"Jen...about Hayden's birthday?"
"Yes?"

There have been cleaners over nearly every day preparing the house for Hayden's birthday. My mother has been planning crepe paper curtains hanging with sweets. I'm using my bonus to clear the catering costs.

"What do you think...*excited pause* of telling everyone...NOT to bring any presents?"

Now he looks so pleased with himself.

Breathe. Confusion. Breathe. More confusion.

"N-n-no. They can bring presents."

WHY would I call up 80 people and persuade them not to bring any presents? I love my baby! I want him to have presents!

Is it just me? Or are there other people who are picky about who's on their Facebook list? I don't care if you're on my Friendster, cos, well, who uses that thing nowadays? But, on my Facebook I have pictures of my family, and my baby, and my friends, I have wall posts, which may or may not (mostly not) be private.

And I don't want people on my list if I haven't uttered a single word to them in my life. Especially if we're in the same company, and (I know for certain) my Facebook information (as well as everyone else's) is your gossip fodder.

It means I have to take the link to this page away from my Facebook. It means I have to screen what pictures I put online. It means I no longer have a right to look shocked when you can tell me exactly what my baby looks like now. I feel like I'm giving away stalking rights. I just wish there was some way I could get an injunction.

But of course, somewhere along the line, after approvals have been sent and re-sent, I click "Accept"...and waive my rights to the privacy I've enjoyed for the past year.

Yes, my baby has lots of hair. No, I didn't get him hair implants. Now, please excuse me. I have to go.

Ian's out late tonight. He's been for the promotion dinner, and after that they went clubbing. I know there are some people who would wholeheartedly disapprove of a husband (and father) going clubbing, without his wife...but he sounded so happy, and he almost NEVER goes out, I felt as happy as he did, when he called me to tell me.

Elaine did invite me to the Hennessy night, free flow of Cognac all night long! And a very, VERY hefty entrance fee, which would be on her free passes. But it didn't sound too appealing to me. Clubbing, and alcohol has never been my thing. Nor has coffee, tea, piercings, smoking, dancing, etc. I honestly just like staying at home, just chilling out. So I just lent her the dress [which I spent an hour or so wearing, lounging on the couch, just saying goodbye to it (and wondering what her face would look like if she knew I spilt my dinner on it)]. Anyway, it looks fantastic on her!

And I have a million things to do, at any one time. This has to be the first time I've updated in months.

It's a Friday night and Hayden's not here*. I've just spent one night in, chatting on MSN, watching Rent with my sister. We ordered McDs. And seriously, it feels like a day at the spa. Every inch of my body feels sooooo relaxed, just knowing that tonight I can get some sleep.

*He's at the childminders'. My aunt (also my childminder) took about 2 weeks off to go to Shanghai, and we had him home. But she came home yesterday, so she owes us this weekend, as she told us specifically she'd rather we add on days than deduct it from her salary. So stop judging me. Yes, I still love my baby (who's taken to pinching the windpipe of anyone who's carrying him), and he's coming home tomorrow.

I'm also getting my wisdom tooth taken out tomorrow, which I resent, as I've barely recovered from the terror of the childbirth incident. On the other hand, I've also got a big gaping ulcer in my mouth, where a tooth should be, and, coincidentally, the size of a tooth as well. The inside of the hole is filled with pus and blood. The inside of my stomach is filled with antibiotics and painkillers. So I don't really have a choice.

What makes easy (or at least, tolerable) parenting? The old couple next to Ian and I at the post-natal classes clearly thought it was maturity, very well beyond years. Or at least, we gathered it to be so, from their whispery, gossipy actions and demeaning glances. But at least, I'll be jumping around, laughing at Hayden's 10th birthday party, NOT shuffling around, grimacing.

After giving it some thought, one of my first answers was:

You have to be someone who doesn't hold grudges.

