The Arrival of Alexander Liew

As you all probably already know,

Baby Alexander Liew (a.k.a. Xander) has made his entrance into this world on 8 Dec 2010, Wednesday.

Stats:

52 cm long

3.175kg

1818hrs (AEST) / 1518hrs (SG)

Labour was long and difficult, but the end result made it all worthwhile :)

I've been wanting to write this birth story since Day 1, but had my hands full.

So here goes...

(warning: there might be too much information for some people in the birth story)

I had been in stop-start/spurious labour for 2 weeks already, and nothing real was happening.

As the EDD of 5 Dec came and went,

it started to get more and more frustrating,

not to mention that it got more and more tiring for me to deal with having painful contractions that lead to nothing,

and these mostly happened in the middle of the night.

On Tuesday morning at around 4plus am in the morning,

I started getting painful contractions in bed, and they were coming at regular 10 minute intervals.

Unfortunately, they died down to be less frequent and less regular during the day.

I resigned myself to another day of false labour.

While preparing dinner together with Jude,

they started up with increased frequency again, but I refused to look at the clock because that always makes me excited and leads to disappointment.

We had dinner amidst my contractions,

and Jude timed them at about 10 minutes apart based on when I would pause in my tracks while the pain passes.

That was about 6pm.

By about 8pm, they started getting more and more painful and more regular.

I could no longer sit and relax, and had to get up and paced the apartment like a prowling cat.

We waited till about midnight to call the hospital birth suites, and the midwife said we could go in and get checked if we want.

She said if they determine that it is not actual labour,

they'll just send us home again.

Heck, we had nothing to lose so we packed up all our last minute items in the hospital bag and headed out to the hospital.

I could still walk and talk through the contractions, so it wasn't that bad yet.

Now, on hindsight, I realise that it was very very early labour and we probably should have stayed home and get some more rest for the night.

On the 20 minute drive to the hospital,

I had about 4 or 5 contractions,

and I remember telling Jude that this had better be it.

That I'm not going home without a baby in my arms.

We got to the hospital around 12.30am and had to enter via the ER.

Went straight up to the birth suites where we got settled into the room for observation.

This meant about 3 hours of being strapped to the CTG machine which tracked baby's heartbeat and picked up my contractions.

At the same time, our assigned midwife sat by my side with her fingers on my tummy, feeling for the contractions, timing them and observing their intensity.

She was mean.

I did not like her one bit, but just wanted to get this over and done with.

She kept on saying that she doesn't believe I'm in labour.

Her words "I'm not convinced you're in labour. You need to convince me that you're really in labour or I'll send you home."

GAH.

Then she got all snotty with me and started saying how she's had 4 children and been a midwife for so long, she knows labour when she sees one and I'm not looking like it.

GAAAHHH.

But the contractions were getting more and more intense,

especially since I was confined to the bed on my back and couldn't walk around like I did at home to help with the contractions.

She went in and out of my room constantly with the "I can't believe I'm here, I just wanna go home and sleep" look on her face.

I remember telling Jude at one point when she left the room,

that all I need now is for my waters to break and then see what she says. HMPH.

And guess what?

Voila!

At 3.15am, after 2 super hard contractions and mindless kicking from the little one inside,

my waters broke with a gush.

I felt it and there was no doubt in my mind whatsoever.

It's like when we get our periods, and those first 2 days when we would get gushes that's out of control and makes you feel like you need to stand up if you're lying down so it doesn't leak out.

If you know what I mean.

I pressed the call button and told her when she came in that I felt a huge gush and I think my waters just broke.

She looked awfully skeptical and made me surrender the pad I was wearing for inspection.

She kept saying my bladder was probably full and I just peed in my pants.

Even though the fluid was a clear, odourless one, with a pink tinge on it.

I haven't seen broken waters before and I also know based on what I've read.

But she was like, we'll wait and see.

Can I say GAH again?

After that, each time I get a contraction and each time baby moves inside,

more gushed out.

It was the most uncomfortable feeling because I was sitting in my own waters in bed.

Grrr.

She refused to let me off the CTG machine and was still talking about how she was not convinced it's my waters and she'll probably be sending me home.

It took at least half an hour more of my waters gushing for her to finally be convinced.

But she didn't want to call my doctor to ask if I should be admitted until after 7am.

Probably cos it'll be shift change and she won't have to do any of the paperwork.

Bleah.

So we were left hanging in limbo in the room until past 7am,

trying to rest in between contractions,

and still stuck on the stupid machine and on the bed.

Finally shift change time came and a new midwife got assigned to us.

She was young and nice and patient and kind.

I liked her so much better.

She officially admitted me and said "well, looks like we're not going home without a baby today!"

We were so really relieved hearing that and finally could start psyching ourselves for labour and delivery.

My doctor was going to come by around 9plus in the morning to check how far along I was already,

so we waited and dealt with the contractions together.

I was convinced that my many days of spurious labour and contractions would have started the process and got me far along enough so I won't have long to go.

