Jill Writes

On August 16, 2010 Elliott Khye Yee, our 2nd child was born.

His estimated due date was on 28 August, 2010. Dr. Huam of DSH forewarned us that if Thea was born 2 weeks early, this little boy will highly likely be as well. In fact, the 2nd labour will most likely be much quicker than the first. Since Thea was born in less than an hour from beginning to the end, she told me to come in whenever something “abnormal” happens. *laughs* that was a very unspecific sign to watch out for, I must say!

On August 15 night the hubby asked if  I was ready for the arrival of the baby. I suppose I was, kinda. The house had less than 10 boxes more to unpack, but definitely livable. My MIL is here to care for Thea. I suppose I was as ready as I can ever be!

The next morning the hubby had an appointment at Putrajaya. He got up early and was stuck in traffic the whole journey there. Alas, he arrived, and received a nice text message from his wife who asked him to be prepared to come home.

I woke up and discovered slight pinkish discharge. I suppose that constituted “abnormality”. Called the doc up and she advised to come in to let her take a look. Asked the hubby to take his time to join me at the hospital while dear friend Coleen drove me there.

At 11.15am the doc checked my dilation. I jokingly told her that the hubby says the baby better come today because he’s got a busy work day the day after doc laughed but said that he wish will come true. “Up to the labour ward NOW!”, she said.

Apparently I was 6cm dilated. Doc said that it must be a good day for delivery since she already had 2 others in the labour ward awaiting labour. While we walked to the labour ward she told me I must have the gift of child birth, still walking and laughing at 6cm. I smiled, and thought, it is a funny (yes, funny, but a very very appreciated) gift to be bestowed with!

The midwife and nurses did the necessary – gave me the hospital gown, gave me the enema, strapped my belly to the CTG machine, and generally potting around to get the room ready while Yipp sorted out the admission, and while I updated Facebook.

From 11.30am to 1pm nothing eventful happened. Doc came to break my water as there was no contractions to hurry along the labour but discovered that there was meconium (he poo’ed in the water). They assured me that his heart beat shows that he is still okay so the waiting game continued. Doc instructed to have me moved to the nearest labour room closest to the lifts.

FINALLY, at about 1pm the contractions came in. It took 2 weak pushes to push Elliott’s head lower with the midwife’s guidance. A couple of minutes later the midwife told the nurse to call for the doc, and asked her to RUN. Imagine my stress when she kept saying “Ask her to RUN. Call EMERGENCY!!!” several times. She hardly had the time to put on her rubber gloves before I had the urge to push again. The midwife told her that with 2 pushes and I’ll be done so be QUICK!

So yes, 2 pushes and Elliott was gushed out with a whole bucket of water splashed ALL OVER.

Before the doc could sew me up she had to RUN to the next room for another delivery.

Elliott was such a sweet docile little boy. There was no feisty crying or kicking, and definitely no weeing on me like Thea did. He just lay there contented with his eyes opened. They placed him on me, skin to skin. I suppose since it’s my 2nd child birth at the same ward and same hospital, I was more aware of my surroundings and not so stressed out. With that I was able to really enjoy the minutes I had with Elliott post birth…

The doc eventually came back to sew me up before having to go to another room to deliver yet another baby for the day. Phew.

Thank God for answering my prayers for a quick labour (hey, less than 5 minutes? who can ask for more?), for giving me sufficient time to prepare for the hospital, and for a whole load of other prayers that I had for this delivery

As Elliott was born small, 2.56kilos, his glucose level was low. He was placed in the Special Care Nursery for 2 days to regulate his glucose. I went to see him 4-5 times in a day.

So my little Elliott Khye was born on August 16, 2010, at 13:08, an answered prayer for an August Baby Boy  – a prayer we made in December 2009.

His name, Elliott means The Lord is My God and Khye (余凯) means victorious and triumphant.

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I’m appalled.

Why? This blog has always been about my thoughts on life, family, kids, and all things good and pure. My readers are family and friends who love not just me, but my family, especially Thea, if I may say so. If you take the time to read, the comments left on my blog are by people who adore Thea and would love to hear updates about her.

This is MY space where I share my life – to celebrate joy and to remember moments.

