From the soapberry family

Look what just made an appearance not too long ago!

Lychees, or otherwise known as Litchi chinensis, can be quite a hit and miss in this country - it is not always the case that you can get good ones. Most times, they turn out to be really sour, and not worth the money you spent -  one of the reasons why I stopped buying them for a long time, really.

The lychee season is still in its early days, and so far, we have only been able to score these really sweet, succulent, juicy lychees from the supermarket. Quite rare! They looked so big and so red that they literally begged to be bought. Easily one of my favourites!

I have not seen any in sight at the street stalls, and I reckon it won't be long before they hit the streets to replace the rambutans.

The 1st Curveball: Silent Reflux

3 words to describe our week: Manic.Manic. Manic.

I wish I could say that all has been fine and dandy; and that whatever trick that Squirt’s gonna pull, we’ll be more prepared to handle the situation better given that (we thought!) Spud has already thrown us more than enough curveballs when she was an infant. 

But! We forgot one thing – Spud never did have the reflux (or colic).

 

Squirt, as I mentioned in my previous post, has been fussing quite a bit in the last few days. The contented little baby we had, turned into this bundle of fury that could not stop crying. The only time he wasn’t wailing was when he was at my breasts. 

Being the breast fed baby that he is, I fed him on demand. I thought nothing of it as I was conditioned to think that feeding on demand is good for my milk supply, and as a nursing mother, I was also often told that “it is not possible to overfeed a breastfed baby.” 

He was always ravenous, feeding with gusto every half an hour and could never seem to feed enough. He was gaining weight and filling up his diaper quite a bit.  I mistook it for a growth spurt and at one point, even thought that I probably was not producing enough milk. 

He continued fussing incessantly at the breasts. Every so often, I noticed the piercing screams and grimace on his face after each feeding session as if he was in such a terrible pain. Although he only sometimes spat up, he had violent hiccups,  he was gagging and choking, he was arching his back whilst feeding and he seemed to be in such intense pain whenever he needed to burp or when he was about to do a poo. His sleeping, especially at night was lousy and he kept us awake for several hours on end over several days.  His nose sounded stuffed, he was coughing quite a lot and every cough was again accompanied by a cry of pain. 

It broke my heart. I wanted him to stop hurting, yet I felt really helpless. He calmed down only when he was feeding. And he was feeding excessively. 

Turning to Mr. Google, I started to research and the results pointed to the direction of Squirt potentially having a silent reflux. 

As it stands, most babies are born with some degree of reflux problem. With silent reflux, the acid comes up to the esophagus, but the child will swallow it back down – which explains why Squirt was not spitting up too much.  Many times, the infant will develop a food aversion and refuse to eat as he learns to associate pain with feeding. Occasionally, as in the case of Squirt, the opposite happened – we have an infant who comfort feeds, eating excessively as the milk coats the esophagus allowing temporary relief, and perhaps, pushes the food back down. It’s a vicious cycle.

So, off to the Pediatrician we went. Our PD seemed to agree with our suspicion of Squirt having a reflux problem and prescribed us with Air-X. She also told us to put Squirt on a strict feeding schedule – he is to be fed only every 2 hours and very.strictly.not.less. 

I have to admit that I was skeptical at the doctor’s order and doubt that it will work on a breastfed baby. I thought putting Squirt on a schedule seemed ridiculous for a breastfed baby. It would put the breastfeeding NAZI to shame! It was a tall order. 

It was not easy putting Squirt on a 2-hour schedule; it meant that we have to endure the hours of crying. However, we saw some improvement within the day we gave Squirt his meds and putting him on a 2 hour feeding schedule as ordered. It took all that I had to not give in. 

Who would have thought that the demand feeding we thought he needed was exactly the very thing which caused him such suffering.  It has been almost a week now since we put Squirt on a routine schedule to remedy his reflux. I don’t know how long more it will take before Squirt can minimize his crying while waiting to be fed as we work on his 2-hour feeding routine.

His crying is driving me insane, but I am glad that we caught this early enough. 

And I guess, at this point in time, both Squirt and me (and the rest of our household members), have a lot of getting used to.

Gastro Divinity

When (my) Mom hit the kitchen, this is the spread we get for one of our home-cooked meals!

Fried Fish + Fried Chicken + Egg Omelette + Sambal + Coconut Rice = Nasi Lemak

Such simple food, yet so delishly flavourful. It's always a treat to be spoilt by my Mom's Nasi Lemak amongst her other divine dishes.

Getting an Amnio

When I was about 16 weeks pregnant with Squirt, the results from one of the routine blood test had immediately put me in a high-risk group of having a baby with Down syndrome. 

The odds that was presented to me was 1 in 55 as compared to the average of 1 in 256 (according to the doctor) for women my age.  The numbers presented seemed scarier when the doctor compared it to my previous results when I was pregnant with Spud – 1 in 1188.

