The first month

A month later, I'm starting to realise how different second-time motherhood has been for me compared to when I had Dylan.

D's arrival startled me - not only because we realized how ill-prepared we were to deal with the "aftermath" - the night wakings, how a baby changes the dynamics in our marriage, the constant need for attention, the rocking and cuddling, and figuring out what the baby needs from his cries.

D's arrival startled me into wondering about life's starting point: if God made us to be eternal where was little D's starting point? How did we all begin?

He made me think deeply, and fear deeply, about my own mortality - that one day I won't be around anymore for him.

With Baby G, this time round, I read up more - a LOT MORE - to bump up our knowledge so we don't just rely on our experience alone.

I also learnt to pray - and to depend on God to guide and to provide where I feel my strength and wisdom is lacking, and to shape the character of this baby I'm only starting to get to know.

But altogether, second time round, D and G's well-being is topmost in my mind, and I find my concerns being far more prosaic, far less visceral and spiritual.

This time round, I made sure to go the full nine yards to get the best treatment - hence I hired a proper confinement nanny and a lady who came in for seven days to massage and jamu wrap me up!

The real reason, other than wanting to recover, is that this time, I'd like to give full breast-feeding a real shot. The last time round, I was just so exhausted and so insecure about my milk supply that I couldn't give Dylan the full benefits of being fully breastfed. This time, I am determined to make it work.

Now, in our 5th week of getting to know each other, little G and I are finally establishing a semblance of a routine. He's growing well. At this morning's check, our five-week old weighed in at a hefty 5.3kg and 56cm long. Not too bad!

Speaking with other moms and sharing stories about what is normal and what isn't also has helped ease a lot of my insecurities about full nursing.

For instance, not stressing out about how much milk I should be producing, and just letting baby latch for as long as he wants has helped.

I had forgotten if it was normal for babies to not poop for so many days is another example. G had been poop-less for four days (but he finally did the dirty today, thank God!).

He's also a very flatulent baby! For a breastfed baby he smells like he's had steak and french onion soup for dinner! Again, it seems G isn't alone is the stink department, going by the experience of other recent mommies. Phew... and Pew!

So many thanks to friends and family who's been giving us the support this time, especially as hubby's absence is much felt.

Here's a picture with A, my confinement nanny who's been responsible for cooking yummy and tonic food, and taking bathing, diaper changing and baby rocking out of my hands so that I can rest:


We brought D and G to my office to distribute cakes and tarts, and little D lent his weight in helping mommy prepare the gifts:


"Where do you want these labels to go again?"


Last night, we had a little Chen family celebration, and the little troopers all gathered to sing a birthday song for Gareth with a candle on yummy Durian mooncakes:


The star of the show, with Po Po:

Three weeks on.

Thanks to all our dear friends for the gifts and well-wishes! Hard to believe that in a week's time, our second bundle of joy will turn a full month old.

This mommy is feeling well-rested and rejuvenated, having been pampered in the last three weeks with post-natal massage, jamu wrap and yummy confinement food.

Same can't sadly be said for baby G. Even after a 3-day stay in KK's Nursery Ward 71 for intensive photo-therapy, and three weeks back at home on breastmilk supplemented with formula and a daily dose of morning sun, little G is still jaundiced. =(

Tomorrow will be his nth visit to the polyclinic to test for his serum bilirubin level. Poor little thing will get his heel pricked for the nth time to draw the blood out for the test, though our little trooper has not even winced each time.

Meantime, the brothers have been bonding a little bit. Gor gor D has shown some regression, throwing some baby-ish tantrums and such, but so far so good.

Here's a shot of the brothers bonding - well actually more like D looking amused while "di di" has his diapers changed:



A sleepy G after a feed taken just this afternoon with my Samsung Jet phone:

And then there were four.

From this:

To this:


It's been almost two weeks since baby GS Koh arrived, just three days after the Daddy made a surprise early flight back from Melbourne. As I'm posting this (much much belated!) blog entry I can't help but feel so very grateful to God, our friends and family.

So many prayers answered. A true testimony to how being specific in our prayer can be a powerful thing.

Answered Prayer #1: The timing of G's arrival couldn't have been better - have been praying hard that the husband will be back in time for the delivery, and indeed he was! In fact, E was so enthusiastic about documenting the delivery process for his medical school's PBL next year that he even asked me to smile as he whipped out his camera oblivious to the fact that I was lying on the delivery bed in the throes of a contraction!

Answered Prayer #2: In order to qualify for paid maternity leave, I had needed to be in active service for 90 days. Baby G arrived on Day 91.

Answered Prayer #3: We had prayed against the water bag rupturing, as it meant that I would have had to induce the labour with oxytoxin. I wanted to go through the stages of labour naturally, and know what contractions felt like. At 5am on 30 August, that's exactly what happened. By the time we got to the delivery ward at 7am, they came on fast and furious at 2-3 minutes apart, lasting each time for about a minute. Thankfully, I was only 3-4cm dilated.

