C is for Confinement

On this, the last day of my “confinement”, I celebrate how much happier I am this time around, that I had a “modern confinement”. I started walking around my hospital room on the 2nd day after the c-Sec, and took my first meeting 8 days after G. It started off with short meetings, then I started going to check on things at the shop for a few hours. And boom, here I am, a month later: feeling happier and healthier and better than ever before.

In the last month, we’ve done many things!

We bought our first company van:

And bidded successfully for a new office space:

..and started a new contract for services while winding down the old 9 year contract. Such bittersweet but I’m so excited about moving forward too.

I eat well, and normally, mostly clean (but I cheat, I admit)

And a lot of yummy homecooked food, thanks to my inlaws who invested so much time to come over to help with meals.

I had so much support this month! See, my amazing support group:

God is good- he gives us what we can handle. And I am so thankful for supportive family who let me take the lead with my own recovery. That they gave me the freedom to do what I needed (to keep sane), and showered me with love (and fresh good food – from my in laws). 

Grateful for all the slack everyone cut me since I am not at 100%, and feeling so sated with the both bubs sleeping peacefully. 


C is for carry

I love how E is taking well to being a big Sister. Mostly she is protective of G, often adding to the noise when G is crying to loudly Inform us (In case we can’t hear him) that “(her) baby Brother is crying!” 

E is struggling to share her things – toys at the playground, food and sweets that she enjoys, and  her things at home when guests come. While part of me doesn’t advocate her sharing with strangers, cos we adults don’t either (we don’t offer our “toys” to strangers we meet at the bus stop, so how can I expect her to?) but her reluctance to share even with friends is starting to bother me– so we are working on it.

But with G, she seems alright to share, in bite sized chunks. We started with asking her to share her Swaddles. As a background, E loves her Aden + Anais bamboo swaddles. And sleeps with at least two of them. She always has one wherever she goes, kept safely in her bag. We got  G his own set, but sometimes in a pinch, we use E’s — and while she voices her displeasure, she hasn’t quite snatched it back from G. Phew. 

So tonight G was fussing and I thought to try him in the ringsling — who cares that it’s pink? I like pink. — and when E saw it she immediately said “my sling!”  So I asked if i could carry G in it for a bit — and surprisingly she said ok! 

Then at bedtime, she came up to me rather hesitatingly, and asked if I could carry her in the sling. D of course steps in to offer to sling her (but he doesn’t use the ring sling) and she very gingerly explained she wanted to be carried in the pink one and wanted mummy to carry her. I had completely stopped carrying her from my second trimester with G cos we had a bleeding episode. So this request to be carried by me came as a surprise. 

So I did (but was mainly sitting down, after I put her in)– cos G was born via C-sect and I’m still sensitive– and oh what a song it was in my heart. How much I’ve missed carrying this child, almost a little too big for ringslings — but it delighted me to accede her request.


L is for lovers 

The word “lovers” always gave me the heebiejeebies – a salacious, lewd associating with clandestine, immoral entanglements. But as I got older (and maybe more emotionally stable) and as I understood love as it was meant to be (ref: 1 Corinthians 13:4-8), then this word suddenly became such a clear honey- hued safe word. To cherish and to hold— how comforting, this deep seated warmth that spreads from your navel to your ears.
“Lovers” is no longer an image of naked writhing bodies atop shrewn sheets (although, and I cannot lie, This is a wonderful image too – not lascivious, but fulfilling) but of D holding my hand through the c-sect with G, or his Whisper behind my ear when I was straining in labour with E, of Long walks we’ve taken with unknown destinations, or the many hours we have spent staring out at sea. 

Especially these crazy days with E battling her night terrors or vivid dreams, and G waking up every H-O-U-R, we forget we are to be loving each other first, above all else, before all else. It’s easy to be swarmed with love for the children, we forget we have to work at love with our spouse. 

Before we were “Daddy” and “Mummy”, we were “Mister” and “Missus”. Before we were “Mister” and “Misses”, we were “Boyfriend” and “Girlfriend”. Before we were “Boyfriend” and “Girlfriend” we were “friends”. 

In between doctor’s visits (for us, not the kids), we stole time off to go for a nice breakfast: this is as close to our anniversary meal as we got, and I’m glad we went for it, despite the intense morning we both had (waking up at 5!) 

This was way too early for both of us, but we wanted to remember we were more than just “daddy” and “mummy” and that first and foremost we are lovers, and friends.