As much as the thought of a fat-ass needle being poked through my stomach sickened me to death, we knew that I had to get the amniocentesis done. I knew that I want to get the test done, and there would also be no question as to what our decision was to be if I was to carry a child with Down…

For those not familiar with amniocentesis, the test involves taking a small amount of amniotic fluid, i.e the water that surrounds the baby in the womb which contains cells from the baby that will be tested in the laboratory. Before the test is performed, however, an ultrasound scan will be carried out to check the estimated gestation period and the position of both the baby and the placenta.  When all of that is done, the skin over the abdomen is cleaned and a fine needle is then inserted into the stomach to extract the fluid from the womb. Throughout the procedure, the position of both the baby and the needle are monitored by the ultrasound.

I remember squeezing the hell out of Silver Bullet’s hand when the needle was inserted in my stomach – mostly because I always cringe at the sight of needle and just out of sheer nervousness. I had my eyes closed the entire time, not wanting to look even at the ultrasound screen.  To be honest, though, it was a relatively short test of not more than 5 minutes. It was over before I knew it, and, really, the thought of it was worse than the actual test. The entire experience was more uncomfortable rather than painful.

When it was over, I was given quite a high dose of Ventolin in a tablet form (apparently to help relax the uterus) and was under strict instruction to restrict my movement for 2-3 days. I thought it was a bit exaggerated, thinking that I should still be able to go to work the next day. After all, I am mostly desk-bound.  But Doctor Ah-Chai meant business. In fact, he put his foot down by giving me 2 days of medical leave instructing me to do a lot of bed rest.

While I had no intention to follow his instructions (which I really thought was an over exaggeration), I bit my tongue. Little did I know that the aftermath of Amnio can be so exhausting!  By the time I got home, my heart started to palpitate quite aggressively – a side effect of the Ventolin. I had something that felt similar to period pain and I felt so exhausted that I could hardly peel myself away from the couch. This continued on for the next 2 days as the cramps persisted and the exhaustion overwhelmed me.  It has to be said that Dr. Ah-Chai wasn’t kidding about me having to do some bed rest and stay off my feet!

What became more agonizing was the weeks and weeks of waiting. One week became two and two weeks became three, and then we were due to fly to Holland for our 2-week vacation. When I called after 14 days, they informed me that they were still testing it; which lead to further nervousness on my end, thinking that something was godawfully wrong.

At that time, I was only too aware of the timeline that they may just release the results when we were already in Holland, and by then I was well into my 24 weeks of pregnancy to consider TOP (termination of pregnancy) had the results been unfavourable. It was just excruciatingly tormenting!

Then one day, out of the blue, I received a phone call from the doctor while I was still in a meeting.

As I excused myself from the board room, Dr Ah-Chai started off the conversation on how I was in the high-risk group. He then continued on explaining the numbers and how that relates to the risk, how my age can be a factor, how I stacked up against other women my age group and how it would impact on the test results. 

At this point, my heart started palpitating again and I swear he was just prepping me up for the kill. Instead of giving me the results, he then rattled on the risk and a 2% chance of my baby being Down. 

I remembered telling myself, “OMG! He IS going to tell me that I am in that 2%, isn’t he?”

So I let him went on, about ready to piss in my pants and burst into tears as I waited on the other end of the line for him to deliver his final blow. Of which, he ended by saying, “ I strongly recommend you to go for Amniocentesis!”

That was when I got confused, and said, "But Doc, I already did the Amnio. You were the one who did it a few weeks ago. I am waiting for the results now”

He then replied, “Oh? Really? But I don’t have your report here…oh wait! The nurse just came in with your results. I had the wrong one. Hold on. “

He made me wait for another 10 seconds which seemed like eternity before her said, 

“Congratulations! Everything is fine . Your test results looks good. Nothing to worry about!”

Of which, I immediately let out a huge sigh of relief. I then asked him again if he had the right report and practically bombarded him over and over and over again if he was sure that everything was fine before we ended the conversation.

He reassured me that the test came out negative, and with Amnio, one can be really certain that all chromosomal disorders, including Down Syndrome,  trisomy 13, trisomy 18, and sex chromosome abnormalities (such as Turner syndrome and Klinefelter syndrome) can be detected with >99% accuracy. (Although I wasn’t sure if my test was only for Down)

While it was a huge load off my shoulders, I cannot believe that my doctor can be such a doof-head sometimes! I was thinking perhaps he could do with a course on how not to deliver any news by emphasizing on risks and the chance of it happening and actually letting his patient believe that he was about to deliver bad news.

Talking about the doctor being a bit of a doof-head, while we always make it a point to remind him that we don’t want to know the gender whenever he did an ultrasound scan,  he also had accidentally let us know the gender of our baby at our next check-up . This time, he had absent-mindedly flashed the results of the Amniocentesis test on his computer screen to us while he picked up a call from his mobile.

I have always preferred not to know the gender, wanting it to be a surprise just like we had with Spud. Hence, I was beyond bummed when my eyes caught sight of the gender, and when we told him that we did not want to know, his reply was, “Oh! I’m sorry. It happens!”

Of which, came my reply, “I don’t want to knooooooooowwwwwwwwwwww!!!! “

Gahhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So there you go. An extremely amiable and very decent doctor, but just a little bit of a doof-head.

The story of my life - I guess, nothing beats the spices being littered in every now and then to make it allthe more exciting!

Times like these

"Times like this

And times like those

What will be, will be

And, so it goes

And it always goes on and on...

