Summer feels, and my relationship with water

I love the water! In fact, it came to me while doing laps yesterday that 'I actually have a relationship with the water!' And there's no other perfect time to think about dipping oneself in cool waters than this summer. Yes, after a cool period in the first quarter of the year, temperatures have begun to rise here in Singapore. Makes me wanna hit the beach or the pool pronto!

Seems like I am not the only who has a relationship with the water!

Perhaps that is why I have been dragging my family to swim for two Saturdays now at the nearby club. Oh, I finally tried the kid's water slide there, and gosh it has rekindled my longing for water slides. I was pregnant in the second half of last year when I discovered that water slides can simply make me happy. 😁😁😁 But I just couldn't do it then for the sake of safety. Since I have given birth and gotten my OB's approval to swim, now is the time!!! I told Rene I am going to hit the Adventure Cove Waterpark at Sentosa with the kids one of these days. 😎😎😎 

The heat has also put me into reminiscing mode. 'Coz again, I already have quite a longstanding relationship with the water. Track record? This and this! But also, reminiscing is what happens when you are on maternity leave and refuse to leave the house because you're building a milk stash for the time when you return to work (and you told a friend that you refuse to meet him because your confidence is very low???).  

This is how much I love the water: I immediately get the urge to swim when I see a body of water. What a waste to have that much water when you cannot swim in it! That's what I felt when I first visited the MacRitchie Reservoir. I totally get it that not all water here in the planet is for swimming - it's for drinking, too!!! - but but... 

Ironically though, I am very lazy to take a shower at home when there is no reason to go out! Hihihi! But taking a shower is different from swimming or simply dipping in the water. Wahhh!!!

So I remember, on my second and final year of graduate school (thesis time so I already had my own schedule), I would hit the university swimming pool in the morning for an hour's swim after having my breakfast; how I loved the warmth of the sun on my damp skin. I would like to think that my obsession "culminated" in a recital - a chance to participate in a charity swimming event, where participants were given 20 minutes to swim and every lap completed was matched with a certain amount by donors. Since then, I have made it a habit to swim, made it a practice from one pregnancy to another; more so post-pregnancy, as is the case now.

That's endorphin-filled me after the swim, almost a decade ago! 

Two days ago, I was completing my usual 1-km swim in the pool when this special request occurred to my mind: When my time is up here, please throw my ashes into a body of water that you'd imagine me enjoying a good swim. Where? First thing that came to my mind was the beaches of Capri - I can just imagine how lovely it would be to swim in the warm Mediterranean waters in the summer. I could have done it when I visited last July - in the midst of the heat wave - but I got seasick in my attempt to get into the Blue Grotto. It took me about three hours to recover from the nausea so I missed the swimming in that day's schedule of activities. So that's one option (but I can also imagine dreading to swim in the thick of winter! Haha, as if my soul would be bothered!).

This was the closest I could get to Bagni di Tiberio - a view from Anacapri
(I had a reservation for a sun bed but missed it!) 

An alpine lake or river would do, actually. (In fact, it would not just do, it would be a delight to my weary soul...just that Europe is so far away. But I think I now prefer fresh to saltwater). One of my fondest memories was when the family had a dip in the river Isar at the English Garden in Munich during our trip in the summer of 2015. Looking back, I was really delighted that Rene and the kids welcomed the idea of taking a dip, just like what the many others were doing that one sunny afternoon. Silly us, we ended up rushing to our dinner appointment with our wet clothes on (Rene's and mine)! Thankfully, the summer heat dried our clothes quite fast. 

Wouldn't you want to take a dip, too?

Us four, back in August 2015

Pax didn't complain at all! 

And Umi was such a trooper!

The after-dinner photo with our now-dried clothes =)

Having said that, I do not mind hitting the beach these days. Sentosa would be good, we're just kinda busy in the weekends with Paco's baptism and our trip to the Philippines coming up. Anyway, I am already happy that I get to do my laps in the pool these days. As for the beach, I am already good with our Krabi trip last January, which in a way was already like celebrating summer 2018 in advance. =)

We visited Krabi before I popped.

The kids snorkelled. But their first was actually a year ago in Phuket.
 I am a proud mommy!

Us five (Paco in my tummy) in Krabi, January 2018

Pax's delivery - what to expect when your labor is induced?