So when individuals take what is pure and good and turn my words into gossip, or twist the intention behind the words, to cause strife within my family, that is just uncalled for. In fact, it is plain wrong. Why cause strife when there’s joy? Why not celebrate life and offer encouragement instead of creating problems? Is not life too short, and too complicated on its own? If I know that, having only lived for 30 years on this earth, what more you?

So do me a favour. If you’re not here to share my concerns as a mother to my children, or to celebrate life together as a friend, take your time elsewhere.

1. Proverbs 18:6
   A fool’s lips bring him strife, and his mouth invites a beating.
   
   
2. Proverbs 20:3
   It is to a man’s honor to avoid strife, but every fool is quick to quarrel.
   
   
3. Proverbs 22:10
   Drive out the mocker, and out goes strife; quarrels and insults are ended.

If your words do not edify, it is better to keep them to yourselves.

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This blog is not dead,well, at least not yet. There were so many things I’d like to share but was just overwhelmed with the moving, unpacking, and getting the house and environment ready for the arrival of baby E.

The physical work is almost done. The apartment is left with less than 10 boxes to put into places. Baby E’s room is ready, and so is Thea’s. The most challenging part of the work now is to have someone to take care of Thea’s daily needs – someone to cook for her, feed her, change her, shower her, play with her and put her to bed. The hubby’s mother (hereinafter referred to as MIL) is flown in from her hometown to help with the transition. Unfortunately the transition hasn’t been that smooth.

She’s not napping at the right time and neither is she sleeping well. HOURS before she falls off to bed she’d be tired and wanting me. To distract her, she is given VeggieTales or coaxed into play. Between her tears, wails, play, etc., I can’t rest a bit. I’d like to just grab her and cuddle up with her and just “protect” her from it all, but of course, I didn’t. I had to bite it back, hold it in, and secretly pray that she will just fall asleep. All I could do is to hide in my room, pray, and the feeling of guilt is just overwhelming.

In this season of the time the hubby is also roped in to help. He is tired. I am tired. Thea is tired. EVERYBODY is tired.

I suppose I have to really let go. Let go of the control I have, let go of perfectionism, let go of lots of other expectations. It’s tough, really tough.

Thea is affected, definitely. When she sees my room door closed or even the door to our bathroom closed, she lets out her wail. When left at the church’s nursery she cried. Thank God for a good teacher and helper like Lee Choo

I am stressed, yes, I am. For weeks I’ve labored to get the house ready, and when I think that I am about ready to have baby E into the world, I’m now preparing Thea for the change. The hubby, confinement nanny and the MIL will be of good help, but only the Lord can ease my worries, and give me the assurance of a peaceful household.

Lord, be with us, I pray.

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This is how I see  glimpses of a little girl emerging from the little baby whom she used to be:

One day several weeks ago I came in from the balcony with a load of laundry in my arms. With the bump and the laundry, I couldn’t see what was before me, and as I took a step down, my whole weight landed on one of Thea’s plastic toy cup. Yelping in pain, I sat down on the floor holding my right foot. I pointed at her toy and yelled that it shouldn’t be left scattered on the floor! She quickly picked up the cup and ran out into the living area to place it back where it belonged, ran back to me, crouched down on the floor, looked at my face, massaged my bruised foot, and gave me a hug and a kiss.

The pain was BAD. I had a really bad bruise for the next whole week or more. But what I remember more was the fact that Thea did what she thought was ‘right’ at the right time. How to stay angry at her for all that she’s done?

Just a few days ago while we were both getting comfy on our bed to take our afternoon nap, she accidentally knocked her (hard!) head against my brow bone. Again, I yelled out in pain. She held out her palm to pat my face and said, “ohgey? ohgey?“

Isn’t she sweet or isn’t she sweet?!

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Miracles by Celine Dion on YouTube

I had one of those sleepless nights 2 days ago. At 5 in the morning, a dear friend, Juli shared with me the song Miracles by Celine Dion. As I listened to lyrics to the song, it really brought tears to my eyes. As silly as this might sound, considering that I’ve spent almost every second of the day in the past 2.2 years with my little girl ever since she was born, I was suddenly brought to realization that I have never really stopped to enjoy this miracle that God has gifted me with. Yes, I feed her, I bathe her, I clean her, I put her to bed, but I’ve always been so ‘on-the-go’ with so many things to do one after another that I was concentrating too much on the doing rather than the enjoying. I clicked through her newborn pictures to her latest pictures on my iphoto and without knowing, I was bawling my eyes out.