Babies will wake you up at insane hours of the night, all night. They will be hungry at midnight, refuse to eat. Wake up starving at 3 AM, refuse to eat, want to play, and wake up, again, famished at 6 AM (but will negotiate to playing "Pretend-Falling-Off-The-Table"). And in between, taking an hour to get back to sleep. They will throw your carefully prepared carrots all over the place. They will blow cereal on your face, and spit water on your clothes.

And after all that, you have to be still prepared, with dreary eyes, to love them, calmly feed them, play with them, laugh at them, create new jokes and games and kiss them with all your energy and vigour, as if you've just woken up from a 12 hour sleep.

I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but we thought Hayden was a strange baby, cos first of all, he doesn't cry very much (and Ian remarks that our boy's a real man). Even when he gets jabbed, its just for a second, then its all over. For some jabs, the newer ones that don't sting, he doesn't cry at all. He has a higher pain threshold than me, and he's not even 4 months old yet. I've been putting of renewing the Hep B vaccine for ages.

Second of all, he DEFINITELY scolds people. Just a small warning sound, and then his face looks as innocent as ever. And when you yell at him, he pretends he doesn't hear. *hmpf* He's starting a bit young on the rebellious act.

He seems to be changing every single week we take him home. I love the weekends and I can't wait for them to come. The weekend before last, he was wonderful. He played calmly, watched tv and laughed tons. And last weekend, he was demanding to be carried and walked 24/7! Then he wanted to be carried by specific people. Then he wanted to be carried and walked in the garden, and started crying angrily whenever we put him down.

Hope he's a good baby this weekend though. Can't wait.

"I sympathize, I really do. To have a family at such a young age..."

*Looks sympathetically into the distance.*

"Well. I sympathize..."

Said one of the partners (during an open training session).

And I am still wondering what all the sympathy is for.

There were 30 other people in the room. But I was thinking:

"But I feel as though I'm doing just enough. Just exactly how I want my life to be. I want to wake up everyday with a million things to do, its a challenge to see how much I can finish by the end of the day (i.e. All). Doing nothing, I feel so bored."

I wish I updated more. I wish there were more records of my life here.

I'm going through a tumultous and fairly fast-paced time right now, and everytime I look back at my last entry, it feels like its been years. It's a great sign, it means that almost every day there is learning, thinking and most of all, moving. I'm busier than I've ever been before. During the 10 or so months I spent carrying Hayden around, it was imperative to slow down, but now I want to get going and go anywhere, somewhere. Every new day, waking up is like a fresh challenge, to fit in as many things as possible. I want to finish my audit, I want to cover all eventualities, I want every single document, I want to type faster, I want to see my baby, I want to move my FD, I want to bug my father to let me open that CDS, I want to get Ian to open the CDS, I want to study more, and learn more, spend more time with my sister, buy my family more presents, talk more to Elaine, buy a new bag...

The urgency is invigorating, and every night when I finally sink down on my bed, my eyes can barely open, and I feel more fulfilled than I ever have been before.

3 months are technically supposed to be a milestone in baby development. Can't see anything substantial yet, which is great beacuse it means I haven't been missing much. All Hayden does is come over on the weekends, and that's not enough.

He's also stopped taking night milk, and finally Ian and me get some rest at night without having to wake up a couple of times! Well, to be honest, we did wake up a couple of times right on schedule (very well trained!) to waste about 8 ounces of milk. But luckily the little guy sleeps till quite late in the morning. I don't know how babies have a natural in-built alarm clock, to habitually wake up at around 8 AM. Hayden does, and 8 AM is play time, and it has to be done in a play area, which means in the living room and NOT the bedroom, or he'll keep complaining.

He's also taken to scolding people. An indignant: "AH!" when he feels over-poked/pulled or just plain wants to be carried around in peace. (And then he looks self-satisfied and smug when he gets his way.) He hasn't scolded the childminder or his parents...yet... I hope he doesn't have a temper when he grows up though...I'm no expert, but I dont think its quite normal for tiny babies to be scolding grown adults at 3 months old.