It has been over three years since Pax was born. I often say that I haven't bothered to write an entry about my second birthing experience given how arduous it was that I can hardly remember a thing. I was lucky I was able to deliver Pax naturally still, without epidural. But I did ask for epidural at some point, I recall, but re-considered given the rapid progress of labor. The nurse instead gave me Entonox (laughing gas) and it certainly helped me manage the intense pain. Given what I went through, I would never allow myself to be induced again. N-E-V-E-R again, spell that out! (Meaning, if I can avoid it, I certainly will!) It was my ignorance about the effects of labor induction that put me in that agonizing situation.

But I am surprised to see in my drafts that I was able to jot down the main points about my second delivery. I have cleaned the draft a bit, but nonetheless remained faithful to an earlier (and thus, more reliable) personal recollection of Pax's entry into the world.
--
Pax arrived two weeks earlier. His EDD was supposed to be on the 24th of January 2015. He was born on the 13th of January, a Tuesday, at 12:39am.

Childbirth, the second time around, was no way easier than my first.

My water bag broke at around 5am on Monday. Rene and I headed straight to Mt. Alvernia Hospital, afraid that contractions will start sooner than I can turn over my work to my bosses ('coz I was still planning to report to work that week). But mild contractions only started in the evening at around 7pm, after a dose of prostaglandin in the morning and oxytocin in the evening. Because labor progressed very slowly, my OB suggested over the phone that we opt for a C-section. I already had an inkling that this option might be raised while Rene and I were still lingering around the hospital corridors earlier in the day, waiting for labor to start. I just did not want to entertain the idea as I had no plans of going through a major surgery.

Hearing the OB suggest a C-section was hard to swallow for me, and Rene understood that. So we asked our OB to re-assess the situation when she would arrive at the hospital. Rene and I prayed hard for a miracle. No C-section please. What if something goes wrong? I feared of death and the thought of leaving my lovely kiddos and husband behind.

Miraculously, when the OB arrived at the hospital about an hour later, her vaginal examination (VE) indicated that I was already about 5cm dilated and that there was actually no need of a C-section at that point. We realized that the nurse or mid-wife who had been attending to me earlier did not ask me to pee every time she did the VE. And that made all the difference. Apparently, when your bladder is full, the cervix could appear less dilated. I can imagine the enlarged bladder taking the space of a supposedly wider cervix, causing erroneous measurements.

Labor did progress minutes later. But I was taken a back at how the contractions suddenly became excruciatingly painful. It was not supposed to be that way; from my experience with Umi and what Rene and I learned from the childbirth class we had attended, the pain intensity was supposed to build up gradually. However, this one was rather highly accelerated (this is an understatement!). I soon got so tired from bearing the pain that I began asking for epidural. However, the nurse told us that it would take 0.5-1 hour to get the anesthesiologist. So she offered me the laughing gas instead. The laughing gas turned out to be a real blessing, I survived the whole ordeal without an epidural!

Inhaling the laughing gas during contractions helped ease the excruciating labor pains. It also made me groggy and I felt that my body was beyond my control. I heard Rene's voice and felt at peace that he was with me at that moment. I thought, 'maybe, maybe you truly love the person when you still want to be with him during the toughest point in your life' (naks!). The gas was definitely helping me manage the pain...and making me hallucinate, too? 

Then the time to push came. The nurse took away the gas from me so I can be alert to push with every contraction. Looking back, the gas was actually a way to conserve my energy for the unimaginable effort required to push out the baby. 

The pushing stage seemed to last forever. I wanted to give up but there was no turning back. After what seemed like eternity, Pax came out. He was beautiful. My Pax, our Pax. 

The gas was again offered to me during the delivery of the placenta and during stitching because of the episiotomy. 

After Pax was cleaned, he was brought back to me on the bed. He was lovely. He seemed to want to talk, as if he wanted to tell me about the tough time he went through to see this world. (He did actually look like the world had treated him terribly, only to find out later on that this is another bungisngis kid of ours!) Our encounter, however, was cut short when the nurses informed me that Pax had to be brought to the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit). Pax apparently had difficulty breathing. But after a few more checks, we were told that his condition was stable and that we didn't have to worry. 