Which means there was time for - you guessed it - epidural. "Yes, please, give me the epidural NOW NOW NOW!"

Answered Prayer #4: Having gone through a painful healing process from episiotomy three years ago, I told Dr Y that I was prepared to risk a tear this time round. Indeed, while there were a couple of minor tears, the healing has been much less uncomfortable.

Answered Prayer #5: The support for Dylan - friends would know that I've spent months worrying about how D will cope with the intrusion of a little one. Though living with the grandparents have eased the transition, the addition of our helper, Ed. has been a godsend. Little D calls her "Tita Rina" (mispronoucing her name, unfortunately but she doesn't seem to mind), and altogether they've been great at keeping him occupied and out of my hair when I need to tend to little one.

In fact, little D's been a pretty good gor gor all things considered. =)



So, what do you think? Do the brothers look alike?

D at 3 weeks old:


G at 1 week old:

My heart grieves

In yesterday's Sunday Times, was an innocuously titled article "Graves with No Names".
(http://www.straitstimes.com/Breaking%2BNews/Singapore/Story/STIStory_420289.html)

It reported on abortion statistics in Singapore - an astounding 30 abortions a day, 12,222 abortions in 2007. This almost beggars belief, and reading the story made my heart ache so for the little ones who were never given a chance to come into being.

Little G is due to arrive anytime now, and I'm trying to enjoy having him inside me for just a few more days. Even though this is my second pregnancy, the wonder of having a life grow inside me, and being able to feel him move his little limbs, and seeing his hiccups translate to bumpety bumps on my tummy is something I will never quite learn to take for granted.

So it is in that context that I found my tears falling for the many many little ones whose mothers are just not ready for them, as I read the story. A 27-year-old who was interviewed had just aborted a 16-week old foetus and was asked if she intended to claim the foetus from the hospital. It seems that in Singapore, an aborted foetus before 24-weeks old could simply be left to the disposal of the hospitals. So she said why would she when all she wanted to do was to get on with the rest of her life.

One day, I thought to myself, her past will catch up with her.

Maybe one day when she is ready to be mom, and has found the right guy who can be a good father, she'll experience the joy of a full term 40-week pregnancy and witness her own transformation into a mother, and realize what a colossal mistake she's made before.

On that day, she'll remember her unborn babe and wonder what it would feel like to hold him/ her in her arms, and be the mother that she chose not to be once upon a time.

I offer a silent prayer for all unborn babes and their mothers for whom I can only pray for redemption and forgiveness. These lyrics seem to sum it all up:

I've Never Been To Me
( Charlene )

Hey lady, you lady, cursing at your life
You're a discontented mother and a regimented wife
I've no doubt you dream about the things you'll never do
But, I wish someone had talked to me
Like I wanna talk to you.....

Oh, I've been to Georgia and California and anywhere I could run
I took the hand of a preacher man and we made love in the sun
But I ran out of places and friendly faces because I had to be free
I've been to paradise but I've never been to me

Please lady, please lady, don't just walk away
'Cause I have this need to tell you why I'm all alone today
I can see so much of me still living in your eyes
Won't you share a part of a weary heart that has lived million lies....

Oh, I've been to Niece and the Isle of Greece while I've sipped champagne on a yacht
I've moved like Harlow in Monte Carlo and showed 'em what I've got
I've been undressed by kings and I've seen some things that a woman ain't supposed to see
I've been to paradise, but I've never been to me

[spoken]
Hey, you know what paradise is?
It's a lie, a fantasy we create about people and places as we'd like them to be
But you know what truth is?
It's that little baby you're holding, it's that man you fought with this morning
The same one you're going to make love with tonight
That's truth, that's love......

Sometimes I've been to crying for unborn children that might have made me complete
But I took the sweet life, I never knew I'd be bitter from the sweet
I've spent my life exploring the subtle whoring that costs too much to be free
Hey lady......
I've been to paradise, (I've been to paradise)
But I've never been to me

(I've been to Georgia and California, and anywhere I could run)
I've been to paradise, never been to me
(I've been to Neice and the isle of Greece while I've sipped champagne on a yacht)
I've been to paradise, never been to me
(I've been to cryin' for unborn children that might have made me complete)
I've been to paradise, never been to me
(I've been to Georgia and California, and anywhere I could run)
I've been to paradise, never been to me

National Day Holiday outing

It's hard to imagine that almost 2 months have passed since the last entry.

Returning home, starting work, and re-orientating little one and myself back into a totally different kind of routine while entering my final 2 months of pregnancy really has taken more out of me than I predicted!

Here we are, just a little less than a month to go before baby G arrives.