On and on it goes

But somehow I know, it won't be the same

Somehow I know it will never be the same"

- Jack Johnson: Times Like These- 

I'm feeling a little sentimental..and a little overwhelmed...and this song, has, quite aptly too, been playing in my head all day.

It's  a beautiful song,  this. It is one of my favourites. And I love Jack Johnson's soothing, soulful voice. It is calming.

Enjoy!

Funnies

Another one of those sillyness I just have to share!

21 Days

Today is one of those days when I feel like a zombie personified.

Although I have pretty much been “sitting around just breastfeeding” all day, round the clock with no immediate obligation to cook or clean or pulling my weight around the house, I’m feeling absofuckinlutesupremely exhausted. 

At this point, my state of well-being has been severely compromised after enduring 3 weeks of broken sleep and 3 consecutive days of being woken up almost hourly for a night feed and tending to Squirt who is showing no signs of sleeping through more than 2 hours at night. On top of that, Squirt has also been fussing quite a bit in the last few days, and could not settle as easily. 

I think the hospital messed up – did they not get my instructions that they ought to be giving me (a) a less cranky baby and( b) one that sleeps 4-5 straight hours at night (c)one who does not need the boobs every half hour?

Times like this, I feel like throwing in the towel. Unfortunately, THAT, we know is not an option. I signed up for this (what was I thinking?!) and, crap!  It is not like I can return the baby back to the sender!  

My saving grace at this point is the fact that my parents are currently in town, and I am thankful for that extra pair of hands around the house.

Squirt and Nya-yi (Grandma)

On top of that, my ever-patient mom has been a great help to have around. Not only does she have a knack for calming down babies and take over from me before I go bonkers, we also get to eat freshly made, yummy home-cooked food. 

So yes, our household has been a little bit more than crazy these days with not only Squirt’s erratic feeding and sleeping schedule, but with Spud’s earth-shattering wails and temper tantrums almost throughout the day as well. 

We’ve got to remind ourselves that  “This too, shall soon pass.”  (I'm covering my ears now going la...la...la...la..la)

Somehow, that seems to be the mantra we live by these days…5 bloody "magic" words to get us by. (I'm really looking forward to the day when we can look back and laugh about this)

Now, darling Squirt, can you please, please, please be kind tonight and sleep at least 3-4 hours at a stretch so your parents can at least have some decent shut-eye.

Jealousy & Rejection

There has been a sense of jealousy looming in our household of late…something which we have come to expect from our dear Spud sooner or later.

The strange thing is though; it is not a full-blown jealousy. It is none of that pushing Squirt away or trying to hurt him in any way. In fact, despite being apprehensive about Squirt initially, Spud has been somewhat welcoming towards Squirt.  She is always asking for “Baby Brother”, willing to help me fetch stuff pertaining to her baby brother when I ask her to, and most of all, always willing to give him kisses and hugs.

Where the jealousy lies, I think, is likely to be the fact that she sees how much Squirt is being held by me, mostly because Squirt’s pretty much stapled to my boobs throughout the day. While she does not seem to mind it very much when it comes to me handling Squirt, it is a different story all together when she sees Silver Bullet or even our Nanny holding Spud.

It’s like we pushed her button, and immediately she would start her theatrics. She would almost instantaneously get all wound-up, starts to whine-wail, and persisting to be carried all the time. And for some reason, she would turn into this sudden clutz - falling down or trips over something, or hit herself on the table or whatever it is that she does – and then suddenly those “accidents” give her a legitimate reason to cry her guts out for what seems like hours on end. Suddenly, everything else is wrong by her decree and nothing, and I really mean NOTHING can calm her down as she goes on a wailing temper tantrum rampage.  

I almost hate it when she has one of those “accidents” , as not only it will bring about a prolonged bout of high octave wails, but it bums me that Spud prefers to run to her Papa all of the time, even though I am the nearest adult to her when it happens.  These days since I have been home and when Silver Bullet is not around, she literally runs to her Nanny when she wants to seek for comfort. 

The thing with Spud is, the softer you go in trying to console her, the louder and more defiant she gets.  And it could take us up to 2 hours just to get her to calm down - something which I obviously do not have the patience for. And, we have learnt the hard way that with Spud, you just cannot give in. You have to be calm and firm, and no giving in to her whims.

As it stands, Spud has single-handedly ranked me as the least favourite adult in the household; and this is especially hard to swallow since the rejection episodes she pulled on me not too long ago.

Granted, with us both being working parents, and apart from the fact that I don’t usually give in to her when she throws her temper tantrums,  we both spend an almost equal amount of time with Spud.

Now, more than ever, we both consciously focus our attention on Spud whenever Squirt is around. 

Plus, we also tend to google more on problems pertaining to issues with Spud rather than being concern about a newborn in the family!

I don’t know what it is with Spud, but I really do dislike the fact that the recovery process from the C-Section makes me feel even more useless. It makes me feel bad enough that I can’t carry her for at least another 1-2 months (and I haven’t been carrying her since I was 38 weeks pregnant) and it sucks even more that I apparently can’t even be the one to console her when things gets a little rough for her.

