How I Officially Became a Mother

On Friday night, when I took my pre-bedtime pee break, I noticed my discharge had turned a dull brown, kind of like the kind you get at the end or beginning of a period. A tiny wave of panic went through me: was this "it"? The show that you get indicating that labour was imminent.

When I got out of the loo, The Hubbers was already fast asleep. I took out my copy of "What to Expect When You're Expecting" and flipped to the relevant page. Labour could set in in a matter of hours, but it could also stretch to days, it read. I reached out and tapped The Hubbers.

"Hey. I have brownish discharge."

"Huh... what?"

"It could be a sign of labour."

"Huh?! Then how?"

"Dunno leh."

"Tell Dr Ching tomorrow..."

"... Ok."

Hmph.

The next morning at the clinic, I flipped through the book again. It said brownish discharge could be a false alarm. Ok, so maybe I wasn't having my baby yet.

"So, how are you?" Dr Ching's usual opening line.

"Ok... baby's head still hasn't turned down... and yesterday night there was some brownish discharge."

A short pause. "Any contractions?"

"No, nothing yet."

I had my ultrasound scan, which was ultra quick, and then got back down.

"Well, since it has come to this, we might as well get the baby out today."

A stunned silence. The Hubbers and I looked at each other.

"Huh?!"

"Well, then what do you want to do? No point waiting already, it could be anytime. If you wait, you may have one leg come out first, or the cord may drop out, do you want to take that risk or not?"

"But I... "

"You are already at 38 weeks. Do you think it is likely that the baby's head will still turn?"

I started to tear. Noooo! I didn't plan for a c-section! I want a natural birth! I'm afraid of the epidural, the pain after the op, and I feel I have no control whatsoever of something so major that's going to happen to me!

Dr Ching's tone softened a little, and started to reason with me a little more gently. The truth was, I knew I didn't have much choice. Which mother would want to risk her baby's precious life after carrying it inside of her for 9 full months? Also, even if I could wait, Chye couldn't. He had a plane to catch the night itself. If I didn't opt for the surgery, chances of him missing Baby K's arrival was very high.

So we discussed surgery options, the nurses made arrangements for an anesthetist and pediatrician, we made the necessary calls to inform our families, and then went to get our admission papers in order. Yes, I was admitted into the hospital on the spot. The operation was scheduled for that very afternoon.

The Hubbers had to rush home to bring my birthing bag and all the other things I needed for my confinement; he nearly couldn't make it back in time before I had to be wheeled into the operating theatre. Thankfully Baby K's Godma was there to keep me and my nerves company.

I had to undergo the epidural injection on my own first, though, and that was the part that scared me the most. I'm most sensitive about my spine. At salons, I always squirm when they shave the back of my head because the vibrations travel down to my spine, so what more a needle on the operating table? I was scared to bits. It didn't help that the OT was cold, which exacerbated the shivering that was brought on by the jab. Not too long after I was asked questions on pain levels using a pin prick as a gauge. But what freaked me out (and what made them increase the dosage of the medication) was when I felt a scalpel being drawn across my skin.

"I can still feel it! I can feel the knife!!" I panicked. And then I was knocked out.

The next thing I knew, The Hubbers was seated next to me, calling out my name, and the operation was already well on its way. I felt tugging and pulling in the lower half of my body, and almost too quickly, I felt a large mass being removed from my womb.

"She's out!" I said, or something to that effect. I can't really recall.

Then, the life changing wail of Baby K rang out in the room. I remember being amazed by how loud her cries were. Next, Plop! Someone placed Baby K's pale wet body on my chest. The anesthetist offered to take a picture. I managed to muster the brightest smile I could amidst my drowsiness. And a quick peck on her cheek later, they whisked her away to take her weight, measurements, and basic tests. The Hubbers went along with her.

And that was it. Baby K had officially arrived.

What happened next was rather anti-climatic, involving me lying sedately on the operating table while Dr Ching sewed me up while chatting about politics with the anesthetist. There was a lot of wheeling and waiting (and shivering), wheeling and waiting, before I was finally pushed back out, but the entire operation apparently only took about half an hour.

And that was it! How I officially became a mother.

Edit: It was the pediatrician who took our photo, not the anesthetist. I was heavily drugged, ok?