He's quite a complainer, which probably doesn't sound very good, but at any rate, its better than a crier. Hayden really doesn't cry much, even when he gets his jabs. He just makes funny: "Eh eh eh..." sounds and squirms around. My boy is completely fearless :)



Hayden on his way to the childminders'. I hate sending him back, and I'm always putting it off. He loves sitting in his carseat and laughed when we put him in it the first time. Then he cried when we carried him out.



And its amazing to see him move stuff. He can pick up things now, and fling them around. And he looks completely thrilled. The essence of that isn't quite captured here, he's just intent on staring at the camera.

I've been back at work for maybe 10 days... I'd love to say that everything's going really well, but its low-peak so I shouldn't really make any conclusions right now.

Being back at work is definitely nice, but Hayden is with his childminder during weekdays, and we go to see him at night, because she lives quite close. But due to some problems (and also to see the brother and sister in law much more!) we've moved to Damansara. Of course I miss Hayden (especially after Wednesdays when it slides towards the end of the week) but everyone expects me to be yearning to be with my baby day and night... That's not the stage that I'm at, but it makes me seem mean if I say so. :p

There are lots of great things about living with Adeline and Henry, as there are with living at home, and I love shuttling between the two like a nomad, living solely out of 4 bags:
1. work bag
2. laptop
3. E&Y bag for clothes
4. Fitness First shoe bag

It's like getting back to the old Hakka roots. Whoo!

And another plus point, is I met Sabrina yesterday in between her donation-collecting, and today I'm meeting Elaine, where we'll have *cough* wedges for lunch because she has a terrible condition with her teeth.

Worse than the WW1 trench virus, anytime.

And missing Hayden very much already. I keep thinking he's at the childminder's crying his eyes out.

But for all I know, he could be fast asleep or busily smiling and charming everyone in the house.

This is officially my third day without the confinement lady. And aside from the two times I accidentally banged Hayden's head (!) it's going a lot better than I expected.

The first day without Annie was quite bad, because Hayden missed her so much and kept looking for her. Feeding was terrible, as was bath time, and he didn't want to play at all. Gradually it gets better, and Hayden gets more used to Ian and me.

It wouldn't be so easy without Ian. Officially I'm supposed to go to sleep at 8 AM (although I haven't really made it till at least 9.30) and I wake up at 3 to take over, which is when Ian heads off to bed.

Not bad for someone who got yelled at by her confinement lady for being someone who "would not being able to stand a day!" Neh, stupid confinement lady. And I know you were secretly throwing away my breast milk.

I've been away from work for...almost 2 months, and I don't miss it at all! :) I have about a month left till my maternity ends and I can't think how I'm going to drag myself out of the house, and away from Hayden. He's a lot of fun, he laughs now when you play with him, and he has all these funny actions. He scolds people a lot and makes these weird grumbling noises. I don't do much all day, except bum around, going online... Of course looking after Hayden is a huge part of my routine, but there's a lot I can do in between his naps and feeds (but not if leaving the house is part of my agenda). I'd be kidding if I said there weren't times when I think, just for a second: "Hey, I could do this for my whole life..."

Something arose at work a couple of days ago, and I totally panicked. I've been quite panicky about work stuff as I've been away for so long and I really feel like I'm missing out. Its an imperative training programme, and I'm missing out. I keep worrying that I won't be able to handle the work after promotion, seeing as I've only had 9 months of experience in comparison to an entire year that the rest have. And I did something I shouldn't have...my mind just blocked out cos I panicked and I wanted everything to go smoothly. It was only a small problem anyway, and I fixed it in a matter of minutes (by UNdoing the work I'd done...what a waste of time!), so there were no repercussions. No one saw it, but the partner, who was so nice about it. He even referred to the mistake as something "we" did wrong. Haha... Not we!

Of course, being in audit, I'm supposedly bound by ACCA ethical code, I can't even say WHAT I shouldn't have done, I can't say what went wrong, I shouldn't even disclose that anything went wrong at all, even though it bothers me so much.

I love my company! E&Y rocks! :)

And I hope it stays like that.

How long will it take?



