I clearly remember both my pregnancies really well.
This time 6 years ago, I was checking myself into Mount Elizabeth Hospital.
She was still sitting high, not quite due till another 9 days later, but that didn't matter, I was having elective cesarean. Reason for doing so? The
amniotic fluid in my womb was getting lesser by the day, and so good old Dr Charles, my obstetrian, decided that she should meet her daddy and mummy earlier.
My dearest auntie P had chosen for her to be a Monday's child.
It was going to be my last day of pregnancy and I was going to let myself be pampered. My last meal before delivery was to be taken by 9am. I remember feeling really nervous and excited at the same time. I don't know what I was nervous about, especially since it was my second time round. All I had that morning was three bowls of bird's nest soup freshly brewed by me overnight. Yep! You read it right. I can brew some mean yummy bird's nest soup okay!
Never deliever on a Monday, we remember thinking! Boy, for some strange reason, the hospital was really crowded that day. Would have preferred an early morning c-section but Dr Charles, being the busy and famous man he is, had appointments chock a block and could only fit me in in the evening. With Ethan, we were his first patients of the day, it was totally just us, to one point even, it seemed and felt as though we were the only ones in the hospital.
I remember changing into that airy backless gown that lets your butt hang out when worn. Both hubs and me were so nervous. Whilst reciting the rosary, I remember he kept stroking my bangs and kissing my forhead pausing between our prayers for a sweet word of encouragement or two. I also remember feeling more nervous each time he did that. Not complaining here ah babe. LOL.
My heart pounded like there was no tomorrow when three hospital staffs showed up in our room which meant it was time to head to the operating theatre. Though not my first time, inside me, I was already about to go into a frenzy whilst trying my best to remain cool and collected. I can take pain, am okay with needles, hate to see blood but the one thing I hate most is the hospital cold. I mean the minus zero degree temperature in hospitals really gets to me and what was worst was that there was no escaping from that.
And so I was wheeled to the operating theatre, all this while clutching hub's hand who still was giving me a kiss on the forehead every now and then like contraction intervals! Finally, just outside the OT, at the area where husbands are not allowed in any further, we spoke abit, hugged and kissed and I remember telling hubs that if for some strange reason that I didn't make it, he MUST raise our children up to the best of his ability and to always be there for them and that he had to constantly remind them how happy and proud I am of them and most importantly, how much I loved them. I remember hubs ssshhhing me and telling me that everything would be alright whilst still kissing my forehead.
Waiting. I hated the feeling of waiting for my anathetist, Dr Foo (who by the way, was my obstetrician's wife). She had a complicated case at the A&E and we were all waiting for her. Anyway, there I was, like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered, I lost count of the number of times I said the Hail Mary whilst my obstetrician and the other staffs discussed the tattoos on my body, how to keep it intact and how fluent I was in Mandarin and how long my eye-lashes were etc...
And when the time came for action, I remembered nothing as I was knocked out within two seconds. Chloe Isabelle my baby was borne exactly just before 5pm. Hubs was brought in and he was wow-ed when he saw our precious baby girl. Everything was over in a jiffy, I was wheeled away to the recovery ward, then to my own ward, where hubs praised me non-stop and of course, the kissing on the forehead resumed. It went on the whole night, in fact. Each time he got up to check on me, he'd give me a peck on my cheeks and forehead which a message of encouragement. I totally love you for that babe. When the nurse wheeled little baby Chloe in for me to meet her for the first time, words really cannot express how I truly really felt at that moment. She was this sweet angelic baby, so fair with rosy cheeks and soft complexion, her babylicious scent was to die for and the sweet little sounds she made was music to my ears! I couldn't stop crying when I held her in my arms. Happy tears of course. My first trimester whilst carrying her was not easy but if you ask me if I'd do it again, without a doubt, absolutely without a single doubt, I'd jump up and say YES!!! Hubs and me simply cannot imagine, our lives without her and her brother.
So, in a blink of an eye, 6 years flew by like lightning....
Happy Birthday Belle and GOD bless you.
You will be Papa and Mummy's little baby always.