Alas, Dr R said I was only about 2cm dilated and not thinned out yet, so a long while to go yet.

But because my waters have already broken,

we are on a clock to have this baby within 24 hours to prevent infection from setting in.

Since it doesn't seem like I was going to be able to achieve that on my own,

he ordered an induction with syntocinon, which is an IV drug that artificially induces contractions.

And the dosage of the drug is doubled every half hour, making the contractions come even faster, harder and more painful than it would have on its own.

I hate IVs and needles, but we needed to get baby out so I agreed.

That was around 9.45am.

The drug started working almost immediately and the pains got worse by the minute.

My body didn't have the time to slowly get used to the pains, so it went into overdrive.

I was handling the pain my own way,

bouncing on the exercise ball they provided,

with Jude sitting in a chair behind me,

massaging my back and constantly reminding me that I needed to take deep breaths and he would tell me when the monitor shows the contractions peaking and subsiding.

That really really helped because I knew that it would be over soon.

But every half hour when the midwife came in and pressed the buttons on my IV to double the dosage,

I felt my sense of desperation double because I could not imagine how much more worse the pains had to get.

Finally around noon, I was reaching my threshold and the pains were as intense as can get.

I asked when my doctor was coming round to check me again,

and she said after lunch, around 1.30pm.

Then she proceeded to increase my dosage again.

At that point, I completely broke down.

I'm not ashamed to admit it,

but I really lost my plot.

Big fat tears came rolling,

I was sobbing,

I was convinced that I'm done and I can't deal with anymore of these hyper contractions.

My heart rate shot through the roof and my blood pressure went crazy.

Jude was doing everything within his power to keep me focused and keep me on track with what I'm doing,

but I started to retreat into my own world while trying to cope with the pain and nothing else mattered.

I was handling everything very well up until that point.

At that point, I could only think of the fact that I had more than an hour before Dr R was coming back,

which meant more than 30 contractions that were now coming 2 minutes apart, lasting 1 whole minute.

I couldn't take 1 more, let alone 30.

But we made it in the end and Dr R came around 1.30.

He checked me and said I'm thinned out now,

but still only 2cm.

I broke down even harder.

He said that I have no choice but to get an epidural,

because at that point,

only an epidural will help me dilate.

Without the epidural, we would be staring down the path of a c-section.

That was the last thing I wanted,

and I wanted the pain gone,

so I agreed.

I was still terrified of the needle going into my spine,

and I was terrified of the possible side effects of it,

but the contractions were too much to bear,

and any more of it would have killed me.

I think I calmed down a little after saying okay to the epidural,

because I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

But we had to wait 20 minutes for the anesthetist to arrive,

and in the meantime,

Dr R ordered an increased dosage of the syntocinon.

It almost drove me up the wall and I remember pleading with Jude and the midwife to turn the drip off until after I get the epidural.

But obviously my requests were denied.

So I continued sobbing my way through the contractions while asking when the anesthetist was gonna arrive.

When he finally got to me, I was completely exhausted and messed up already.

By this time, I had been awake for a full 26 or more hours and had been without sleep or rest.

We got the epidural line in at about 2.45pm and it needed 15 minutes to take effect.

Those 15 minutes felt like an eternity.

When it finally started working,

it took away most of the pain, but the back pain and intense pressure down below was not going away.

But I was satisfied with that at the time.

I managed to get about 30 min of rest,

before each contraction started to hurt really bad and wake me up each time I doze off.

I told Jude to let the midwife know,

cos I'm not supposed to be feeling these contractions and having to breathe through them.

She came in and said the epidural was not working for me,

she'll have to go get the anesthetist to come back and either re-adjust the line or increase the dosage.

They couldn't find him and she was rushing around trying her best to get a/any anesthetist available to come in and review my situation.

For a good hour or so, no one came.

I was stuck with an epidural up my spine which was not working.

I could still move my legs and feel the catheter and feel each contraction.

But I was stuck in bed and could not move to relief the pain.

It was the most intense feeling ever.

Some other anesthetist finally came by and started to increase my epidural dosage.

He ended up having to increase it twice.

He said it would take 15 minutes to take effect so he wait outside to make sure it all goes well.

Well, no relief came.

Instead the pain got worse and the pressure got more and more intense.

I realised that I was pushing involuntarily and I couldn't stop myself.

I remember telling Jude that I'm pushing and I can't stop.

He was like, okay so what should I do?

I said go tell someone!

He went out to let my midwife know and she came in telling me to breathe, don't push.

She did not have the authority to check me since I was a private patient,

so I had to keep dealing with the pain and the pressure while she tried to call Dr R to ask for instructions.

She finally came back and told me she'd check my tummy to see if she can feel baby's head.

She tried and tried but could not find baby's head.

Went out and got the midwife in charge who came in and checked me.

She said that baby's head was "right there" and we should be ready to push.

That was about 5pm.

Midwife said to Jude that this is the early pushing stage meant to get baby as far down as possible, so could take up to 2 hours or more.

So we started pushing, with just Jude as my coach and support person.