I love Spud with all my heart, and I can’t lie when I say that it hurts when she starts wailing , “nanny, nanny, nanny. Mama no. Mama no. Nanny carry” when she gets into one of those inconsolable wailing bouts.

They all say it is a phase, and by God! I truly hope it is as I have no other sources of intelligence to help me rectify the issues apart from riding it out.

It has been quite emotionally and mentally draining, and while I did not have any post-partum depression this time round, I reckon Spud will be capable enough to make me commit myself to a mental institution or seek psychiatric help if she carries on like this.

I guess it is true when they say that parenthood is a lot easier to get into than out of and I am very aware that you just cannot quit on your child. That being said, I realize more than ever that I have a lot of disciplining to do; mainly disciplining myself first  to not get upset about it, and respond rather than react to her temper tantrums – if that make sense at all. 

I’m still learning the art of parenting, and I can only hope that things get better. I'm sure I am not the only one dealing with a child who happens to have some "issues".

How and when to discipline

Since writing the post on “Disciplining other people’s kids”, I have been quite curious on what is the general take on this, and so, I began trawling the internet for the “word out there”.

It does not surprise me that with most topics like crying it out vs no crying or feeding on demand or baby-led feeding, this topic too, has two distinct camp. One article, an opinion piece by a certain developmental psychologist, even stated the following, “Two basic rules to live by when it comes to other people's kids: Never tell another parent how she should raise her child, and never discipline a child who's not your own. Parents have their own way of addressing their child's behavior, and though you may wish wholeheartedly that the other parent would rein in her child more firmly, it's not your call” (Source: Babycentre.com)

Do I agree with that? Well, to a certain extent – for I don’t think it is my place to tell anyone how they should raise their child. However, as I mentioned before, if the need arises, I have no problems letting the kid know that they have crossed the line. 

I then stumbled upon another blog post from a parent on how he would handle it and I found myself agreeing whole-heartedly with his techniques. Given his flawless writing and the fact that I I would actually emulate the same technique as he described, I have shamelessly do a cut and paste a portion of his post below: 

Strike One.  You just saw some kid attack your child – or maybe your kid came to you crying and saying something happened, but you’re not 100% sure what really went down.  OK, fine.  Comfort your kid and tell him that the offending behavior is wrong.  Leave it at that.  Give everyone the benefit of the doubt, because everyone’s kids misbehave sometimes.  But from that moment on, watch the other kid closely.

Strike Two.  Now you know exactly what happened, because you had your eye on the bad kid, and you saw him do it.  Now, your focus shifts to his caregiver.  Make sure she or he knows what’s going on without confronting them directly.  Again, give them the benefit of the doubt.  Maybe they didn’t see it happen and they just need your cue to step in and discipline the kid.

Here’s what you do: comfort your kid again, but do it louder.  First, validate your own kid: “Yes, he pushed you.  I saw it.  That was not acceptable.”  Make sure the bad kid and his guardian hear you.  Give the guardian a chance discipline her kid, and if she’s any kind of parent, she’ll be embarrassed and she’ll apologize profusely.

Now you’re watching the kid and the guardian very closely.

Strike Three.  By now, either the guardian has reprimanded the kid appropriately or he hasn’t.  But the kid did it again.  This is where you address the kid directly.  Act as if he were your child.  Be firm, but don’t shout.  “Don’t hit!  Do you understand?  Say you’re sorry.”  The kid will probably be shocked, because no one’s ever talked to him that way before.  You may even make him cry.  (Good!  That’s a sign that he never hears “no”, and you got to be the one to introduce him.  Bravo.)

At this point, don’t make any excuses for the other parent.  Maybe they weren’t paying attention and missed the behavior yet again.  Well, too bad.  They know there’s an issue, so they should be watching their kid closely.  If they’re not, you have every right to handle the situation yourself.

Strike Four.  Tell the other parent to leave.  Their kid is out of control and needs to be removed from the situation.  If you’re at a place of business like an indoor playroom, speak to the manager.

If the other parent refuses to leave and the manager does nothing, then you leave.  Tell your children clearly, “I’m sorry we have to go.  You haven’t done anything wrong, but that other kid is out of control, and I don’t want you around him.”  Don’t wait for a strike five.

I know in baseball, you only get three strikes, but what can I say?  I’m nice.

Does that sound harsh?  It shouldn’t, because here’s how I think you should handle it if your kid is the aggressor:

Strike One.  Let’s say that you didn’t witness the action first-hand, but your kid is standing over some other kid who’s crying and all evidence suggests your kid just did something bad.  Ask your kid what happened, and whether they confess or not, remind them, without directly accusing them, “It’s not OK to hit or push.”  Then, keep your eye on your kid.

Strike Two.  Now you know what your kid is up to, because you were watching your kid closely.  It’s your job to take control of the situation.  Pull your kid away.  Tell him you saw what he did, and it was wrong.  Make him apologize to the other kid.  Then, apologize to the other parent yourself.  Don’t make excuses, don’t assure them that your kid never does that sort of thing.  Everybody’s kid does bad things sometimes.  Your actions at this point will do a lot more to vouch for your parenting than your excuses.

