leah's (long-winded) birth story

a sudden drip
when i stopped work on friday 30 dec, i was all set to relax and enjoy my 9th month of pregnancy - the last leg, the last time i would be responsible just for my self: had my pride & prejudice dvd (the colin firth bbc version naturally, not the naff keira knightley hash job), loads of reading material, and a plan for lots of sun by the pool and leisurely swims, occasional guest appearances at the local pregnancy fitness classes, and of course internet shopping for extra nursery items.

this became a pipe dream when on new year's eve, while chez friend (a superb bachelor penthouse) i noticed unusual spotting from the nether regions. i tried not to worry about it, promising myself to just keep monitoring, but an hour or so later i was doubled over with a sharp pain in my abdomen. it lasted a moment, but enough to alarm. when i told the hub-unit however, he said to rest up and let's wait and see. (men!)

it was a smokey, loud (good DJs) ny's eve party and although i spent most of the evening cooped in the master bedroom enjoying the commisserating company of cowboy, a dewy-eyed jack russell, i did get to see the fireworks around kl. that was super...but it didn't lessen my concern.

on new year's day we lounged by the pool. sleep had made me cast aside the worry and i didn't see any new 'spotting'. then i went for a swim. now i'm the first to admit that i am no matt biondi or ian thorpe, so i was surprised, nay, alarmed again when my feeble exertions seemed to have induced severe pain. this time i was not so sanguine. i stopped swimming and worried for 2 days.

bombshell
the hospital's clinic was closed till tuesday and i had to wring my hand in anxiety 'til the morn of 3 jan. after popping into the office to see to some dangling matters i drove to the hospital where i was told to head straight into the maternity ward for CTG monitoring.

shortly, hub unit joined me in the room and not long later my gynae came along and examined me.

we were not quite prepared for the prognosis: there is definite premature rupture of the membrane and i was contracting already. the doc said i would be given some steroid injections to strengthen the baby's lungs and there will be blood tests to see if there is any infection in the womb. if there is the doc said that an emergency operation to take out the baby would be likely the day after (thurs, 5 jan)!

the doc asked if this would be alright. i was stunned. of course if there is an infection there is no debate: the baby has to be rescued and what could i do about it? but so soon?

i turned to look at hub-unit who had gaped and turned several shades paler than usual. he looked drained of blood and for a second or two i wondered if he needed oxygen.

when the doc left, both of us shook like leaves. calls were placed. his business trip (for the next day) was cancelled. it was only the 33rd week and baby was estimated to be 2.4kg (not enough to reassure the doc that taking her out would be best now).

hospital blues
suffice to say that i had to stay on in the hospital for observation and constant CTG monitoring. the great thing about it was that i could regularly hear baby's heartbeat each time they hooked up the machine and when the nurses came round with a handheld scan that picked up the heart rate.

hub-unit went back to work and returned later that evening with my hospital bag, which was luckily, already packed.

i was cossetted in the ward from tuesday afternoon till saturday 7 jan, and had plenty of bed rest, which was what the doc ordered. however, the days and nights were a bit dull...the astro service was very limited and i had no choice but watch news repeats on bbc world service. i did have visitors though: a good friend dropped by and loaned a few books, while my folks had come up (a planned visit, which was fortuitous) and they came in daily to check my progress.

those few days were suspenseful. i had quite a few blood tests while they tried to slow my contractions. finally my doc said that since the amniotic leak seemed to be slowly disappearing, she was willing to let me go home, under strict orders to remain at home and not attempt to go out at all. she hoped that while there would be regular clinic visits (twice a week), we could prolong the pregnancy till chinese new year (hopefully).

drooling over mr darcy
it was a real pain to be under house arrest. i wasn't even allowed to go check the mail. so i resolved to spend my time wisely: i watched pride & prejudice, as i thought (presciently it turns out) that my days of freedom could be curtailed shortly. what a dish colin firth was/is although that swim scene (a great liberty taken by the tv producers as of course it didn't happen in the book) when fitzwilliam darcy plunged into the pond in athletic despond and then strode about with a wet blouson sticking to his manly physique, while much touted and feted, was a bit disappointing for me. i didn't see how he could become a sex symbol because of it...he just appeared bedraggled, untidy. i was more enamoured of the chemistry between the two leads (who did have a romance then) and of how tall and unconventionally good looking c. firth is/was. anyway, it was a very very good production of a much-loved book. two cheers for the beeb.

after a few days vegetating at home, we had to go back for the next check-up. everything seemed okay till we got home (with a detour for hub-unit to check on a phone in bangsar baru).

then i started cramping and the leak, which had appeared to dry up, started again. this time with the same volume as when i went into the hospital the week before. my hope of having a cny baby (dog, aquarian) was dashed when on my second check-up (a week after i was discharged) the doc's face turned grim and she said i needed to be rehospitalised. thankfully baby was deemed to be of a good enough size, around 2.6kg (she'd been eating well and my womb had loads of amniotic fluid despite the leak).

maternity ward revisited: deja vu
i checked in around 1530 hours on 14 jan. this time we were better prepared mentally for the event. although i was without my trusty nokia handphone since hub-unit had misplaced (read: lost) it during the hubbub checking out from the hospital the previous time.

on sunday i was asked to pick the date of the delivery. it was to be a caesarian op as baby was breech, lying sideways across my belly.

initially, i thought it would be good to prolong the birth till maybe wednesday or thursday. if baby was born the next day (mon) then she would, like me, be a monday's child. and as she was going to be a capricorn kid, i thought it is just too much like me for comfort.

anyway, i changed my mind and gave the go-ahead to operate the next day. better to get this over with sooner rather than later, everyone thought (my mum & hub-unit; my dad had returned home thinking that i was safe).

