The day before our baby was due, I had a burst of energy and bought a few things with my husband to stock the fridge. I had this strange feeling of needing to pay my bills but decided against it. Should have gone with my gut feeling. The next day, I saw some bleeding. Oh boy. I had been having Braxton Hicks for a few nights since the last gynecologist appointment and it seemed that our daughter wanted to see the world before December. I called my husband first and he asked if I was in pain. I wasn’t feeling the contractions yet and told him to return home first. Tried calling my mother but her mobile was engaged. In the end, I called my father who drove from the other end of Singapore to our side. While waiting for both men to arrive, I was packing the hospital bag with final stuff. Eventually, they arrived and I went down to my father’s car. Luckily, I had charged my new portable battery charger the day I bought it.
The journey to the hospital was full of questions and some red lights. All the time, I was asked if I was alright. No contractions yet. Upon reaching, we asked the location of the delivery suites and went there since I was still able to walk. The nurse took charge and monitored my stomach for contractions after I changed into the gown that covered just the front. About 30 minutes later, she returned to check on my cervix to make sure that it was opened before she could admit me in and call my gynecologist. I was 1.5cm opened. Baby was coming into this world. Then, I was given something to move my bowels. That was a little painful and I was worried about popping before I was ready. When my gynecologist arrived, I was only 2cm dialated and the contractions were still 10 minutes apart. I was still able to enjoy laying down. That was when he put me on drip to hasten the contraction process. About 2 hours later, I was feeling worse as the contractions were getting close to 3 minutes apart. I was crying in pain and my husband helped to call the nurse who put a gas mask on me. I breathed fast but wasn’t supposed to. I was reminded by my husband who held the gas mask to breathe slow but the contractions were really painful and I asked for epidural. The nursed checked on my cervix but it was 7cm dialated. No more pain relief was available except for the gas. All I could think of was crap! I did push when the mother of all contractions hit me together with some crap. Told my husband I wanted to go to the toilet. My gynecologist had arrived by then. He had estimated that I would ne ready by 9pm but I was early. Things got real busy once I gave my first push with a cry. Was told not to waste my energy on crying. It wasn’t easy because of the pain but I managed. All the while, my husband was beside me rubbing my arm as I cringed in pain. The bed was converted into a delivery style quite fast and I was encouraged to push real long with my first push. No crowning as I didn’t hold my breath long enough. It wasn’t easy holding my thighs close to my body and still push with all my might. Two nurses helped and in the end, my gynecologist said he would help because our daughter had drunk her own poop. I was taking too long. It wasn’t good for her. Somehow, the sight of the forceps assured me and our daughter was finally born. I was relieved and hoped the placenta would be less painful and quick. Thankfully, it was fast. Our daughter was placed on me when her cord was cut. Husband didn’t have the honours, oh well. He gave me a kiss upon the arrival of our little girl. That was truly love. While waiting for my stitches to be done, my husband was busy answering messages and phone calls from both our fathers. He had to hold the oxygen mask for our daughter so that the nurse could prepare the essential tools to clear our daughter’s stomach of poop. I was guilty of not trying harder. I was given time to rest and not allowed to sit up as I had used the mask and just given birth. After some time, I was wheeled into a ward, I never took note of the ward number as I was too tired. Moving from bed to bed was draining and painful but I managed somehow. I started to feel cold for the first time after the birth. Even though it was nearly midnight, I still had visitors despite my husband telling his family that the visiting hours were over. My parents visited me in the morning. All I could do during the rest in the hospital was feed the baby and myself. All done rather painfully. Now, I’m feeling better because I just needed time to rest my wounds and body.