Rene and I celebrated this another feat of ours with toasted bread and warm Milo. As there was no available 1-bedder at the hospital that night, I was temporarily placed in a 2-bedder. That meant that Rene cannot stay with me. So he went home shortly and slept with Umi instead.  

In my room, I tried to sleep but couldn't. My emotions certainly hadn't calmed down from what just transpired. I passed the time by searching the internet about Pax's breathing difficulty and found out that it could be due to the synthetic oxytocin that was used to induce labor. Thankfully, that initial breathing problem did not interfere with his ability to feed from my breast, and that Pax and I had a wonderful breastfeeding relationship. 

Pax at 6 weeks old. Still looking like the world owes him a great deal! Hahaha!

That bungisngis chubbikin at 6 months old with his Papa and Ate Umi

Oh, this mischievous boy now! At 3 years and 4 months.

Postscript:

Risks of labor induction (from Journal of Perinatal Education, 2006)

Induction of labor alters the process of labor and birth in significant ways. The cervix often needs to be softened before pitocin (synthetic oxytocin) will be effective. Pitocin causes contractions that both peak and become stronger more quickly than naturally occurring contractions. The result is a labor that is more difficult to manage. In addition, the uterine muscle never totally relaxes between contractions, increasing stress on both the uterus and the baby. Because of the increased potential risks for the uterus and the baby, continuous electronic fetal monitoring is indicated. The fetal monitor and intravenous line make movement more difficult. The hormonal orchestration of labor is disrupted. Pitocin does not cross the blood-brain barrier; therefore, endorphins are not released in response to the increasingly strong and painful uterine contractions. Laboring women do not experience the benefits of endorphins as they try to manage their contractions. Additionally, without the help of endorphins, they are likely to require an epidural. The epidural alters the course of labor, prolonging the length of both first- and second-stage labor and increasing the need for the use of instruments at birth. Without high levels of naturally occurring oxytocin and endorphins, catecholamine levels do not surge at the time of birth, and the mother and her baby are less alert and able to interact in the moments after birth.

Elective induction increases the risk of giving birth to a baby that is near-term (born between 35 and 37 weeks, even when it seems the baby should be 38–40 or even 42 weeks by dates). In spite of their physical appearance, near-term infants are physiologically and developmentally significantly less mature than full-term infants and are at increased risk for mortality and morbidity in the newborn period (Wang, Dorer, Fleming, & Catlin, 2004). The near-term infant is at increased risk for temperature instability, hypoglycemia, respiratory distress, apnea and bradycardia, and clinical jaundice (Wang et al., 2004). The baby's difficulty in coordinating suck/swallow and breathing abilities contributes to problems with feeding; subsequently, poor feeding adds an increased risk of hyperbilirubinemia (Sarici et al., 2004).

A blast from the past

March was comp month in investment banking, at least at my old shop. One night, I was stunned to read an eFinancialCareers article detailing the average annual pay (base pay + bonus) of 1st-3rd year VPs across the top-tier investment banks. Had I stayed, I would have been a 2nd-year VP by now and I can’t help but feel a sudden tinge of regret with the potential sum that I had decided to forego.

Had I stayed, my bonus would have immediately allowed me to purchase in cash that piece of lot that I have been eyeing for months now, a family vacation at Amanpulo, and that Cartier Tank Louis Cartier watch that I think I would only be comfortable of buying in two years or so. And despite these big-ticket purchases, I would still have a significant amount set aside for savings (this is just my presumption given previous pays and the latest published estimates)! Hmph. That night, the difficulty of leaving a career in investment banking - which hit me when I was already considering to accept a job offer from a different industry last year - all of a sudden came back to me.

But the truth is, I would have only stayed in IB solely for the money. And I would not have been happy with myself had I done that. Life is too short to spend one's time for a prolonged period on money alone, you know. I spent four years in IB (so I'd like to think I have saved something, although certainly not enough for a house downpayment here huhu but never mind!) and at some point in my latter two years, it crossed my mind during one of those late-night stays at the office, that what if I die here? This company and my colleagues would simply move on, while in my last breaths I would certainly regret not being able to spend as much quality time with my young children and pursuing something that I would like to do career-wise.