I can fit into my purple "M" size dress, but I can't fit into the blue "S" one I bought for the Ernst & Young dinner...still a little bit of shoulder fat that needs to disappear. I don't dare to go to the gym just yet, cos Stephanie Chan told me a story about one of her stitches, which "unstitched" itself after a lot of movement.

My wedding ring is still stuck on my finger too. I wonder how long it'll take to lose the finger fat...maybe I'll have to do finger exercises.

My sister and Ian are in unanimous agreement that I should "lay off the Twiggies". Boo. :(

At Hayden's first paediatric visit, he brought an eager entourage of 4 (5, himself included). After waiting listlessly for forty minutes for an elusive paediatrician, I decided I may as well have been waiting for the famous obstetrician, and trooped upstairs in a needlessly (and tragically) happy fashion. The obstetrician, unrewarding my patience, gave me no warning upon STICKING HER HAND UP MY HEALING TORTURED STITCHES.

Uttered discomforts were cruelly unheeded, and she proceeded to twist her hands around in the MOST uncomfortable fashion. My poor stitches took another 2 days to return to their pre-examined state. Upon my request, she also prescribed some painkillers, which are unopened as of yet, but I will definitely bring them to my next appointment [which I am dreading (obviously)].

My doctor sneakily refuses to tell me how many stitches I have, as it could possibly bring some psychological effect on the healing process. But my sister-in-law, Adeline, who is wonderful and knows everything(!) told her mother, who told Ian, who told me, that my stitches go horizontally as well as vertically! She was at the doctor's with me, but stood outside the whole time, and wouldn't have been able to see... I've come to the conclusion that there's nothing else to it, she just must be magic. :)

Yes, I am risking blindness by being online, better go now. (Edit: I think the blindness is crap, by the way, but I'm just following it to make people [my father] happy.)

Note: This is NOT a copy-pasted entry!

Ian helped me set up an internet connection downstairs, and today is officially my first day on the internet.

But I can't use it when my father gets home, because my grandmother has been telling him that pregnant people will go blind when they use computers/read/strain eyesight during confinement.

We spent 3 days in the hospital. I had stitches, which no one told me was pretty much a compulsory thing from the natural birth. Because of the stitches, rising from a lying position to a sitting position was quite painful. The hospital beds were comfortable, and I didn’t come out of bed much, except for Hayden’s feeds, where the nurses would wheel him in and out in the middle of the night. I didn’t even get up to go to the toilet, my bladder had either shut down temporarily, or was traumatized into silence, which was fine with me, as my stitches were in the way. However, I got an enema later on, which wasn’t so fun. Ian slept next to me on the couch and he’d wake up every 2-3 hours as well.



Our hospital experience was wonderful and I was happiest here. The nurses were constantly on call, and they arrived very fast. The food was served regularly and the service was as good as 5 star hotel service. We had constant visitors in the afternoon, and mostly people arrived in the evenings. I was always tired, and usually not in much of a position to entertain, but remembering all those people there is definitely one of my better memories, and I’m glad they were there to share it with us.

In the night, it was just Ian, me and Hayden. The head nurse made her rounds in the morning, and was surprised to see me pulled away from the call bell. Ian had pulled my bed towards his sofa in the middle of the night. We’d got quite used to sleeping next to each other, so the distance of a few meters wasn’t so comfortable.

When we arrived home, there was so much to do: rearranging furniture, changing sheets, doing laundry. I felt so well, and I actually started to do a lot of stuff I probably shouldn’t have. By the afternoon, I started getting pretty bad stitch pains, and got my sister and my mum to rearrange my room. I took all my meals in my room, and ate them lying on my side, so that I wouldn’t antagonize the stitches.

Although it was really important to get enough rest, I couldn’t relax properly for the next few days. I still needed get up every 4 hours to get milk out, which meant getting up twice in the middle of the night, and sleeping for 3 hours at a time. The thing that really upset me was that I couldn’t go out to see my baby, I couldn’t carry him or feed him, and although I kept hearing his noises, I didn’t know what was going on, and I really felt like I was missing out. Everything was left to the confinement lady, who did an excellent job, but it meant that I didn’t know a thing about my baby, and he didn’t feel comfortable with me, despite the first three days we spent together.