Yes there were fleeting moments where we watch her achieve certain milestones and my face would lit up with pride and smile, there were tickling and cuddling, there were moments, but definitely not enough.

Darling Thea,

I’m sorry for all the times I didn’t stop and watch you…

I’m sorry when my actions tell you that I didn’t have time to play with you, and that chores were more important…

I’m sorry that I was too caught up with the presence of you (and all that follows) rather than just enjoying you…

I’m sorry that I didn’t hold you and just watch you breathe and smile… for I am not perfect and have my shortcomings, but I promise you I’ll strive to be better.

At 6 in the morning that day I went back to bed with red puffy eyes. Before sleep came, I stood beside her cot and spent a good few minutes looking at her, patting her bum and stroking her hair. It’s lifelong journey, but I felt like I’ve woken up the next day a better mother.

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One of my recent reads have been Elizabeth Noble’s “Things I want my Daughters to Know“. It’s quite strange reading in print what has been on my heart all these while even before I had children myself. I think it might be because my mummy left without leaving me with a special note/letter or something for me to hold on to, besides memories.

I’ve always knew that if time allows (say I don’t just leave this earth in a sudden!), I’d be the type of person who will plan out my own funeral, find the songs to be sung, the dress I’d want to be dressed in, choose my flowers, and will even request all who attend to be dressed in white, my favourite colour – not for mourning, but just that white signifies “simple beauty” to me.

I’d be the type who’d leave letters to people had been close to my heart – family and friends alike. I’d prepare sweet 16th birthday, graduation and wedding gifts to my daughter, all nicely wrapped up. I’d write to my son on different milestones in his life too. I’d write them stories about the mother whom they’ve never known, the mother who was once a little girl, a little daughter herself. I’d write about my dreams, my doubts, and my fears. I’d write about how much I love them. I’d write about what a miracle they are to me, and that in some ways, that I’ll always be there.

I love you, my babies. Yes, even you who is rumbling and tumbling about in my belly.

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On Thursday night I had my first session of yoga ever! It’s not my usual choice of exercise as I would prefer something in a faster pace, like a dance class or a work out session at the gym. But as it is, it is tough enough that I need to find a time where the hubby can take over caring for Thea (hey that’s why it’s so convenient on a week night, and late enough for *most* meetings or biz dinners to be over!), it is also tougher for me to do anything too vigorous now that I’m in my 6th month of pregnancy! So YOGA it was!

The session lasted for an hour at our residential spa with light stretching and breathing. I hardly felt any strain on myself, and was embarrassingly yawning away 30 minutes into the exercise. By the time we reached home, had a hot shower and tucked Thea into bed, my body felt like it was melting into my soft sheets! For some reason (the stretching or the breathing?) my body was really ready for a good slumber that night! But guess what? Of all nights I had the most interrupted sleep ever – from the hubby, the tot, and lots of random dreams.

We’ll try again next week I’m excited that I’m making the time and effort for some exercise – something I’ve not done since Thea was born!

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At pregnancy week 24 I went through a Glucose Tolerance Test (GTT), a standard test taken by all pregnant women here – at least that was what I was told. I fasted in the morning and went to the hospital at 10.30am for the GTT and my monthly check up with the gynae.

I had my first blood extraction at 11am and had a super sweet glucose drink of orange flavour (it’s a really unpleasant super sweet beverage!), then proceeded to my appointment with the doc. It was time for a detailed scan where she showed me baby Elliott’s… everything. Baby couldn’t stop moving about and even pushed the ultrasound instrument away. Throughout the scan he only gave us the side profile of his face. At one point he had one hand holding on to his ear. Doc says Elliott has nice cheeks, nice ears and long artistic fingers. Thea kept pointing to the screen and said, “see! see!” while busy occupying herself by picking up the ultrasound print outs and handing them to the doc. The doc had a little assistant

It was a joyous moment watching Elliott move

An hour later, at 12 noon, I had another blood extraction, another at 1pm and another one at 2pm. In between the hourly wait I tried my very best to entertain Thea so she wouldn’t have a melt down from hunger or tiredness. Finally at 2pm everything was over. By then I had 2 round stickers on each side of my arm, totaling 4. One had a blue black bruise for a good few days. On my home I felt totally drained and was trembling from hunger. I wasn’t able to concentrate on the driving and was on auto-pilot mode. Thank God that He kept us safe and was with me as we avoided a near-accident situation. Thinking back, I was looking at the oncoming motorcyclist coming towards me in slow motion, and in the last minute, something made me step on the accelerator and that avoided the whole possible collision.

