"Okay, enough of the photographer's flash. Let me get some beauty sleep."

 

"After you have finished with my slender fingers, you can start on my pedicure."

Didn't believe my comment about her fingers, toes, etc.? Have a look for yourselves. 

"I'm the Champion of the World!...even when I'm sleeping."

 

Father & Daughter

Here is the requested picture:- proof that Daddy really can handle a baby!

The picture was taken in the hospital a few minutes before Cindy was discharged, after (don't miss this) Daddy changed Hannah's nappy for the first time! 

So YOU are the one who has been causing all the trouble!
...But I must say Hannah, you are very cute.

 

Welcome, Hannah Wylie!

Here is our little bundle of joy: Hannah Wylie, born on 30th July 2006 at 4:58pm.
She weighs 3.3kg, measures 50cm in length and has the longest fingers/arms/legs/toes you have ever seen on a new-born! Now Mummy knows why Hannah has been kicking so much...

...speaking of whom, Cindy went to the University Hospital, PJ, at 9am and by 5pm it was all over. No epidural. A lot of pain. Right now she is trying to sleep in the hospital, while Hannah cries to be fed every 30 minutes! The joys of parenthood are already becoming apparent. 

Delivered, Due or Overdue?

Saturday 22nd July 2006 was Cindy's due-date. So what happened?!

The simple answer is...nothing. Things are much the same as they have been for the last few months. But now Cindy is overdue. Isn't it ironic after all that has happened? As someone said to us at church on Sunday, God has a sense of humour :-)

The Full Dress Rehearsal

We spend quite a lot of time preparing for the real thing, don't we?

At school, we spent endless hours rehearsing for choir & band performances. The annual school musical production was the highlight of the academic year, and I remember the night of the full dress rehearsal being the final chance to pick up loose ends and polish up our performance. Needless to say, all students know the value of mock examinations - nothing better to help kick complacent students into an adrenaline-pumping panic mode.

In medical school, we practiced clinical skills on plastic dummies, poking and prodding friends, colleagues and other willing victims before descending on unsuspecting patients in teaching hospitals. Even as doctors we have regular Major Disaster Plan drills, usually simulating a plane crash at the nearby KL International Airport.


The Full Dress Rehearsal

Well, we never thought it'd be the same way in pregnancy.

Having had false alarms at 24 and 28 weeks (those were alarming ones), we had another couple last weekend (those were annoying ones). The last one was a Full Dress Rehearsal, culminating in a hospital admission complete with bags and infant car seat in tow. My cardiotocograph showed solid evidence of an active labour brewing with contractions coming every 5 minutes or less. The pain was bearable but I looked sufficiently distressed for the Obstetrician to insist on giving me an injection that left me dopey for the rest of the night.

Like a tropical storm, it came suddenly, and left suddenly.

5 hours later, I was left feeling my good old Braxton-Hicks contractions, still sleepy, a little disappointed, and quite foolish for creating such a fuss. Quite apparently, our unborn child had decided to spend a little more quality time with her mother.

Tales and Folklore

Prior to this admission, I had been doing some research on "DIY induction of labour". Of course, the medical profession encourages nature to take its course and will only induce labour for specific maternal or fetal problems. However, can it hurt to help nature move along a little faster?

Among the thousands of articles, blogs and scientific papers available online, none seemed to give a fully convincing non-medical method for inducing labour. In fact, some advice even seemed contradictory. The methods ranged from starvation & dehydration to ingesting all sorts of things, including: Chinese food, egg plant Parmesan(from a specific restaurant), Raspberry leaf tea, Primrose Oil, blue cohosh, pineapple, Mexican food, Lea & Perrins Worchestire sauce, Macaroni & Cheese etc.

Slightly more uncomfortable methods would involve taking castor oil, having enemas, and engaging in all sorts of physical activities - curb walking, scrubbing the kitchen floor after midnight, jumping and intercourse. Others depended on methods beyond our control - after all, how many of us can summon a storm or a full moon at will? Those with a leaning towards alternative medicine would no doubt consider homeotherapy, accupuncture or even hypnosis.

The winner has to be folks from the distant past. Have a look at this:

When a pregnant Plains Indian woman was near term and showed no sign of going into labor, tribe members would tie her to a rock in an open field and stage a mock "attack," pulling up their horses only at the very last minute, in hopes of inducing labor. The Pilgrims, for their part, would stand women whose babies were late against a pole, strap them to it, and pound the pole up and down against the ground -- apparently hoping to shake the baby loose. - Gina Shaw

http://www.webmd.com/content/article/62/71738.htm

As for me, I am convinced that our baby will arrive when she is ready. Despite trying some highly rated DIY methods, I am still left empty handed after several hospital admissions. Curiously enough, I am now quietly resigned to the fact that nature will take its course in spite of whatever arm-twisting efforts on my part.

My due date is tomorrow, but I won't be putting much hope on the 5% probability of delivering on that day.