By 6pm, Dr R had arrived and I think I recall him saying that he can't believe I'm pushing already.

He was sure that he had to come back to do a c-section on me this evening based on my lack of progress at the afternoon check.

He got things set up,

gave me clear and firm instructions on how to push,

then made me start.

By this time,

I had been in labour for almost 24 hours and was running on an empty fuel tank without food, drinks or rest.

Pushing was the most gratifying thing to do,

cos at last I could do something about the pain instead of just tolerating it.

But I was so exhausted that whatever Dr R was demanding of me,

I just couldn't do it.

I tried my darnest that's for sure,

but things were just not moving fast enough and we needed baby out.

So I said ok to a vacuum-assisted delivery.

From then on,

all I remember was Dr R attaching the suction cup to baby's head,

me pushing with all my might,

and before I knew it,

Dr R was asking me to open my eyes and look.

I looked down and there he was....

his little head full of black hair was out and I watched as Dr R delivered his shoulders.

Then came the most amazing experience of my life...

Dr R told me to reach down and put my hands under baby's arms,

and pull him out onto my chest.

I did.

And it was incredible.

To be the person who brings him out to meet the world.

I just delivered my baby and I was the one to pull him out at the end.

Jude was asked to cut the cord but he refused.

Dr R said he never cuts the cords of the babies he delivers, daddy has to do it.

So Jude did and he didn't faint :)

I'm proud of that man...

Incredibly.

I saw in his eyes the amazement and wonder and awe and most importantly love, when he first laid eyes on the squirmy little baby on my chest.

we looked right at each other several times and one look said it all:

We did it. This is our child and he's perfect.

At the end of the day, did it matter that nothing went according to our birth plan?

Nope.

All that mattered was that Xander was here after alot of waiting and pining,

and he was healthy as can be.

Final belly pic at the hospital upon arrival - 40 weeks and 3 days

Newborn bright-eyed wonder

Little babushka

Delivery was tough.

It was the most intense experience of my life.

And I learned that as much as I like to be in control of how things pan out in my life, this is one thing that is beyond my control.

My body had its own plans and I had to surrender to it.

I sustained a 2nd degree tear and now have 6 stitches to show for it - 2 internal and 4 external ones.

They hurt like a b***h and makes it difficult for me to sit and breastfeed,

but I know in time to come,

they'll heal.

And they will not mar my memories of this birth experience one bit.

2 days after birth, Jude asked me about number 2.

I said sure :)

One day, we'll go through this all again, willingly and happily.

We'll give Xander a sibling.

But for now, we are basking in the glory and wonders and parenthood,

and enjoying every little moment of joy that this new little person is bringing to our lives.

I know deep in my heart that there was no way I could have gone through with this labour and delivery with a successful outcome without my lovely husband.

By the time Xander was born,

he had gone almost 40 hours without sleep,

and without much real sustenance.

He was there with me every single step of the way.

Even though we had a birth plan that included no drugs, no epidural and no delivery assistance,

he never once faltered in supporting me in whatever I decide.

I was incredibly disappointed when I found out we needed to induce my labour with drugs.

But he reminded me that it was what was required and we needed to get baby out.

When my strength faltered during contractions,

he reminded me of it, constantly whispering in my ear that I'm doing great, that I'm strong enough, that we're almost there.

When I was told the epidural was needed and I almost broke down,

he just said don't worry about it. All that matters is that I no longer am in such pain and we can have baby safely.

He held my hands tight when I was pushing and even after Dr R decided on the vacuum.

He said he was proud of me and my strength.

I felt validated, appreciated and loved at every single moment.

Because of the man my husband is.

And now, watching him interact with our son,

my heart swells.

The way he just spends time staring at him and marvelling at him convinces me that we've made something really special together.

Now that we're home,

he's still there with me every step of the way.

Cooking, cleaning, washing, feeding me when I'm stuck with a breastfeeding baby, running errands for me that I can't run, etc.

He's better than any confinement nanny there can ever be out there.

Xander was fussy last night and kept me up with feeding and changing him from midnight till past 4am.

I decided to deal with him in the living room, letting him settle on the rocker while I watched him and dozed on the sofa next to him.

And my man decided that we're in this together and he too camped out on the living room couch.

We're a unit and we're gonna make this work.

I love our little family.

I have a post in mind about my first few days into motherhood,

but it'll have to wait because a certain someone is demanding my attention.

Here are some photos to tide over my expected period of absenteeism.

getting ready for his first bath

brrr.... cold...

he's a water baby who loves the bath...

daddy's first time changing clothes for baby :)

he scratched his face :(

So darn cute... after feeding

the happy and proud papa

he loves him :)

heh!

mummy and baby

our little family of 3 :)

pose for the camera ;)

he's the cutest thing ;)

trying to open his eyes

he's got daddy's eye-shape

after feeding on the bed

nicely dressed up, ready to go home!

tiny baby in giant bed

that looks cosier :)

another one of his milk-induced coma

These are photos from his first 3 days of life...

more to come!