The life I left - I was just two months into the job here. This photo was taken on a Friday. Little did I know then, when this photo was taken, that I would be stuck at the office until 5am the following day writing about Malaysia's 2014 Budget. But I miss this trio - in the middle is our research assistant visiting from Bangalore and to the right is the best boss I may ever have (hopefully not!). A very good man. All three have left this shop and moved on.

Still, the weeks approaching the submission of my resignation letter was utterly difficult. How could you leave a high-paying, high-profile career that many people dream and strive for, one that promises quite a clear progression with supportive bosses, and one that is surprisingly family-friendly given the flexibility that it offers despite the job's well-known demanding nature? But when I finally moved into my new job, it only took me less than a month to know that I had made the right decision, at least at this particular point in my life when I have young kids to take care of and no PhD. Sad to say that despite all my considerations of staying, much of it boiled down to the pay.

But life is not all about the money. I would like to believe that life is more about pursuing dreams (once you have enough savings perhaps, or with the hope that the financial aspect will follow) and becoming better versions of ourselves. After my second year at IB, after I learned the ropes of being an economist in the sell-side and in the commercial setting, I started to yearn for depth again. The idea of returning to school and taking a PhD to get a good training in research came to haunt me again. It took me months to realize an ideal arrangement given my particular situation.

Thing is, I am no longer as determined as I used to be to go back to graduate school. A lot of this sentiment has to do with the fact that graduate school will also not allow me to be as present for my children as I want to be. Moreover, I want to help my husband in providing a comfortable life for my family. Furthermore, I need to support my own family (my parents and sometimes, my siblings) and it would be uncomfortable to ask my husband to support them when he himself is also supporting his own family.

So the ideal situation for me would be a research career that does not have to follow markets closely and no frequent travel, unlike in investment banking. After several times spent googling in the office toilet cubicle, 'investment banking exit strategy' or something like that and a couple of job interviews wherein the prospective employer is just curious why I want to leave a high-paying job, God heard my prayers with the role that I have now (I had applied at least three times within five years here until they finally noticed me!). What I am happiest with my current role is the fact that I can focus spending my time with my children and on other activities that interest me without worrying about what I am missing from the rest of the world. (You gotta be well-informed because chances are high that clients would ask you about certain market-moving or potential risk events sooner than later. Oh well, maybe I hadn't really adjusted enough to IB life. But I also knew then that I would like to teach my kids how to read and be able to bake their birthday cakes, things that IB life cannot guarantee I can do.)

Moreover, I now have the opportunity to do in-depth research, so I treat my current role as a substitute to a PhD training. This role would also allow me to upskill myself as an economist and give me the opportunity to write research papers, which I feel would make me a more competent economist. (Writing these down to remind myself haha!).

So after the surprise that night, that tinge of regret, and jealousy too, has died down. I guess it is normal to feel a tinge of jealousy towards former colleagues or other successful investment bankers every now and then - you know, when you came so close to that life that could afford you luxury vacations and all. Sometimes, I asked myself why I felt IB was not for me, when many other women have made it to managing directors or higher. But then, we each are in different circumstances and have different sets of priorities. So there is no point of comparing.

And someone once told me, it is God who planted those dreams in you. That is perhaps why my heart beats for something else, at least not for financial markets at this point.

Welcoming Paco - a water birth experience

7:00pm, 10 March (Saturday) - 5cm dilated
It would be my third warm shower at the hospital since Rene and I were admitted at 2pm the previous day. This was my attempt to facilitate the progress of my labor which has moved so slowly. In truth, I was also scared of my impending delivery (and the fear may also be delaying my labor). Yes, I had delivered Umi and Pax through unmedicated natural births more than 5 and 3 years ago, respectively - each a different experience - but I have somehow forgotten how it is to deliver naturally again. I wondered whether my body and psyche can still handle the stress and trauma of childbirth, more so naturally.

Hinting that I had finished showering, Rene came in to the toilet and offered to dry me with the towel.

Perhaps a residue of my shower reflections, I told him, “Tumatanda na ata ako, bii.” (I think I am getting old already, love.)

"Why do you say that, bii?" Rene asked.

“It’s because I am not as energetic as before. Remember Umi’s delivery when I mostly walked for 5 hours (from 2 to 7pm), which may have likely increased  the dilation of my cervix from 1cm to 5cm? I even continued to walk during the active phase of labor until around 9pm. This time around, I get tired easily.” I explained.

