Look what Dear Hubby and I made!!! Everyone, please say hello to Connor Xian L., born 6 Nov 2008 at 12:20pm.
This is how it happened:
I check into hospital for a test as I was feeling uneasy about my contractions. Tests revealed the baby's heart rate would dip slightly with contractions, so I was kept in for half a day and monitored every 2 hours. When it appeared everything was stabilised and okay, the nurses gave me a cervical exam. Drats. No dilation. So I was sent home.
I had a show, my discharge was brown-ish. Alarmed, I called the hospital and was told to come in straight away. Dear Hubby and I decided to take my bags along as well just in case today would be THE day. I'd packed for the labour weeks ago, so all we had to do was give it a quick check and off we went.
Tests again showed fetal heart rate would dip with contractions. They admitted me for whole day tests and I spent time watching the US elections while waiting for tests results. By late afternoon, Dear Hubby and I had decided we wanted an induction. We didn't like the thought of baby heart rate dipping and anyway, I was close to my due date of 10 Nov. That night, I call home to let my parents know they would be joining the Grandparents Club the next day.
I wake up at 430am. Hadn't slept much all night anyway because I was thinking this was my last night before I join the Mommy Club. I went to delivery room at 530am as instructed and was given a check and an enema. Okay, this enema thing sounds and is awful but it really helps ensure you don't worry about pooing during delivery.
At 6am they hook me up to drugs to start the induction. I call home to update my parents on the progress. My mum duly rushes off to temple to offer prayers for our safety.
A check at 9am reveals that the baby's heart rate would drop alarmingly low with each contraction. Something was clearly distressing our baby. I was almost in tears worrying about his safety. I'm thinking, "We've waited so long and come this far, we're almost there... don't let anything go wrong now." I could tell Dear Hubby was thinking the same.
The doctor monitors me for another 2 hours and when the heart pattern repeats itself, the decision is made to operate on me. We were not going to risk any stronger contractions. So at noon, I was wheeled into the Op Theatre. Boy, was I nervous!
The Op team at Pondok Indah Hospital was excellent. They were professional, competent and very good at reassuring me when they saw how nervous I was. Just before surgery started, they made me lie down with arms extended... kinda like how you pin a frog down before you dissect him in Bio class. I feel your pain, Brother Frog, truly I do.
Being under anaesthesia is like tripping. Hehe. Not that I've ever done drugs but I guess this is what it feels like. Colours and images were swirling around me and I was spinning round and round, there were fat sadhus giggling and waving at me. Woo-wee. 'scuse me while I kiss the sky!
I had this feeling that someone brought something to me and said, "You have a healthy baby boy!" I thought it was the drugs but no, it really happened. I'd brought my digicam in, so I've got photographic proof of it all. Really cool. Turned out that the baby's cord had wound itself loosely around his neck in the womb, which was why his heart rate was affected during contractions. YIKES. I wasn't even having very strong contractions and already his heart rate had dipped so low. Thank god we didn't wait for proper labour to start before going to hospital, I don't know what would have happened then.
As the drugs wore off, I started babbling nonsense. Mostly asking after my baby. And of all the shitty luck... I get this guy who goes apologetically in B. Indon, "Maaf... bisa berbahasa Indonesia?" (I'm sorry.. but can you speak Indonesian?) Dude. I've just been cut open, had my baby taken out and stitched up. I'm still pumped full of drugs. It's VERY hard for me to translate stuff in my head now from English to Indonesian!
At 1pm, I'm wheeled out to recovery and as I exit the theatre, I manage to ask drowsily, "Dah habis?" (We're done?) When they say yes, I giggle, "Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan... you guys are gooooooooooood... " and promptly black out again. See. I'm embarrassing myself here.
And there is Dear Hubby, waiting anxiously in the airlock between the sterile recovery room and the corridor beyond. He'd kicked up such a fuss about seeing me, they decided it was easier to put him in the airlock. I come to eventually to see him waving at me and we carry on a disjointed convie, shouting sentences across each time the airlock opens. Eventually the staff gets tired of our shouting and wheel me out to the airlock so that we can talk without disturbing the other patients.
The first thing I do is to ask after our son and Dear Hubby reassures me that he's fine and healthy and has yowled the place down. The second thing I do is to hold my husband's hand, kiss it and tell him, "Thank you for our son." We're both in tears and he shows me the pics of our boy, just minutes old, pink, wet and definitely yowling.
Half an hour later, I'm meeting our baby boy for the first time in the hospital room. I don't know who cried more, the baby or us. I'm in bloody pain from the uterine contractions pulling on my stitches, my head hurts, my lower half is all pins and needles and I feel oh so tired but you know what?
He's worth it all.