It was nice to just sit and chat (nothing about toddlers or infants) and remember that. To share a laugh, to talk about our work and our plans, and to tease about my incredibly child-like palate.

B is for blogging

I grew up in an era where we blogged – we went from diaryland to livejournal to blogspot to WordPress. We blogged about our lives, our loves, our work, our heartbreaks, our friendships, our thoughts, our emotions.

I was:

Flowerfall.diaryland.com , faeriedances.diaryland.com , pingspeaks.diaryland.com , brokenpathways.blogspot.com, dancinglights.wordpress.com

Most of them defunct and lost  — and that makes me sad, to lose all those precious memories, those happy pictures taken with our grainy phones. I also remember the good times, that has been intrinsically lost forever. The hours i spent writing (typing), that Fool-happy love, the first dates, the letters we’d write, the gathering of friends, life experiences in that moment

But maybe it’s better this way now that we’re older and grown and our online personalities have becomes so public. Yikes, that horrible breakup(s), that relationship that never was, that fight that cleaved us in two. Maybe I am thankful, that those cringe worthy dramatics have been washed away by as e-platforms become defunct. 

I remember when D and I started dating: he’d drive home at 3 am in the mornings – from Yio Chu Kang to Clementi: and I’d read him excerpts from my old blogs. I think he has singularly heard all the posts from day 1, in those hundreds of night drives back. Even the old posts, even about exes. It was liberating to read them through, to know D wanted to know all of me, past and all. 

But friends, has blogging become passé? 

I haven’t blogged in years (except on travels) but I love using words to capture memories for I am neither photogenic Nor a great photographer. I love sitting quietly and trying to figure out the best, no, most appropropriate, no, most apt, (you get what I mean) word to describe my frame of mind right there and then. Maybe it becomes rambling, but it’s my rambling.

G is for Grateful

Sometimes I look at G and I think about how intricate God’s handiwork is – from the whorls on his head to the curl of his ears, to his little hands and feet – how did he cast the design blueprint, that we are so wonderfully made?

This child, we have asked for: I’ve fretted over, cried over, laughed over, hurt over. Pregnancy wasn’t a walk in the park: bleeding, severe nausea, symphysis pubis dysfunction, right to the excitement of 1 Aug — when we discovered I was 6 cm Dilated at our gynae visit. 

At week 33, we learnt that the cervix had softened and shortened, then, start of week 35 we learnt we were 2 cm Dilated. So it wasn’t a surprise to us to learn there were more developments at our next (few) checks.. and then.. nothing happened. No water bag breaking! I had a few rumbles in my tummy (which I later learnt were contractions) and the mucus plug (which is quite as disgusting as it sounds) fell off rather uneventfully– but no labour onset.

So, 6 cm in, baby G was not engaged – we went for a walk and lunch, hoping to jiggle him in place. Had a fall down some steps and what a scene that was – it’s not funny falling down at 35 weeks pregnant – and I couldn’t walk thereafter. My pelvis (which already was sore), felt completely busted – every small movement hurt and we knew from that point that G would come within the day or two. we made it to week 35 at least! 

So we elected c-sec, but since we ate lunch, we had to wait for 9 pm surgery. our wonderful gynae told us we can still try for natural, but G must engage – her concern was that G’s head (95th percentile) couldn’t fit. At the 8.30 check, he was neither engaged or anywhere close, and i Guess he couldn’t wiggle his head into the correct spot, so we went off to the Theatre and the rest is history. 

Since then, two weeks have passed and G (for all the drama) has since settled into a calm, quiet (mostly), and gentle child. I wonder if this is just a newborn preemie thing, or if things will change over the next few days. 

Grateful, because God was faithful when he promised to take care of me (us) through the curve balls life throws. Grateful, because D has been nothing but patient and kind over the last few terse weeks. Grateful, because family has stepped in to pitch in with E and G – be it sleepovers, school runs, baby sitting, meal preps. Grateful because so much love has outpoured from friends – who accompany me on night duties via chats, who send gifts, who give mespace to sort myself out (thanks!), who drop encouraging lines on fb which I see when I’m feeling frustrated, bummed or discouraged, and who pop in for a sniff and a cuddle despite their crazy schedules – and tactfully do not mention that i am badly in need of a shower, change of clothes, and personal grooming. Grateful for work partners and team, who pick up the slack and keep things going so my mind is at ease.