Despite that, my situation is quite comfortable in comparison to other Chinese confinements. I’m allowed slight air conditioning and fan set at 3 and Annie (reluctantly) even lets me wash my hair once every three days! Of course, her rule was originally once a week, but after two days I keep scratching my head…and Ian jokingly refers to my hair as “dreadlocks”. This doesn’t go down so well, because I’m already grouchy and irritated from enduring an oily, itchy head.



I also have to keep to a strict confinement diet. My aunt cooked me a ginger wine chicken as a preview…which I hated. But Annie is a wonderful cook, and I love all the ginger dishes she prepares for me, including the dates water, which is supposed to replenish my blood. I’m sure a month ago, I would have never have touched dates water, and before my pregnancy I would definitely have pushed all meat to the side of my plate. Confinement does strange things.

NOTE: This is still a copy-pasted entry! She still can't come online!

I’ve been away for a few days and Elaine told me some of you guys sent your wishes over to her. Everything is fine, and I’m finally back home with a working internet connection!

I woke up around 3.45 AM on the morning of the 22nd, and felt little stomachaches rising and falling every 4 minutes or so. I didn’t get ready to go to the hospital because I was so afraid they were just Braxton Hicks and not really contractions…and I’d go to the hospital, have the nurses laugh at me and then send me back. So I waited around for the next half hour. The stomachaches kept their regular pace, so I woke Ian up and we started to get ready, packing the last of our stuff. But despite all our planning, we still didn’t have everything we needed for the next 3 days at the hospital. The mittens vanished at the last moment, and we had oily hair until Elaine bought shampoo for us. We also didn’t have enough underwear…but happily enough, none of our visitors could tell!

Thankfully, the roads were all clear on the way to KL, and I arrived in the next 15 minutes. The check in was fairly calm and I was offered a wheelchair on the way to the labour ward, which was a bit silly since I was walking with no problem, and even carrying stuff. I was still skeptical as to whether I really was in labour, as the contractions didn’t seem to be changing. I didn’t know they don’t change so fast.



Confirming the birth took half an hour. I was attached to a machine, which tracked the heartbeat of the baby on one side, and on the other, the strength and frequency of the contractions. At the end of the 30 minutes, the nurse came in, confirmed I really was in labour, and so we checked in (like a hotel!), I changed into the hospital clothes she gave me, and then we started our 14 ½ hour wait. My father wasn’t allowed into the labour room, he felt insulted and quite unimportant, as he placed himself defiantly in a chair in the corner. But the nurses turned a blind eye to it (they may as well have, there was nowhere else to go anyway) and he stayed until he was ready to go to work.

There was nothing much to be occupied with, no newspapers were out yet, and there wasn’t anything on TV. The other ladies in the hospital provided us with our only entertainment: they let out bloodcurdling screams from time to time, and as soon as they stopped, we heard violent baby cries. Other than that, even though there was nothing to do, knowing Hayden was on his way made everything exciting.

Then there were funny things like enemas to do in the time being. I won’t describe it, I’ll just say it’s a funny feeling. I hear Ewan McGregor does it before his premieres, so its so Hollywood. Besides that, all I did basically was sleep, wake up and walk around.

By the time 11 AM arrived, I started getting lower backaches, and Ian was helping me rub them down. The nurses kept coming in to check on my progress, and seeing as I wasn’t screaming or crying, suggested that I go on the drip to intensify the contractions. However, I felt like I couldn’t go on any without pain relief, and they told me that a good solution would be pethodine, which would put me to sleep for a few hours.