Rene replied, “Kaya bii this is your, our last. Had you gotten yourself pregnant with me when you were in your 20s, then yes maybe we could have had 10 kids by now.”

I was caught off guard, then laughed at Rene's half-meant joke. Rene was poking fun at me, after I earlier said that I want to have at least three kids, which would imply that I am still hoping for more after the birth of Paco. I am just kidding though, perhaps also half-meant. But really, if money and time are not an issue, which to us are, why not have 5 kids? The more, the merrier!

9:30 - 10:30pm, 10 March (Saturday) - 7cm dilated 

The long wait - one of those false alarms

At past 9 that night, I requested to be taken to the delivery suite. After a couple of false alarms, that would be my second time at the suite that day and my third since the day before. I felt that the contractions, and the pain that came with each contraction, had somewhat intensified though still bearable. However, I also didn't want to wake up in the middle of the night with unbearable pain and being rushed to the delivery suite, which was some distance from the ward. The distance was indeed a concern among the medical staff in the ward; they fear that I could deliver on the way to the delivery room, especially as that was my third pregnancy and the delivery can be swift.

In my last attempt to do some physical activity to hasten my labor and save face among the staff at the delivery suite (hopefully, this is it this time around!!!), I decided to walk the 200-300 meters distance along with the nurse and Rene, instead of being transported on a wheelchair. Since Friday when I was admitted at 3cm dilated, Rene and I had been walking around the hospital, taking the stairs from the fourth to the ninth floor several times in order speed up my labor.

We reached the delivery suite and were immediately placed in the water birthing room. We were lucky that the room with the biggest tub was always available in the times that I checked in at the suite. After some minutes of waiting, the resident doctor came to do a vaginal examination (VE) on me. The VE indicated that I was 7cm dilated. He strongly advised to break my water bag. He had earlier advised to break my water bag, when I was 5cm dilated earlier in the afternoon. But I did not agree as there was no assurance that my labor would progress. I might just end up being induced, which I strongly tried to avoid after my experience with my second delivery.

Into the bath tub after water bag was burst
This time, the doctor assured me that with my body having committed to labor already, albeit progressing slowly, breaking the bag of waters would speed up my labor. I finally agreed. And the actual breaking was not painful at all, I just felt a small gush of warm water came out of me. Then by some miracle, I felt the need to groan with the next contraction, a sign that the contraction had further intensified. I heard the nurse saying that she will be preparing the tub already. Two to three more contractions and I was told to get to the tub. But that before that, I had to pee. From the bowl to the tub, I was caught in the middle of another contraction. When I finally immersed myself in the warm water, which to me felt like it was not even warm enough, the pain of the rest of that contraction somewhat subsided. The pain did not totally go away though - I still made the same noise, groaning and crying. But the warm water definitely eased the pain.

A few seconds earlier, I remember the nurse asking my husband whether he would like to join me in the tub. I sensed some hesitation in him, although he immediately decided to get into the tub as well. I tried to figure out what position would help ease the pain I was feeling, and I thought it was going to be on all fours. But the nurse advised me to lean back on my husband’s chest.

Why I had to go through this pain?
I groaned and cried with every contraction that followed. I noticed that the pain was more bearable this time than with my previous childbirths (I didn't have to pant and do ha-ha-hu's which was my experience with Umi at the most challenging transition phase of labor), but they were nonetheless very painful. I thought then that no one should go through this pain at all. Why was I here? I wanted to do natural birth; it will be good for my baby. But make it longer for me, and I was afraid that I would just snap with the pain. I thought to myself, this would be my last childbirth.

Some more contractions of the same pain intensity and I heard my OB, Dr. Vanaja, enter the bathroom. I heard her commenting to the nurse that she heard me groaning from the other room. She stayed to sit by the tub. In between contractions, I would ask the nurse to add more water to the tub - I would have wanted my shoulders to be immersed in water, too, but to no avail. So I asked my husband to pour water on to my shoulders and chest. At the same time, I found the gush of running water to be very comforting during contractions.

8cm to 9cm dilated, then push!
Perhaps three to five more contractions of the same pain intensity and I heard the nurse say that I was already 8cm and then 9cm dilated. I suddenly had the urge to push which I uttered for everyone to know. To my surprise, Dr. Vanaja, encouraged me to push (in my previous deliveries, I was only allowed to push when I reached 10cm as doing so prematurely would lead to a swelling and bad tear of the vagina).

The science of pushing
There was a science to the pushing. Proper pushing required taking a deep breath and then holding it in (and pushing it down) as you tuck your chin to your chest with mouth completely closed and as you spread out your upper thighs with your arms. I failed in the first three attempts to push, which came with every contraction. I found that every contraction would give me an opportunity to push three times, each 6 to 8 seconds long. After taking in my breath, I would also partly open my mouth to exhale as I pushed down slightly. With a forceful voice, Dr. Vanaja reminded me that I was doing it wrongly. She reminded me again, step by step, how to do it properly as I prepared for the next contraction.

Somehow, probably in the fourth and fifth attempts, the steps sank in to me. And I began to gear up for the next contraction and simultaneously, the urge to push. I remember, as I felt the earliest sign of contraction, I parted my upper thighs and felt like floating in the water, like I was swimming again. The situation, all of a sudden, became familiar to me - I was suddenly brought back to the feeling when I would swim in warm water in the months and weeks approaching this moment. This was of course not to discount the fact that the pushing stage was the most difficult part of my water birth experience. It felt like the pain was never going to end. I wondered when I would ever see Paco. I wondered if I would end up delivering Paco via c-section.

1:32am, 11 March (Sunday) - Welcome to the world, Paco!
Fortunately, I was encouraged to hear from Dr Vanaja, the nurse, and Rene that Paco was already crowning. And that I was doing it right. I think it was in the 6th contraction that Paco finally slipped through me. Just like that, I was already holding Paco in my arms. I couldn’t help but utter ‘Oh my God’ and sobbed. I couldn’t believe that it is over (according to the hospital record, Paco came out at 1:32am on 11 March so it took me about 3 hours from 7cm to delivery, although it did feel much shorter). I couldn’t be bothered posing for the camera. I just wanted to stare at my son, until Rene reminded me to smile for posterity's sake.

Rene cuts Paco's umbilical cord
Past 3 minutes and after all the posterity shots were taken in the bath tub, Rene cut Paco's umbilical cord. It would be my very first to see the umbilical cord being cut among my three children. The beauty with a water birth is that everything seemed to be close by. Had I wanted it, I would have touched and felt my baby’s head as it crowned from my opening. I would have also caught my baby as he slipped through me. And now, the umbilical cord is being cut right before my very eyes. The water birth experience was far different from when you are lying on the hospital bed and there seems to be a division between the upper and lower half of your body.

When the tub water turned red
The baby was eventually taken from me for the standard measurements and I was led to stand and walk back to my bed. The moment I stood in the tub was the moment the water, which was getting drained, turned into red. I hadn’t delivered my placenta then yet. I overheard Rene asking how he could change and take a bath. He was advised to do so in the tub. He later shared how he ended up showering with an ankle-length of blood-filled water. Sorry bii, but I admire your courage.

Third stage of labor - delivering the placenta
Back on the hospital bed, Dr Vanaja assessed that I had about 1cm of natural tear from the delivery and this would require a few stitches. There was also some discomfort and pain as the placenta was delivered. This is what I don't like about childbirth - you think everything is over with the baby's delivery, wait until your placenta has been fully delivered and you have been stitched. The latter would involve another round of pain and discomfort. But thanks to local anesthesia, things were a bit bearable.

The ordeal post delivery - uterine atony
Except that I bled profusely. The nurse had to keep on massaging my tummy to encourage the uterus to contract and ease the bleeding. Everything seemed manageable though at the delivery ward, not until I was transported to my room after Paco had latched on each of my breast for about an hour. Rene and I were initially looking forward to celebrating with a chilled Pokka carrot fruit juice and Burger King taro pie. Imagine - we made it together with this child birthing the third time around?!