Strike Three.  Repeat step two, but more firmly.  Remove your kid from the area for a serious talk.  If he seems contrite, let him know he only has one more chance.  If he can’t behave himself, you’re going to leave.  (If your kid is uncooperative, don’t even give him another chance.  Just leave.  You know when your kid is out of control, so react appropriately.)

Strike Four.  Leave.  Make sure you apologize to the other parent(s) on the way out.  Let your child know that he’s behaving inappropriately and that’s why you have to go.

His original piece can be found here.Certainly worth a read, in my opinion. (And I do think he has a really cool blog content)

Granted, kids misbehave and as parents, I believe it is our duty to tell them (or chide when necessary) on what  is an acceptable behaviour and what is not.This should also transcend beyond the "face saving ethics" so widely practiced within the Asian culture. Disciplining should not be about the grace of "saving face" (i.e. because if you do so, you will embarass me), rather it should be about a specific behaviour that needs to be corrected to minimize the risk of being a nuisance to the society at large.

After all, (most of the time) our kids are the by-product of our values and upbringing, don't they?

Juice Box Holder

This has gotta be one of the best invention of all times for little toddlers learning to drink from a packet:

I do believe most of you readers out there are smarter than I am and could figure out what that blue box thingie is for. But if there are a handful of you who are quite clueless and ignorant like me when I first encountered this thing, I had a hard time figuring out its use; simply because it is not something I have seen in Asia!

So when Silver Bullet pointed out the use to me when we were in Holland, only then I realised that this box is god-sent! It literally solves the problem of little hands squeezing the juice container and the juice squirting all over.

Not that we give Spud a lot of those fruity-sweet fruit juices as she pretty much prefers water more than anything else, but when we occasionally do, I swear by this box. It is a great thing to have.

Unfortunately, it is not something I have so far, seen this being sold anywhere in Bangkok.

Khao Niao Monster

One of the more fool-proof, sure-fire ways of getting Spud to eat her meals without fuss is to feed her Khao Niao, otherwise known as Sticky or Glutinous rice, a staple in the Thai diet.

We have never introduced Spud to sticky rice before, and it is not something we feed ourselves regularly with – if ever. And so, it came as a surprise to us as to how she has grown to like it, and even to the extent of asking for it. 

It turns out that a few months ago, our Nanny shared that she sometimes had to feed Spud her own lunch, mainly because Spud has been very being difficult with food and refusing the food which I prepared for her. 

Hence, out of desperation, our Nanny has actually offered Spud some of her own Khao Niaos.  Since then Spud has fallen in love with it. She likes it so much that she would actually be asking for sticky rice by saying “want shhhtickey rice” whenever we ask what she prefers for her meals. 

When all else fails when it comes to getting Spud to eat her meals, plain white rice of a pack of sticky rice with some fried chicken to go along with it would usually do the trick.  We also realized that she eats better when we give her a choice of food – be it for breakfast, lunch or dinner. 

Somehow it works; although it usually takes us about an hour to feed her. 

Given her unusual liking for sticky rice, I now have (sometimes) resorted to buying her a few packs of sticky rice from the street stalls over the weekend as a back-up in case she refuses the food we have prepared for her.

Good thing that a pack of those usually costs no more than 20 or 30 baht! Those sticky rice can be quite a pain in the butt to make.

Rolling it with #2

We have been home for almost 2 weeks now – 11 days to be exact, and our first week has somewhat been a little manic as we try to make sense of things going on around us. 

While Squirt has pretty much managed to sleep all day for the first 2 days when we brought him home, come Day 4, he changed his routine. Squirt decided that he would wake up hour upon hour for a feed from 11 pm onwards. He did not stop his feeding frenzy till about 6.30 am in the morning. He then slept all day and it was impossible to wake him up from his slumber in the day. Grrrrrr….

On Day 5, he woke up at 2.30 am for a feed. And then he wet his diaper and needed a change. He then decided that he would want another feed again. He then had the hiccups as he was about to fall asleep, which annoyed the crap out of him. This was followed by a wail, and another round of a short feed seemed to stop his hiccup. And then he pooed.  In fact, he pooed 2-3x within a couple of hours that night and, after every poo, he wanted to be fed again. He pretty much kept us up till 6.30 am. By the time he was fast asleep, Spud was ready to start her day!

And what a start of our day that was as Spud also decided to throw us one of her biggest temper tantrums for a good part of the morning. The icing on the cake comes from Spud attempting yet again to play favourite to Silver Bullet for the rest of the day. 

By the end of last week, there were 2 very weary and sleep deprived parents.

This week, Silver Bullet went back to work for the first time in a week since Squirt was born.  Being in recovery, my movement is still pretty much restricted.  I have become quite dependent on the Nanny to help around the house. It was my first week “alone” with a 22 month old toddler and a 14-day old new born…

The first 2 days without Silver Bullet had seemed peaceful - I even managed a 2 hour nap in the afternoon when the kids were asleep. 

And then…all hell broke loose.

