Once again, feel free to skip or skim through this post as it is primarily a post for myself more than for our readers.
The previous post concluded with our stay at the hospital and how appreciative and grateful we are to all the staff at Mt. Alvernia. I am truly glad that I chose this hospital to deliver my baby and honestly, I have nothing but praises for their professionalism and service.
Our first brave step into the outside world with XP took place on 18 April 2008, a Friday. Doppy drove the car round to the reception area to pick us up and by then, XP was beginning to make a fuss. The nursery nurse had accurately assessed that the thirsty little one would require his feed soon and looking at the two hapless parents, she took pity on us and gave us two bottles of formula milk to 'tide us through' in case we needed it.
Throughout the car journey, poor doppy oscillated between a F1 driver and an auntie driving on the left lane on the road. He accelerated in the hope that we could get home soon and attend to the WAILING baby and crawled along when I protest that his driving was throwing us around in the backseat and did not help my stitches a bit.
When we finally got home, the wailing did not stop. Given our very political family situations, we did not have anyone on stand-by at home. Twas just us with our helper, who was apprehensive about offering help due to our cultural differences. Our confinement lady would only arrive in another 3 hours or so and for the time being, we were left with a baby who was crying his lungs out and we had absolutely no idea what to do with him.
It took some detective work for us to figure out that he was crying because he was uncomfortable as he had pooped in his diapers. Now, prior to his arrival, yours truly, one of the most untidy person on earth, actually made an effort under the supervision of doppy and my friends to put away the baby's stuff neatly and ran through my checklist god knows how many times to ensure that I had acquire all the essential items. Inexplicably, when you had a crying baby in your room, a mother who could not move at will due to her operation, a helper who had trouble understanding what you want and a harassed father who was trying his damnest to calm the baby down, the things you need miraculously disappeared. We could not find the wet wipes we need to clean his bottom and resorted to using tissue paper. We could not find the diapers we bought and resorted to using the free sample packs that we collected from our antenatal classes and visits to the doc. Doppy was fearful of hurting the little one while he was changing him as he was still so soft and yet struggling with all his might against his dad. All I could do sitting by the side of the bed was to try to refrain from showing my impatience and kept on trying to encourage doppy by telling him that he was doing the right thing. After 10 minutes of struggle or so, we finally managed to changed his diapers and by then, the bed was strewn with things and the previously neatly packed room and cupboard were in disarray.
But the crying did not stop! Now that he was changed, he wanted to be fed. Remembering all my friends' and the lactation consultants' exhortations, I resolved to ignore his cries and took him into my arms in a bid to breastfeed him. All modesty was lost as I quickly pulled down my dress and with with one hand cradling him, I proceeded to massage my breast as the consultant had taught me. All this while, he was bawling his lungs out and his face was beginning to turn red. I grasped his head in my other hand, forcefully tilted his head, and jammed his head straight at my breast, all the while trying to put my nipple in his mouth. He was suffocated against my breast, and still his crying did not let up. His mouth was full with my boob in them, his nose was pressed against my flesh, his entire body was fighting to get away from me and still I refused to let go. I kept trying to have him latch on to my nipple, all the while chanting in my mind, he can survive 3 days without food and PJ and K said to be hardhearted and not to be affected by his crying. No babies have ever died from crying before and he won't be the first one.
But God, you had no idea how painful it is to watch this tiny precious thing fight against you with all his strength. His entire body was scrunched up in a ball as he gathered all his strength to push against me (and trust me, he was strong for a 5-day old baby), his entire body had turned red from his crying and what was even more heart-breaking was that we could hear his cries had changed in quality. He had run out of lung power to cry (by this time, he had been crying nonstop for almost an hour) and had resorted to using his vocal chords which were rapidly turning hoarse. Doppy was trying his hardest to be supportive of my breastfeeding effort but with the lack of an expert around to reassure us that it was fine, we both finally decided to feed him the formula milk that was given to us by the nurse.
By this time, doppy had received a call from our confinement lady informing him that she was already at the MRT station. You could not imagine our sense of relief. So while doppy was out getting her, I managed to cajole the baby by feeding him the formula milk. Yet the moment he finished, he started crying again. All this while, I was thinking, how long does it take for him to drive to the station and back? And at that instant, the door opened and to say that I looked upon our confinement lady as the saviour was an understatement.
Our confinement lady saw the distress we were in and immediately took charge of the situation and the wailing babe in my arms. Miraculously, the moment she carried him, he piped down and was lulled to sleep. She was really nice to us but commented that we need to be able to differentiate his cries and know which ones to ignore and which ones needed immediate attention. She said that his crying was excessive and was beginning to hurt him as his cries were turning hoarse. You had no idea how much guilt plagued doppy and I at that moment. For the rest of the day, we both wondered how much damage we did to our little tyke but not being able to meet his needs.
When we lay in bed later that night, we both started asking ourselves if we were fit to be parents. Doppy was feeling really useless ever since the confinement lady came since she took over everything and what was worse, she kept asking for things that we did not have - We bought too few mittens; the sleepsuits we had were too big for him; huh? you mean you did not have big towels that you could wrap him up with?; do you have baby lotion?; aiyoh ... this bottle is too big lah .. he could only drink from this when he's older ... you only have these two small ones ah?; hmmm ... we need to get a few more things leh .. etc etc. Doppy was sent to buy things on numerous occasions and still there were times when he bought the wrong items. Me? I felt like a complete failure as my milk refuses to flow and though the confinement lady was really supportive of breastfeeding and tried very hard to help XP latch on to my breast, inevitably he would break out in tears and start wailing his lungs out whenever I tried to let him suckle at my breast.
That night, we hugged each other and tried to console each other as much as we could. We both shed tears of frustration and helplessness and even more out of a sense of failure. We both want the best for XP but we were really clueless. We began to wonder, how will we be able to take care of him?
Thank goodness our confinement lady took care to reassure us that we were like this as it was our first child. XP is also slowly settling down under her expert care and I have tried to get my milk flow going by expressing my milk every 3 hours. Though there were times when I really feel like giving up, doppy's support and kind words kept me going. My entire life now revolves around when I need to express my milk and doppy has been woken up religiously at 4.30am each morning as I had to express my milk between 4-5am in the early morning.
Though the confinement lady and my helper are my life-savers, I honestly would not have been able to preserve my sanity and emotional well-being without doppy. Throughout these few days, he had been nothing but most obliging and gave nary a care to the monies he had been spending. A mere trip to the Chinese medicine hall to get the stuff to cook my confinement food set him back by $200. Diapers and milk powder for the little one another $100. A baby monitor and miscellaneous stuff another couple of hundreds. But it is not all about the monies. Those of you who know doppy would know that he was used to being waited on hand and foot by me. He nary had to care about household stuffs as I used to take care of them. Suddenly, overnight, he had to run the household as I was not up to it and to compound that, he had to live with 3 women and had the same food day in and day out. The house is like a stuffy greenhouse as I must avoid draughts and all the windows are kept tightly closed throughout the day. His only reprieve was when we go to bed cos that was when we could turn on the air-conditioner a little. But even then, he had to sleep next to a stinky meowme who was forbidden to bathe till she gets her clearance from the doc regarding her wound and had to contend with the low humming of the machine and the hissing of the breast pump at 4.30am every morning. Yet despite all these, when he had to make a trip to IMM on the second day to get more things for our little one, he took the trouble to buy me a diamond pendant to show his appreciation for me and encourage me on my breastmilk pumping efforts.
With such a loving husband and a strong and healthy son, what more can I ask for?
And so it is that I give thanks to the Lord for the two men He has given me and the blessings He has showered upon me. I have done absolutely nothing to deserve it but it is with His Grace and Love, that I am blessed with my husband and son.
Praise you Father Lord and with all my heart, I give thanks to you.
Amen.
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