Big brother D is only starting to refer to "di di G" as being "inside mommy's tummy". In one of his darker moods he would even smack the tummy to express some ill-defined, nebulous frustration that life for him will get a little chaotic soon.

On the bright side, D has settled nicely into a routine of sorts, saying good-bye to me when I leave for work in the morning, then spending the morning with the gramps before heading off to Bethesda Kindergarten around noon for half a day. Plus, he's diapers-free most of the day now, and aside from the occasional accidents he's quite capable of bringing himself to the potty to relieve himself for both #1 and #2!

In the evenings, we sit down for a simple dinner with the computer on, connected to the father at his study desk on Skype. Then a bit of TV before milk, a little play, a goodnight kiss to Daddy on Skype, then shower, and bedtime.

This weekend we celebrated Singapore's 44th National Day, and today being a public holiday, I decided to bring him down to West Coast Park for a play with his cousins. Just a couple of shots sans the other littlies, but with his maternal grandma:

D and the ever popular sand pit.




*****

At 35 weeks, am feeling fatigued, heavy, and a little worried that baby G will come out too soon.

At 31 years, am feeling a little old for my age, and wondering how some of my fellow mommy friends never seem to lose their inner little girl, and taking each day in their stride, they seem to enjoy the moments of being amused by their baby's shenanigans.

Came across a facebook profile pic of an unmarried friend with wind blowing in her hair, a beautiful smile set against an awe-inspiring backdrop of a Scottish loch and highland landscape. And something inside me stirred... a deep deep longing that just for a moment, I too, want to be alone again. And redeem my identity untainted by the responsibilities of being a woman in my situation, just me and God and His great awesome creation.

In the seminal parental piece of writing "What to Expect When You Are Expecting", the writers explain that it is perfectly normal for mothers to be so overwhelmed by the sudden change in their lives that many mourn the loss of their selfhood post-partum.

I wonder how much of this loss I can rightfully indulge in even before number 2 comes.

Daddy comes home

Little D has been a happy chappy since Daddy came home a week ago.


Now, I see for myself how important his Daddy is to him, though he expressedly doesn't show it much when the father is around.

He sleeps more soundly at night now, and though he still wakes up at 5am calling "mommy, mommy" the night terrors are gone, thank God!

And even though the father claims to be squirmish about father-son intimacy ("Boys don't kiss their daddies!" so he says), his big broad smile betrays the pleasure he gets when little tyke kisses him in the face at bedtime.

Waiting for Daddy at the airport arrival hall

All about Fathers

Gong gong watches on as little D plays

Funny how as the years go by more and more fathers appear in my life.

As a wee child, because I hardly ever got to see my grandparents, my father was the only father I really knew.

Growing up, an increasing sense that there is an awesome-ness to life that makes it bigger than our inevitable deaths finally brought me to my knees, and I accepted Jesus as my personal lord and savior.

So then, I had 2 fathers. My earthly "爸爸”and my Creator who through Jesus' death on the cross I can call my Abba Father.

In one, I saw the shadow of the other - a provider, a disciplinarian, a mentor who spurs me to achieve the best I could achieve, who by example shows me that a balanced life includes work and play. Both can make my head hang in utter shame and with their praise make my spirit soar to the heavens! But only in the case of my 爸爸, does play mean lots of tennis and waking up at 6am to hit the golf course for 9 holes!

And then, when I turned 22, suddenly my eldest brother became a father to a beautiful little girl, and I had a niece for the first time. It felt really odd watching this brother of mine turn from gawky teenager who tries sometimes to "parent" me into a working, married adult, and then he's now a Daddy himself!

Two years later, second elder brother got married and quickly became a Daddy too.

So then I officially had 4 fathers in my family.

Eventually, Mr Right came along, and I gained another dad - my father-in-law. So different from my own daddy in so many ways, but so similar in others. Both self-sacrificing in their generosity in helping us both set up home, and weather-beaten having lived through war and tough nation-building years we only read about in textbooks.

And then I became a mommy, and Mr Right suddenly found himself saddled with the responsibility of being a Dad to a screaming baby.

In the last two years, I shared his journey of making all the mistakes beginner parents make - not knowing how to read our baby's cues, disciplining a toddler the wrong way round, experiencing the explosive anger that only a Dad who cares about how a child should behave can express, and only afterwards realize how scary that can be for a little child.

And seeing the love grow between Daddy and son, the tender caresses at bedtime, the playful jostling and tickling, the joyful whoop our little one lets out when Daddy throws him in the air.

This weekend, we celebrated all of that, and I got to spend time with all my 6 Daddies. It's kind of come full circle for me, but I think little D is more blessed because he gets 3 daddies who adore him so - Daddy, Grandpa and Gong Gong.

At Charlie's in Katong, enjoying a Peranakan dinner:


The Chen tribe: