat. It is possible to be sufficiently covered whilst getting the job done. Why not in the aircraft toilet for privacy? Because if you don’t eat your delicious aircraft bento in the toilet whilst enjoying the smell and airborne poop particles, Elise shouldn’t have to drink in a toilet either.

Anyway.

Being cranky, sick and uncomfortable, she absolutely refused to stop latching. Occasionally, when she dozed off, I pried a finger in between her teeth in an attempt to unlatch her, which resulted in a full-blown cry, forcing me to start all over again. Cry, latch, doze off, (attempt to) unlatch, repeat. Learning quick, she realised that if she used her teeth to clamp shut on my nipple, she could defend the boob. Pregnancy boobs are more sensitive than normal. How does it feel? Clip one of these onto your nipple. That’s how it feels. I tolerated it for many times, but there was just ONE moment where she intentionally bit down hard onto it, so I pinched her cheek. HARD. She awoke in pain. I had hurt my sick daughter. -_-

She recovered the day after we returned to Singapore without seeing a doctor.

Now that she is 19 months old, I’m starting to hear uninvited opinions about weaning. One of the remarks came from my mother-in-law. She was on the phone with my husband before we went to Korea and it was audible enough for me to hear. “It doesn’t even have nutrients anymore. It’s useless. I don’t care if she hears. It’s the truth.” My husband replied that I was sensitive regarding this issue and told her to stop. That night, I searched for articles in Korean which supported breastfeeding until 2 years old and beyond and sent it to the family chat group. After reading the articles, my husband agreed that it does help with her immunity. My in-laws also stopped commenting about weaning after seeing how she was soothed easily. On our last night in Korea, she signaled to latch and I latched her in the restaurant while we feasted on crabs. After Elise unlatched, she immediately went over to her grandparents and kissed them. -_____-

Korea is a relatively child and breastfeeding-friendly country. Last year, I latched her on demand practically everywhere – in the KTX, buses, eateries, even in the sauna. Nobody said anything nasty, because I was decently covered. Because breastfeeding is nothing to be ashamed of. Because mature adults understand. I believe that one day, she will tell me that she’s a big girl and “big girls don’t need to drink from boobies anymore”. Support from family is the most important factor in successful breastfeeding.

There were two incidents where I was criticised for breastfeeding Elise, both by other women and in Singapore. The first time was in a nursing room with no curtain, so I latched Elise in front of them. The two women in the room made comments in another language, spattered with English words like “must be from China”, “disgusting”, “cannot cover”. The room was locked. We were all women. It’s sad to see how some women put down other women for feeding their child with mom’s milk. I have two friends who are still latching their kids of similar age to Elise. Like me, they are pro-extended breastfeeding and still nurse their little ones to sleep even though they’ve heard nasty remarks from co-workers and strangers. Weaning should be determined by either the mother or child, no-one else. Not family members, not in-laws and much less work superiors and strangers.

EXTENDED BREASTFEEDING

Q: Do you even have milk left?!
A: Supply decreases during pregnancy and milk changes into colostrum which some toddlers either dislike, like or are neutral with. I asked Elise if there was still milk and she nodded, so… I guess there’s something left inside? I’m quite sure it’s mostly for comfort. I also feed her formula milk once a night for satiety but she still nurses to sleep after milk.

C: It’s so disgusting to see a big kid dangling off your boob. They’re old enough to wean when they have teeth.
R: Here are the benefits of extended breastfeeding, which include healthy emotional development in addition to building their immune systems. You know what’s disgusting? Humans drinking cow’s milk. It came from the tit of a cow meant to nourish baby calves. I’d rather wean her off cow’s milk. The World Health Organisation recommends exclusive breastfeeding for a minimum of 6 months, continued till a year and stopped whenever the children want it. Most children wean themselves off between 2 to 4 years of age.

To tell the truth, I DO find it unnecessary once the child is no longer a toddler. I hope Elise will quit boobin’ way before she turns 5. The good news is, kids will self-wean between the ages of 2 and 4. It will be a bittersweet day for sure.

Q: Why do you continue latching even when it hurts? Can’t she be soothed in other ways? Are you breastfeeding for attention?
A: No amount of attention can be worth a clamp on the nipples with baby teeth. The reason is simply because for my child, there is nothing more soothing than a boob, especially when she is ill and has no appetite. Well, even grown men can’t resist breasts! Except that grown men sucking on boobs = sexual. Babies latching = natural and NOT sexual.

Q: Not all women breastfeed. Are you insinuating they are less of a mother than you are?
A: 
Breastfeeding is but one component of motherhood. Boobing alone doesn’t make you a great mother like how feeding formula doesn’t make you a bad mother. -_____-

Baby Gender Stress

I’m at week 24, more than halfway through Peanut’s baking process. We found out Peanut’s gender during the week 22 scan 2 weeks ago.

My MIL told us that she dreamt of an olive fruit the night before we announced the pregnancy – it was supposed to symbolise a boy.
The aunties in the neighbourhood were insistent it was a boy, reasoning that it was because “Elise looks like a boy, so the next sibling would definitely be a boy”, “The point on the back of her head where her hair starts is right in the centre. I bet you’re having a boy!”
My husband was also definite that it would be a boy. When I was pregnant with Elise, he kept saying, “it’ll be great if it was a daughter that looked like you” and it turned out to be a girl.
Even before the week 22 scan, my dad was referring to Peanut as didi to Elise…

I checked the Chinese conception charts and tried the ring test. Couldn’t understand either one.

The stress was real. It’s proven by science that men determine the gender of the baby, but somehow because the woman is the one carrying the baby for 9 months, in some societies, they get blamed for “not being able to produce a boy/girl”. Everybody was so sure that Peanut most definitely possessed a penis. It made me doubt myself because I had no sure sign. The next day, the moment I entered the scan room, I told the sonographer my worries about how everyone insisted it would be a boy and I felt so stressed. After a few swipes, she told me that, yes, Peanut was indeed a boy like everyone predicted.  She even captured a photo which I promptly sent to the in-laws and my husband, who were over the moon.

I’m not sure what to feel, actually. It’d be interesting taking care of another gender. Having a boy and a girl is like striking the gender lottery. Responses after confirming Peanut’s gender include “That’s great, you have a pair”, “Now you can close shop“, “At least this one’s a boy, so you don’t need to try again” like the only acceptable way is to have a boy. It’s ridiculous that outsiders determine the number of kids we should have. -_-  IF Peanut were a girl, I’m very sure they would pat me in a consoling manner and say “Boy or girl, doesn’t matter. What matters is that it’s healthy” or “You can always try again!” like it’s a sin to have two of the same gender.

I asked my husband why he was so fixated on having a boy and he said that he wanted Elise to have a little brother who would protect his sister from bullies, especially since she has a prosthetic eye. WELL… I was already intending to enrol Elise for self defence classes so she can kick butt on her own.

If Peanut was a girl, I would be less inclined to try for a 3rd kid in case I ended up with 3 kids of the same gender. Now, it doesn’t matter which gender #3 (if #3 ever happens) is. My dad has already asked me if we’re going to do ligation/vasectomy. Let’s see. The exhaustion of looking after two young children without a full time helper is the best form of contraception. I can’t imagine how I’m going to bring a newborn and toddler out alone for playdates though! We’ll get there a step at a time.


Elise has been pointing to my belly and kissing the bump whenever I ask her where her didi is. I’m confident she’ll be a doting big sister, as long as it doesn’t involve sharing her food. They can play soccer and run around together. It wasn’t that long ago that Elise was the one doing somersaults from inside. Why do babies grow up so quickly?! Soon they’ll be married! 🙁