Final words of encouragement

Before the days of epidurals and TENS, they must have circulated stories such as this to pacify anxious mothers-to-be:

"Shortt says that one day, while crossing the esplanade at Villaire, between seven and eight o'clock in the morning, he perceived three Hindoo women with large baskets of cakes of 'bratties' on their heads, coming from a village about four miles distant. Suddenly one of the women stood still for a minute, stooped, and to his surprise dropped a fully developed male child to the ground. One of her companions ran into the town, about 100 yards distant, for a knife to divide the cord. A few of the female passers-by formed a screen about the mother with their clothes, and the cord was divided. The after-birth came away, and the woman was removed to the town. It was afterward discovered that she was the mother of two children, was twenty-eight years old, had not the slightest sign of approaching labor, and was not aware of parturition until she actually felt the child between her thighs."

"Coleman met an instance in a married woman, who without the slightest warning was delivered of a child while standing near a window in her bedroom. The child fell to the floor and ruptured the cord about one inch from the umbilicus, but with speedy attention the happiest results were attained. Twitchell has an example in the case of a young woman of seventeen, who was suddenly delivered of a child while ironing some clothes. The cord in this case was also ruptured, but the child sustained no injury."-From Anomalies and Curiosities of Medicine, by George M. Gould, A.M., M.D., and Walter L. Pyle, A.M., M,D. (The Julian Press, Inc., 1896)

http://www.unassistedchildbirth.com/inspired/painless.html

Anomalies and curiosities indeed. Sounds like something right out from "Ripley's Believe it or Not!". Perhaps I should just find some clothes to iron...

Of patients and patience

Working in a government hospital means that I am never short of patients. And for that reason, our patients often complain that public healthcare staff are too busy and lack that gentle human touch when delivering services to the public. In other words, we lack patience, and no wonder.

Well, now the roles have reversed. Never before have I had to see a doctor so frequently in such a short period - I now require weekly antenatal visits. After yet another excruciating wait in the clinic this morning, I think I should just follow the advice of a well meaning friend, which is to walk up and down the apartment stairs as often as possible to speed up the onset of labour! Anything, to avoid another visit to the antenatal clinic.

"How can a society that exists on instant mash potatoes, packaged cake mixes, frozen dinners and instant cameras teach patience to its young?" - Paul Sweeney

I never had much patience, and I blame it on my genes. I have always disliked waiting for people. At least now most of us have mobile phones and you can pester a friend incessantly two minutes after the supposed meeting time. Not that many years ago, a 10am appointment was just that, and we could only guess at the reason when someone didn't turn up on time.

At clinics, I expect the patient to step through the door no less than 30 seconds after ringing their numbers. After all, we usually have patients in the hundreds to get through in a morning. In the operating theatres, we have internal audits studying the time required for a patient to arrive in OT after calling for them. Anything longer than the stated limit, the ward staff would be threatened with an incident report.

My mother wonders why I am impartial to Chinese soup. Some families cannot do without it every evening, and I am certain that I will have my fair share of it during confinement. I simply cannot imagine why people would bother spending hours boiling something, throwing half of it away - bones, meat, herbs and unpalatable things (only so because it has been boiled to the point of tastelessness) - and drinking only what seems to be a small fraction from all that effort. Why make chicken essence when you can just eat the chicken? Why juice something when you can just enjoy the fruit whole?

"The key to everything is patience. You get the chicken by hatching the egg, not by smashing it open." - Arnold H. Glasow

Well, obviously God knows I need some lessons in patience.

Three months ago, I perfected the skill of lying on my back and studying the ceiling for most of my daylight hours. Lying in the hospital ward, I could do little other than time my contractions. Sitting in a busy antenatal clinic, I had to wait to register, wait to get the regular tests done, and wait again to see my busy specialist. Then of course, there's the wait to get another appointment and the wait to see the sonographer.

Once I even had to wait for a doctor to take a blood sample after 4 unsuccessful attempts by the clinic nurses. You can imagine how annoyed I was when told that I would have to come back after the lunch hour, despite having spent the whole morning, yes, waiting.

" The real secret of patience is to find something else to do in the meantime." - Anonymous

How ironic that while I should complain about having too much time now, I realise that my baby will demand all of my time and attention in the not too distant future. To be honest, I have a task list that I had hoped to get through in the last weeks and months but never really found the discipline or desire to complete. Enjoy my relative freedom now, as friends have said.

I suppose I could have checked and told you who the people are that I have just quoted. But you know me, I have no patience for that...

Practising Fatherhood

Meet... Dengue-Bear!!

Not quite the new addition to the family as expected. That, has yet to come. 38 weeks and counting.


With a new chapter in our lives looming, it is time to get things ready for an addition to our family. So this weekend we got the carrier / car seat set up. To help us imagine what it will be like, we enlisted the help of Dengue-Bear. With all the pads and straps fixed up, it's hard to imagine our baby moving very much in this contraption.