4:00am, 11 March (Sunday) - Back to the ward
It was around 4am when I arrived in my room and the nurses and midwives started to congregate around my vagina, worrying why the blood flow wasn’t stopping. I heard Rene asking them whether I needed a blood transfusion. The nurse answered that I didn’t need then as my vital signs remained normal, but that the trolley has been prepared outside just in case. It felt forever being attended to by the medical team, with someone keeping on massaging my tummy as if she were stirring a bowl of sticky porridge. The blood flow didn’t seem to ease and I wondered when this will ever end, will I ever see the light of day. My children are so young.

6:00am, 11 March (Sunday) - Wrapping up
I overheard a staff say it was 6am when they wrapped up with me. They ‘overdose’ me with oxytocin (to use Rene's words) to encourage my uterus to contract and close the blood vessels and ease the bleeding. Rene was asleep, out of exhaustion. I, on the other hand, was wide awake. I couldn’t sleep. Every time I tried to sleep, I would be startled in my dream, ultimately leaving me awake. I was starting to get bothered (I thought then, 'This is the start of anxiety and depression - this cannot be!'). I called for the nurse to massage my head, recalling that I had a bottle of virgin coconut oil in my bag. That nurse turned out to be a good masseuse, lucky me! I also shared how I couldn't sleep, to relieve myself from the worries. She comforted me, explaining that maybe it is my body’s psychological reaction to the recent turn of events.

The redemption
Still I couldn't sleep after the nurse left. So I prayed the rosary. I was able to finish the whole Glorious mystery. It was quite symbolic - we arrived at the hospital on a Friday starting with the Sorrowful mystery (the agony of labor?), carried on on Saturday with Joyful (the excitement of seeing Paco?), and finally the Glorious mystery on a Sunday (with Paco finally out - he and I surviving it all). There is redemption after all.

Rene woke up past 7am and he shared to me what had transpired just hours earlier. It seemed that finally, things have come under control. We waited for the doctor’s go-signal for me to take a meal. Finally at around 10am, we were able to enjoy our much-awaited celebratory meal - the carrot juice and taro pie.

Postscript
Being inutile during those hours of severe bleeding (I lost about 800mL of blood, but still lucky me I didn't lose more!) and even when I was recovering at the hospital were totally humbling (I couldn't even pee on my own without a catheter or a staff to help me.). I look up to the medical professionals who attended to my needs with great care - from the EMMa Care staff and nurses/midwives at the Delivery Suite to the team at the Coral Suite of NUH, my utmost gratitude. Thank you as well to the team who took care of Paco at the Nursery Room while I was recovering after the delivery.

I would also like to thank Dr. Vanaja for supporting me in my desire to do water birth. She has been very objective in providing me reliable information on the pros and cons of water birthing. I also appreciated her strong voice and clear direction when I was at the pushing stage; it made things a lot more efficient. Apart from the heavy bleeding (which may have come with age?), it was really a pleasant water birth experience. Indeed, I got what I wished for - a different, albeit still pleasant (yet risky?), birthing experience the third time around.

The joy of holding Paco after the agony of labor

Hello, baby Paco Matthias.

The family is delighted to welcome baby Paco.

(No)Travel bug

I was browsing through my drafts here and found this. I wonder why I didn't publish this. Anyway, this must have been written some time in late 2013 through the first quarter of 2014, the first six months since I moved back to Singapore.

I have actually forgotten about the excitement of travel. I got so caught up with work that I am afraid to say I do not know how to enjoy anymore.

But recently, I realized that I am still capable of having fun.

A colleague at work invited me to attend his gig at a bar on a Saturday night. R was here so I tagged him along. We just stayed there for an hour but I really enjoyed listening to the songs the band played. And it was actually the first time that R and I were out in a bar late at night together. It was just one pleasant night. And I liked the gin and tonic!

Then more recently, I discovered the joy of actually playing with my 17-month-old daughter. Oh how heartwarming it is to see my daughter light up with the silly games I make up. Oh dear, since then I have found myself eager to go home just to play with this lovely kiddo.

And there's travel. I think I have at least 21 days of annual leave. And I am supposed to make plans to go somewhere with my family, especially that Umi is still less than 2 years old, meaning free airfare. But honestly in the past months, I did not have any drive to go somewhere. I started to associate non-budget plane rides to work stress.

So it's quite relieving to have my travel bug reawakened when I saw these videos. Hopefully, I will be back to my normal self soon.

http://www.wimp.com/travelsworld/