From a sleeping baby, Squirt decides that he was going to stay on my boobs every half an hour. The moment I put him down, he cried bloody murder! I blame it on his first bouts of growth spurt which tends to happen when a baby is about 7-10 days old. Hence, Squirt has been pretty much stapled to my boobs round the clock in the last couple of days…

…which did not help matters with Spud as she feels that it is in her birth right to be ultra-whiny as well.  Whenever she sees Squirt cries, she cries her most annoying whiny cries and then runs up to the Nanny asking to be carried. 

Spud has certainly been acting up to say the least. She’s in full-swing to touch everything she knows she isn’t allowed to touch. She whinged, wailed and cried bloody murder each time we take the item in question away from her. She yells and screams and shouts at the highest octave when she does not get her way (the Nanny tends to give in to her a lot).  She’s showing signs that she is about to embark on a “No-vote Mama” campaign because she can. She’s hell-bent on playing with Squirt’s newborn-sized nappy and trying to put it on herself.  She’s obsessive about washing her hands and using the hand sanitizer like 5x within the hour. (The last 2 quirks she has while does sound funny on the hindsight, can actually be quite annoying!)

Needless to say, Spud continues to push my buttons whenever she can. She pushes and she pushes and she pushes. There has been lots of crying happening from her, and when pushed to the brink, me.  I try to ignore it when she acts up, but really, this daughter of mine is driving me absolutely bonkers with her antics!

My saving grace is that my morning can be quite peaceful with just Squirt around when Spud’s being shipped off to school. 

In the recent days, I have also observed that Spud seems to be more pleasant when she comes home from school, as opposed to days when she is at home the whole time. That being said, it also convinces me that Spud should also start going to school 5 days a week instead of the 3-day week she is currently doing right now! (Hello, 5-day school week!)

So these few days, I have been silently wishing and praying and hoping …

That Squirt will cut me some slack (please, please, please be just a tad chill-out and not be a monster)

That Squirt will get into a routine quickly (his sleeping habits, especially at night is still a little erratic)

That Squirt will have his father’s personality traits (the world would be a better place with more of Silver Bullet around – trust me on this one!)

…just so that I have the strength to deal with Spud as she can take quite a toll on my emotional well-being!  

Although,  knowing my luck and how it has always been , I don’t count on it being so easy from here on. Still one can always hope. 

"Insanity is hereditary - you get it from your kids"

-Sam Levinson-

My not-so-amazing birth story

We arrived at the hospital bright and early on the D-DAY, at 7 am on the 1^st June 2012.

This time, all seemed relaxed, calm and orderly. There was no rush to it and I was prepped up pretty well.  Most important of all, I was not doped up out of my head. I was lucid throughout the entire process and this time round, I did not fight with the Anesthetician. :)

In fact, I had one of the most experienced Anesthetician on board (she is 74 years old! When she told us her age, I had a mental image of shivering hands trying to administer epidural on me on my spine and missing the mark!). She was gentle, kind, reassuring and despite her age, still extremely alert, chatty and lucid. She took the time to explain what she was going to do and how it would make me feel. Most of all, she very kindly accommodated to my request of wanting to have Silver Bullet around with me for the entire procedure. Having Silver Bullet with me the entire time was one huge comfort factor to calm my nerves whilst at the operating table – particularly at the point of when she was administering the epidural. 

In no time at all, Dr. Ah-Chai walked in, worked on me and pulled Squirt out.  I was done in no more than 40 minutes before they isolated me into the recovery room for 2 hours. I like the fact that I was completely lucid and alert the entire time, and none of that doped-up feeling nonsense.

The only difference this time was that I barely held Squirt after they pulled him out. And that was only for a few mandatory after-delivery pictures.

After about half an hour of being isolated in the recovery room, I started breaking out in sweat and was feeling so nauseated that I was throwing up almost all of the time – rendering me useless to hold Squirt for his first breastfeeding session while in isolation.

The nausea and vomiting lasted for at least 2 more hours after that; an apparent side effect from the anesthesia. The sweating thing continued for a good 3 days - they came in super hot flushes, especially at night. All I know was that 2 drops of morphine was being used in the epidural and that had caused the side-effects.  The dizziness lasted for at least another day.  All of which I did not experienced in the last C-Sect.

What was different this time round however, was the fact that I regained the feeling to my legs a few hours after the surgery. In the last C-Sect, the feeling in my legs had only returned the next day.  By about 3 pm that same day, I was not feeling any sort of excruciating pain and could also lift myself up in bed – something which I was not able to do in the last surgery, at least not until a few days later.

The IV Drip and the catheter were both removed by noon the next day and within the hour after that, something amazing happened. Despite being a little dizzy still, I could actually move myself from the bed, put both my feet down on the floor and walked that first few crucial steps to the bathroom!

I was beyond relief! What was great about it this time was that before the end of the day, I was already able to walk very, very slowly to the nursery which was about 10-20 meters away from my room.  Quite a feat considering I’ve been cut opened at the abdomen 30 hours prior!

I probably was walking at one-step-a minute-at-a-time, but hey! This was definitely and considerably better than my last C-Sect experience 2 years ago.

4 days after the operation later on a Monday, I was ready to be discharged. And by Monday 4.30 pm, we all went home, with a new baby in tow. 