d-day (delivery day)
i abstained from meals that morning. a real shame as i love my food and it had been fun picking things from the daily menu, even if the quality of the fare was similar to airline food. (the 2nd trimester onwards was fantastic as i had regained my appetite and food was glorious food, as the saying goes.) besides, it was kinda cheery to see the smiling face of the tudong-ed and bowtied miss who came to deliver and clear away meal trays.

it was a bit of a tortuous wait and i was counting down the seconds a bit nervously i have to admit. then finally they came to get me.

i was transferred - bodily shifted - to another bed and trundled through fluorescent-lit corridors, vault-like elevators and stark rooms to what seemed like dr frankenstein's lair. no, it wasn't that gothic. there was another bed in the middle of the small squarish room and i was bodily transferred across to it. the nurses who wheeled me there departed and a fresh pair of young looking docs/nurses (not the most inspiring sight to see such greenhorn pimply visages) sort of attended to me. i say sort of as they were tight-lipped. one was more smiley and managed a "you'll be fine" at least.

finally, after what seemed hours, my anaesthetist came in. he's a fatherly figure and after the operation i like and trust him immensely, but at that moment i was still trepidacious. i had seen the needles used in epidurals and they are like evil spikes. i was informed that the needle wouldn't hurt as the area would be locally anaesthesised first. i was told to sit up and a pillow/cushion was provided for me to hug/lean on.

an area down my spine was swabbed and the chill nearly made me jump. whatever it was was very cold.

after a few minutes the doc said, "hmmm...this is interesting."

now, in a different sort of situation, say at a crime scene or a poetry reading, "this is interesting" would be quite a thrilling little comment. but as i waited wondering whether the epidural was effecting, knowing that an enormous needle had just had its wicked way with me, the comment was wholly unwelcome.

the doc then said that a fluid was leaking out from the needle puncture (uh...so?) and that it was the first time he had seen anything like this (shit on a stick!).

i was thus left epidural tubeless (normally i think they stick a tube that allows the numbing drug to flow into the spine). but i think they injected the drug nonetheless for i was then made to lie down and moments later, while the newbies and the doc stood observing me, i was told to wait for the novel sensation of being sensation-less from the waist down.

when i said that i could feel pins and needles up and down my legs (not what i would call sensation-less) they said good, i should not be able to move my legs. immediately, i wanted to cross them and i had an itch to scratch.

being immobile was a terrible feeling. the painkiller was nothing like what i thought it would be. as pleasant as sinking in quicksand.

i was then given an oxygen mask (this is supposed to be good for the baby) but when i put it on i began hyperventilating. i felt suffocated, as if i was being boxed in and the little railing round the bed was hemming me in like a coffin's walls.

i took out the mask but when the doc came back and asked why i did that i told him i couldn't breathe and (because i was a tad hysterical) said that i wished i had a general anaesthetic done instead. so he asked one of the newbies to put in oxygen tubes (instead of the mask) and with the little plastic things in each nostril i was soon breathing easier. it didn't hurt either when the doc proceeded to give me a calming drug. i think it was morphine. it made me drowsy and calmer.

we then waited, while i lay there like a laidback, doped out hippie. and waited. my gynae/ob was delayed by another operation she had to perform, plus i was the last scheduled op for the day.

finally though (half an hour later i think) i was trundled into the op theatre. and it was like an episode of e.r. or some similar medical programme when the camera shows the p.o.v. of the patient as he/she gets wheeled in for surgery. surreal...far out.

then i knew why they call it an operating theatre. a huge echoey room, very stainless steel and amphitheatre-like with a centre contraption of huge lights hanging from the ceiling. i was to be the star of this show. or rather, my doc was.

not long later a hub-unit wearing a ridiculous shower cap and garbed in the same green nursing outfit as the orderlies walked in and was beside me (to my left behind my head) holding my hand and murmuring in a nervous undertone that i was going to be alright.

before that though, one of the docs asked if i wanted to see what was going on. (hell no!) so they put up the little curtain shielding me from the bloody business down there.

thus, it was a little drama played out behind closed curtains. i could hear what was going on and could feel the tugs and zippings that were being carried out. however, i chose to block all by thinking only of cuddly kittens and puppies and how lovely it would be to hold my baby.

after another interminably long time and lots of mutterings between the docs and nurses and what seemed like a cooking demo going on, my doc pulled out a huge brick-like something and i heard her exclaim, "oh she's a big baby." then the blood-curdling screams. that went on and on and didn't stop till our little baby was taken out of the op theatre. stating the obvious, my doc said, "well, she definitely has a good set of lungs."

i couldn't help it. i cried. the tears freely flowed...from relief and happiness. but mostly from relief. an instantaneous feeling of release and i thought: hallelujah, joy to the world, i don't have to worry about what i eat any longer! she's safe! oh my god, she's a really loud baby! will she be this loud all the time?!

hub-unit went to observe what the nurses were doing to the bub and then he followed our baby out as they had to put her in the icu ward for warming. she being a premmie and all they also had to observe her a bit.

i was left in the op theatre while the doc did the cleaning up, i suppose: getting whatever yucky business it is out of me and sewing me up. after some time i was wheeled to an anteroom. i can't remember what they did to me there. i suppose i was given some other drugs, but half an hour later i was in a proper room, waiting for hub-unit to show.

our baby weighed in at 3kg, a very healthy weight for a premmie, and hubby reported that she could room in with me in a few hours' time. he then showed me the pictures he took on the digital camera. not the most flattering of pics but i was glad she had chubby cheeks and seemed like a fair creature.

anyway, that's how baby leah robin (it took us a while before we settled on that name combination and in that order) came into our world.