Mother's instinct (Cindy and her mom!) tells us that this is probably the last weekend we have to get ready, so we're doing all we can to get our baby's corner fit for the new addition to move in. As we write this, we are taking a break cleaning and rearranging furniture. In the background, we can hear Cindy's mom working the sewing machine to get cot accessories ready!

This is as exciting as it gets unfortunately. If you were hoping for more earth-shattering news, you'll have to keep coming back to check for the latest updates.

Shouldn't be too long now... 

Still Having Contractions?!

This is the No 1 question everyone has been asking me since.... since 3 months ago. The answer (which often elicits incredulous looks) is yes, but irregularly.

Doctors usually go a step further and ask," Is it painful?", in an attempt to distinguish it from the relatively harmless Braxton Hicks contractions (i.e. false/ practice contractions).

Now, this is where it gets a little tricky. Yes, it is painful, but I don't really know how 'real' contractions feel like since this is my first pregnancy. But I know it bothers me enough to wake me up several times at night, distracts me when I drive, makes me stop if I'm taking a walk and characteristically makes me break out in sweat.

Yet, knowing that the irregular nature of the contractions will not lead to actual labour, I am not too bothered about it. In fact, sufficiently distracted, I can even choose to ignore it. Interestingly, the significance of 'pain' has evolved over the weeks.

We celebrated 37 weeks last Saturday, a real milestone for our little one who we thought would certainly be a screaming newborn by now. The many prayers of our friends and family have been answered - our baby has reached full term.

Looking back, the first few weeks of April were fraught with anxiety and fear. I doubt the actual contractions were very painful, but with each one came a real threat of delivering a very premature baby. Bed rest was strictly adhered to, and each contraction was meticulously recorded in a little notebook. Several weeks, and 2 hospital admissions later, our little one was growing well (so was I!) and I gained increasing confidence. However, my little notebook told me that my contractions were still occuring at a similar frequency.

Fast forward 2 months later, I was back at work. Driving along the Federal Highway, I typically experienced one or two contractions but somehow managed. My notebook? It had long been abandoned.

Now, approaching the final bend of a long marathon, fellow drivers will be glad to know that I'm no longer on the road, but resting at home. Throughout these weeks and months, the contractions never ceased. The golden question once again - is it painful? Yes, but it doesn't bother me as much. In fact, right now I would welcome any indication of labour since I know our little baby is ready to face the world. I welcome pain!

This brings me to a superb book that I had read recently - "The Gift Of Pain" co-authored by Philip Yancey and the late Dr Paul Brand. Readers of Yancey will know that Dr Brand influenced him immensely, and studies of his life would yield top-selling books such as "Where Is God When It Hurts?".

Dr Brand was a renowned surgeon who spent much of his 50-year career working among leprosy patients in India and the USA. His work allowed him to probe into the mysteries of pain, and he finally concluded that pain is a gift from God. He saw the problems lepers faced due to painlessness, how pain was such an essential signal to the body of imminent danger. Without the warning signals of pain, lepers typically damaged their own bodies unknowingly, resulting in progressive loss of limbs, sight and eventually, their very lives.

Dr Brand divides the experience of pain into three stages:

1. Stage one - the pain signal experienced by the peripheral nerves
2. Stage two - the "spinal gate" at the level of the spinal cord and base of brain that sorts out signals that are then forwarded as a message to the brain
3. Stage three - the higher brain which sorts out the messages and decides on a response

While modern medicine has a range of tools to deal with pain at stages one and two at increasing efficiency, it is perhaps at stage three where a person can have the greatest control over his experience of pain. Painful contractions at 24 weeks gestation and 37 weeks gestation have totally different implications. Where previously I reacted with fear and tears, now I eagerly anticipate labour pains, knowing that I will finally see my precious baby (and end the debate about the hair colour!).

He goes on to illustrate his point with a story about a soldier who fought at war and sustained wounds as evidence of his selfless bravery. Yet, when it came to receiving injections in the hospital ward, nurses and doctors simply could not help him overcome his irrational phobia of needles.

This concept also explains the widely accepted cultural differences on the perception of pain. Ask any Malaysian midwife and she'll tell you without hesitation that Indians have the lowest pain thresholds and the Chinese seem to be at the other end of the spectrum. Dr Brand tells us of an interesting childbirth syndrome called "Couvade" in societies of the Amazon Valley and Micronesia, where women in labour seldom display any signs of discomfort or pain. Instead, it is the husband who seems to bear all signs of conventional distress - lying and groaning in bed for hours and even days after the delivery!

Ah, there are too many interesting stories to relate from the book. Grab a copy and be completely amazed by the intricacies of the human body, which can only point us to our Creator.

Meanwhile, I wait impatiently for the arrival of my baby. As C.S.Lewis wrote:

"Exaggerate the weariness by making him think it will soon be over; for men usually feel that a strain could have been endured no longer at the very moment when it is ending, or when they think it is ending. " Uncle Screwtape, from The Screwtape Letters

Of course, I can hardly parallel my experience to that of war, but you get the drift.

More another time...