It has to be said that my experiences with both C-Sects have been on two extremes. Granted, had I not have had such a traumatic experiencewith C-Sect before, I think I would not have believed that recovery would have been so difficult and hard if I were to base it on this experience alone. If it weren’t for my previous experience, I too, would also likely to believe that those who said they a were not able to get on their feet 3 days after the surgery would have been just an exaggeration.

I don’t know what it was that made such a stark difference. The only thing I could think of was the fact that I was a little bit well-prepared mentally and relaxed. On the hindsight, the type of anesthesia used could also play a very important factor as to how the whole thing played out. Who knows!

In any case, everything turned out well. And that, my friends, has been my not-so-amazing-birth-story of all time. 

No going ooooh..and…ahhh of how beautiful it was to have the perfect and beautiful birthing experience. Mine was just straight-off clinical and actually, I’m not so sure if I would even call it birth. Truthfully, it seemed more like an “extraction” of a baby than anything else. 

Whatever that was, it doesn’t matter to me. Whatever the metaphor that was used, birth via cesarean  marks the beginning of a new life.

I am cynical and,  at this point,  I am not actually looking forward to the first 6 months where we’ll yet again be subjected to a whole new world of unpredictability, trying to establish some  routine, breast-feeding, pumping milk, controlled crying, sleep training…and whatever else that comes with it.

Double the joy, double the chaos. Wish us luck.

Never Give Up

This one here cracks me up!

Being Unpregnant: The Exit Strategy

You know, every so often, you would hear other women – be it your cousin, that woman behind the reception, your ex-classmate, your neighbour or your friend's friend, having their version of an “amazing birth story” to tell?

Well, you see, I am not one of those and I have absolutely none of those amazing crap to tell!

While I was somewhat hoping for a natural delivery this time round, I was also not very adamant about it. With my previous C-Sect history, I felt that the only thing I could do is be realistic about it. In fact, I was honestly not even sure if VBAC was the right option for me.

Given that I had no prior experience to having a natural birth before, I was also very aware of the potential risks and complications that could occur – in my case, natural birthing is the devil I never knew. 

On the other hand, I was also dreading having to go through another procedure of a Caesarean Section as I was only too aware of the aftermath of it. I was certainly not looking forward to another bad experience of being completely disorientated, drugged out and clamber out from a very painful and slow recovery process. 

I find it almost ridiculous and even stressful to impose Squirt’s exit strategy on me (I know, I know..bear with me on this one) If there is an option of having to vomit the baby out, I think I would rather do that.

While minor cramps and random contractions started when I was about 38 weeks, they were all just a tease. I was not showing any signs that real labour was imminent at all. My doctor, Ah-Chai, was kind enough to advise that I should wait up to 40 weeks (and not more than 41) to give it some more time.

In fact, at 40 weeks on my last check-up, my doctor revealed that my cervix was still tightly closed.

The baby was not engaged and I would have to give it at least another week to see if my cervix would have ripened by then.

With such a situation presented to me, we then thought that we'll wait it out for a couple more days but still schedule in a date for a C-Sect to be done.

2 nights passed, and still nothing happened. Somehow,  deep in my heart, I felt that scheduling for a C-Sect was the right thing to do.

It was not a case of “I’m done being pregnant” like last time, rather, it was more that I did not want to have to go through days and days of passive labour, being induced and then only to arrive at the conclusion that I needed an emergency c-sect at the end of it all.

While I know that every pregnancy can be different, I was also not counting on my body co-operating very well. At 40 weeks, it was showing signs that history was likely to repeat itself.

One thing for sure, I did not want to end the pregnancy with a post-partum blues. I wanted to save my sanity. A natural birth is not a be all, end all. While I am an advocate of most things being natural, and as much as I would like to pursue all things natural, I think I am more respectful of the fact that sometimes, intervention is necessary to minimize potential complications.

So having been at the end of the line, I made a decision to go for an elective c-sect.

I have been told by a few women acquaintances this, “Every women needs to experience labour pain and child birth. Your body knows what it is doing, so don’t always believe what the doctor says!”.

Truly, I thought that was a rather unfair statement to make., especially the bit about experiencing labour pain and child birth. Maybe there is no need to have to go through such pain. Not all women are made equal; some are just lucky to have it naturally, and in my case, not so much especially so if my body decides not to co-operate.

Regardless of the “exit strategy” one undertakes for a child to be delivered into this world, what matter most is that both mother and child are both healthy. That in itself is already a call for celebration.

In a way, I also cannot imagine myself being pregnant for another week longer! And, for me, given the circumstances, going for C-Sect seemed like it was the right thing to do.

My not-so-amazing-birth story coming up in the next few days to come link here.

Twins 2 years apart!

I am amazed at how similar both Spud and Squirt look at birth. It almost seems like they are identical twins, born only (almost!) 2 years apart. The resemblance is uncanny.

I just had to fish out a few pictures to illustrate this and put them side by side:

Isn’t it just amazing?

One could have sworn that both pictures have got the same baby, but trust me on this one – one is Spud and the other is Squirt.

Can you guess which is who?

22 months update

Spud’s been promoted!

At 22 months, she has clinched herself a title of being The Big Sister to Squirt. How is she faring so far?

