Ok Baby D’s sleeping and dreaming about drinking milk (babies live such simple lives) so I’m going to continue and finish my labour story. It’s a long post so go make a cup of coffee first. I’ll wait.
If you haven’t read Part 1, click here.
Then read Part 2, click here.
Now I begin the last bit, Part 3.
I’m on a wheelchair to the labour room, contractions and all.
Of course Snuggles/Munirah had to come, she’s family!
As soon as we approached the room, I reminded Dean, “You told them to hide all the utensils off the table or the counter right? You promise????” There is NO WAY I’m going to see the scissors cutting my hoohaa or any form of needle or knife. I WILL CRY.
Inside the room, I saw the labour bed, a bunch of wires and then next to it the place where they put the baby. My heart skipped a beat. In the next few minutes (haha! How deluded I was…minutes… so cute!), there will be a baby on that thing. Our baby.
Contractions were at a constant interval and everytime, I would hang on to Dean and clutch his hands/collar/shoulders/whatever was nearest. At this point, it was pretty good still because I could walk around, sit down, lie down, have breakfast, go to the toilet.. Both our moms were there too coming in and out whenever they can. It was like our own private suite. Haha.
I spent a lot of the time reading the Quran actually. I was calm, but I still felt like I wanted to be close to God. You really never appreciate religion until you realize you really really need Him because at the end of the day, it’s all up to Him.
Doctor came in and put on his gloves. “Ok, let’s break your water bag.”
“No thanks. I heard that when your water breaks, the contractions get crazy painful.”
The doctor laughed gently, said “No, don’t worry,” and put on his other glove.
“Eh, wait wait waitttt… Is this going to be painful?”
“I don’t believe you. Can I have the epidural first at least?”
And he broke my water bag. It did not hurt, phewwww!
I always thought once the water bag breaks, a big flood will happen around you and it’ll be all dramatic like in the movies. But actually, the water comes out bit by bit, sometimes as little as period and other times A LOT until they have to change the hospital bed sheet. Water just kept coming out that I started wondering if there’s even a baby in there with that much water coming out of me. And then of course… I thought “Oooh have I lost weight?”
I sometimes hear moms-to-be going “Yeah I’m going to do it drug free. I want to feeeeeeel the labour pain.” I just continue on chomping my ice chips and saying “Oh yeah yeah, I completely understand.” I really don’t. That’s super heroic of them, but from the start, this chicken was all wheres-the-sign-up-sheet-for-happydural-town?
People like to scare you with stories on how big the epi needle is (one even told me it’s the size of a pen) and whatnot, but I was thinking stick whatever you have to in me because if THIS is the contraction at 1-2 cm, I am not curious at all to find out how the pain will be at 7-8 cm.
And let me be the one to tell you because you know I’m such a scaredy-cat when it comes to pain… epidural was not painful at all. I thought the water drip they gave me after that was way more painful! (I still hate that thing)
The doctor was reallyyyyy good and calm, and told me to just relax. I hugged a pillow and Dean hugged me tight because he knew I was nervous. You can’t move when they do it on you, so I made sure I was as still as possible and I just focused on zikir the entire time. They injected the needle into my back and even though I felt the pressure, I couldn’t feel the pain. It was good, Alhamdulillah. Within minutes I could still feel my legs and all, but I couldn’t feel contractions anymore even though my graph was soaring up and down indicating my volatile contraction levels. I just smiled looking at my graph while sipping water through a straw.
Ahhh… epidural = juice from heaven.
After the epidural, you can’t walk around anymore so more Quran time.
4 cm dilated.
8 cm dilated.
9 cm dilated.
Doctor said “Any minute now” and a few midwives came in to prepare the utensils. I gave Dean the I-don’t-want-to-see-anything-sharp look. The midwives propped my legs up on the leg-opener thingy so I was already in the “pushing position”. My contractions were high, but thank God I never felt them.
Suddenly I felt super light-headed and I felt like I was going to pass out. Dean asked the midwife why I was looking so pale. They gave me some water and I asked for some dates because I needed sugar. I’m not sure what happened there but I think I was just feeling a bit nervous because the moment was about to come. I was about to meet my son and thinking about it made me all pale. (I’m sure Baby D will feel so loved when he reads this later on bahaha)
I looked at Dean and that gave me happiness. I thought of God and reminded myself He’s there helping me. I thought of all our family members just outside the labour room waiting and their prayers gave me strength.
Ok I can do this.
This went on for several rounds. I had to do a LOT of pushing till Baby D’s head came out. The doctor said he was going to use a vacuum but I refused (stubborn even when my baby’s head was in my hoohaa) and I pushed even harder.
At one point, I even thought “Oh man… I’m pretty sure I don’t look so attractive pushing I can’t believe my husband has to watch this face.”
Baby D’s first ever cry.
That was the cutest cry anyone has ever made, I thought inside. (Now his cries are not so cute anymore… especially the ones at 4 am.)
They wrapped Baby D up and was going to hand him over to put him on my chest. He was all yellow-mucous with blood bits on him. Until now, I cannot believe these words actually came out of my mouth:
“Waitwaitwaittt he’s got stuff on him…clean him up first!”
Worst. Mother. Ever.
I looked over at Dean and there he was, wiping his happy tears and looking at Baby D with so much love and affection.
Oh great, make me look like the bad guy.
We both gave Baby D our salam and Dean started reciting the Azan to his ear.
(It’s a Muslim thing when a baby is born… Don’t worry, we’re not actually telling the baby to pray now or anything)
It must have been the drugs or the hormones earlier, because that night I just couldn’t get enough of Baby D. I kept walking really slowly to him and putting my finger under his nose to check if he was breathing. And then just stare at him for ages with loved up eyes.
“Baby of Vivy Sofinas Yusof” written on the tag. Made my heart flutter with joy.
So then I thought about quitting my job.
Bahahah I’m telling you! Drugs and hormones!
On a serious note, I was feeling so much love for Allah swt for giving Dean and I such a beautiful son and a good labor experience with it. It was almost unreal. We had both our dads’ prayers, both moms were waiting hand and foot from the very morning, my sister and sil were both there for us, my bils were also outside the labour room, Asma’ and Toots were praying for me, and the FV team came to see Baby D right after work. We got so much love from our close friends and relatives that I can’t wait to tell Baby D how blessed he is.
So he better be a good boy and listen to Mommy!