Couldn’t take the hunger any longer, we stopped by a fast food drive-thru and I literally walloped the whole meal down my throat. If anyone took a video of me I’d probably look like I’ve not eaten in days or weeks. Thank God Thea had fallen asleep long before the crazy eating and the little drama on the road. 

In my last pregnancy with Thea I didn’t go through a GTT. From here I’ve read that the GTT is only done when a positive result of a glucose screening test is found. A routine glucose screening test is to check for possible gestational diabetes in pregnant women. Here in Dubai I’ve done so many more tests/screening and what not with this pregnancy than I had with Thea in KL. Ahhh the things we preggies are subjected to!

The test results came back negative. Praise God!

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For the past one over year that we’ve lived here in Dubai, we’ve driven passed the Dubai Zoo countless times. It’s located in a strange situation, really. It’s in the midst of some residences and some shops, smack right in Jumeirah. Since Thea has started to show interest and excitement when introduced to small animals like dogs, birds, rabbits and hamsters, I thought it’d be a good time to bring Thea to the zoo yesterday.

It was a burning hot day. Thankfully the zoo was a relatively small one so we were in there for less than 30 minutes in total. Entry to the zoo was dhs2 per person with the exception of kids below the age of  2 years, who are admitted without charge. We saw some tigers, lions, arabian wolves, arabian cats, monkeys, baboons, giraffes and lots more other animals. In less than 5 minutes Thea had sweat pouring down her little head. We were all agitated under the sun and later found solace at the Mercato Mall nearby. Bah, city people.

Have a very happy weekend ahead, everyone!

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…. ohkay, *I* didn’t say that.

I’m currently reading Candace Bushnell’s One Fifth Avenue. Bushnell tells the intertwined stories of 5 women who lives at One Fifth Avenue. It’s funny how  a book like that can get me thinking about so much in life. One of which that particularly struck me was something a 22-year-old said. In my own words, I rephrase. She says that girls her age are no longer desiring a career and postponing marriage. They want to marry at a young age and have children. Gone are the days where girls aspire to be tough career women and putting off marriage and having children till their late 20s or early 30s. Why? Because they don’t wanna end up like their mothers – unhappy.

Is this true? I know people in OUR generation mostly aspire to be tough career women (in our school days at least!). Does it mean that our daughters wouldn’t want to end up like *us*?

Well technically I didn’t end up being a tough career woman though I did want and thought I’d be. It just makes me think, that’s all.

A woman simply can’t have it all, can she? There’s always something to give. In Asia, we mostly graduate in our early 20s, and if we desire to pursue a professional career, e.g., a lawyer, a doctor, an accountant, that will take a couple of years more. Then come the years of working around the clock to learn the ropes, to prove your commitment, to sit for more professional papers. In the midst of all these, hopefully to find someone you can spend the rest of your life with, with whatever little time you have, that is. As it is, we know it’s impossible to do all that crazy hours if you have a husband and kids waiting for you at home. Like I said, something or someone has got to give. Your career, or your family?

Many working mums have written about their guilt in not putting their little ones to bed at night, or not having cooked for the whole family in weeks or months; but many (stay-at-home-moms) SAHMs have written about their miserable sleep deprived life with constant demands from the spouse and kids and never-ending chores. Where’s the balance in all these?

After 2 years, I’ve come to a place where I am contented, but wanting more. I am comfortable with where I am – a SAHM for this season in life. I choose to enjoy my little girl, my pregnancy and my hubby. I choose to experiment with cooking when I feel like doing so. When the season changes and I’m to do something more, I’d be prepared for it. For now I’d just learn to be a better mummy, a better wife, and a better woman.

for my 2 babies

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