Well, to be fair, it has only been a few days since we got home. And so far, Spud has not really shown any signs of rejection towards Squirt. In fact, Spud appears to have been accepting of Squirt, acknowledging him as “Baby Brother” and giving him kisses every now and again.

We try to maintain her normal routine as much as possible, but we also know that she perhaps sense some things are a little bit “off”.  (Like how come both her parents are home for the whole day?!). She has also been a lot more whiney than her usual whiney self. And honestly, I am not sure if she is crying out for attention more than anything else, or if her (new) teeth are bothering her.

Apart from that, Spud’s vocabulary continues to explode, along with her insatiable curiosity and strong opinions which currently create some challenges and more than a little drama.

It will be interesting to see how she further develops as more drama unfold right before my eyes as I temporarily relinquish myself off the corporate world to be a temporary stay-home mom for the next 3 months.

Pregnant 2nd time round

My being pregnant for the second time round was never intended to be a big, fat secret even though I have never broached up the subject in my blog.

Rather, my reason(s) for not mentioning anything about it is largely because of my entire personal sentiments towards pregnancy and being pregnant – something which I wrote about a couple of years ago following Spud’s arrival.

My thoughts about it haven’t changed since. (The post can be found here.)

The second pregnancy was of course, not without worries. This time round, we were saddled with a real fear of me carrying a Down baby. The odds from the initial blood test were worrying enough to warrant an amniocentesis test. It was not the most fun period, and the way the result was delivered to me almost made me piss in my pants - a story for another post. 

While my second pregnancy was quite different from the first one, I still say that there is nothing enjoyable about being pregnant. I suffered from almost similar side effects, and I never have actually enjoyed my entire pregnancy – both first and second time. The only main differences I can remember were these: 

• I was throwing up several times a day, every day,right up to the 7^th  – 8^th  month of my pregnancy
• I had the most atrocious sciatic nerve pain for most part of the pregnancy
• I was craving for more sour food. The more sour it is, the more I want it!I lived for sour stuff.
• I REJECTED chocolates! In fact, I did not care for it – which essentially is pretty weird considering what a chocoholic I have always been 
•  I did not have that much appetite for food – any kind of food. As a result, I did not put on as much weight as I did with my first pregnancy (hurray!)
• I only wanted Coke/Pepsi or Ginger Ale – beverages which I have given up a long while back and in the case of Ginger Ale, something which I don’t usually care about.  The craving was intense, especially at breakfast! 
•  I did not have very much patience (or faith!) in people and fellow human beings
• I, however, did not have super major case of water retention like I did previously. In fact, I did not even swell up and I am able to still wear both my wedding and engagement ring right up to the day.

Being pregnant is a strange thing. To this day, I don’t quite understand how so many women had claimed that they enjoyed their pregnancy. I am certain that those statistics does not include me as I stayed uncomfortably pregnant throughout the entire time. 

This was me at 39+ weeks- and not looking very glam.

In any case, all things considered, everything had gone well this time round. In fact, way beyond my expectation -  and this was right up to the day when I was discharged from the hospital. 

All in all, I am just glad that this being pregnant thing is officially over. In fact, I am quite relieved that this is something which I don’t have to go through again in the years to come. Ever. 

As I have said before, I.AM.DONE. 

The only thing I will miss though will be the regular foot rubs emphatically administered by Silver Bullet almost every day.  I don’t really have any excuses to get foot rubs from him now that Squirt is out. Heh!

More stories and pictures from the recent days coming this way!

Made in Thailand II

World, meet Squirt.

Squirt, meet the rest of the world!

Squirt actually did come as a little bit of an early surprise for us, even though we did think about #2 when we decided to have  Spud almost 2 years ago. 

 Squirt was delivered into this world on the 1st of June weighing in at 3.6 kg, at slightly after 10 am; and indeed, a little "over baked" at 40+ weeks. (I guess my womb must have been really comfortable, for, both babies had refused to come out on time!).

I mentioned before fleetingly that with Spud around, we don't really need a boy. And now that Squirt turns out to be a boy, I reckon our household is going to be a really chaotic and a noisy one.

Regardless,  I feel blessed. We couldn't have asked for more as we even out with a girl and a boy  (well done Silver Bullet's boys!). With that, my baby-making factory is now officially closed. 

As Spud would have said it, "no more!".

Stay tuned for more stories of our crazier life. 

Little Gruffalo

So I did it!

I don't know what came over me, but I did it. After thinking about whether or not I should sucuumb to my temptation in the last half year since the Gruffalo video, I finally bought the darn Gruffalo soft toy online for £9.99 (total about £15 with courier charges) without as much as a 5-seconds deliberation this time. 

It was delivered in a mint condition within 2 weeks, and apparently all the way from Switrzerland (at least that was what postage indicated!). I am only a bit disappointed that 7" is actually quite tiny... oh well.

So here...TA-DA!

Ssshhhhhhhhhhhhh....Spud does not know about this yet! :D I really cannot wait to see her reaction when she sees this when we decide to give it to her later.

Isn't it amazing how this supposedly-ugly-beastly-looking creature can look oh-so-cute!