In the confusion, I never did get connected to the drip (but we still got charged for it!), and slept off watching the Disney channel. From that moment on, Ian sat on the chair next to my bed, and he never left. He stayed there as spent the next few hours drifting in and out of dreamland, and I occasionally woke up to ask him a few sleepy questions like, “Did you see the rabbit?” and “Is it from Teen magazine?” But by afternoon, the contractions were coming stronger, no longer enabling me to sleep, and I’d started using nitrous oxide (laughing gas) to relieve them. The dilation at that moment was still only 1-2 cm, and I could only give birth when it reached 10. A long, long wait ahead.



I was still woozy, when my mother walked in, and long past the pleasant rabbit dreaming stage. (Mothers are, quite unfairly, allowed in the labour room! ) So I had my mum and Ian to get me through the rest of the ordeal. The combined effects of pethodine and nitrous oxide made me incredibly weak and sleepy. I would be mildly awake until a contraction came, and then I’d grab at the gas to lessen it. But the gas immediately knocked me out after a few breaths, and the cycle would repeat. It only seemed to me like 10 minutes, but looking at the clock it must have been 3 hours.

My dilation was inching along very, very slowly. The contractions were intensifying rapidly. I kept having the urge to push the baby out, but as the dilations were only 3 cm, then later, 5cm, it was important to hold it in, but not easy, especially as I was getting sleepier. 2 sleepy pain relievers didn’t appear to be such a good idea… Wonder why the doctors said it was the most common combination?

To make a long story short, that is the worst part of labour: the slow dilation amidst the increasing urge to push out. When you are fully dilated, and the pushing is under way, it is actually no problem.

My doctor burst in at 5.50 PM, sweeping in as she normally does.

You can’t feel the baby actually being pushed out, which sucks cos you have to wait for the doctors and midwives to tell you about your progress, and you definitely can’t see for yourself. The only part of the baby you have to push out is the head, and from then on the shoulders and your placenta will expel themselves. I wasn’t let on, but for Hayden’s delivery, he was facing upwards and this was dangerous because it meant his nose and face were pressed against the wall. In this position, the doctors may have needed to perform a forceps, but I managed to push him out in less than 3 minutes (and got compliments on strong muscles).

After the head is pushed out, you feel something squirming and twisting around inside. It doesn’t tickle, but it’s a funny feeling, and very comforting, because that’s when you know all the hard work is over.



My labour lasted 14 ½ hours. If I opted for the drip (which maybe, now that I think of it, I should have) it would have been cut to around 11 hours instead, and I probably wouldn’t have needed all these stitches. I still don’t know how many stitches I have, because I don’t really want to ask. All I know is that my doctor was stitching for a long, long, very uncomfortable eternity. It didn’t hurt, but I’m squeamish about stitches and things like that, and I was much too tired to freak out and scream my head off. I didn’t scream during the labour, it makes much more sense to conserve your energy for the real work. Besides, if you’re a compulsive screamer the nurses always get a good laugh.

NOTE: This is actually Elaine copy-pasting what Jenny wrote, because she can't reach a computer with a working internet connection yet, so she won't be able to reply to your comments for a while!

One more week to go till the official due date!

As the time gets nearer I'm feeling more anxious...What if he doesn't want to come out? But as everyone says, that's quite silly...but I don't feel like I'm someone about to give birth. I feel as though I could stay in this condition forever, because it doesn't feel strange at all. Of course, The Company would not agree, as I am officially on holiday, bumming at home and not in the office, and when the baby comes I'll be getting maternity leave and receiving pay anyway.

On the other hand, what has been bothering me the most is the fact that after this, there's someone else I'll have to share my husband with, and that person has full right to demand his attention as much as I have, and maybe more! I already feel like Ian and me haven't had enough time together. When we got together and also the previous year when we met, we were in each other's company for the whole day, and often for the whole weekend as well. It was in total, almost 3 years and there are still so many things we haven't had the chance to enjoy together yet.

But maybe there is no perfect time, maybe even 10 years down the line, I would still come to the conclusion that Ian and me haven't been together enough: we haven't been on enough holidays, we haven't enjoyed our working life enough, we haven't been to enough fancy restaurants, we haven't lived together long enough... The list could probably be endless...and by then it may already be too late for a lot of things we could have had.

On the bright side, there is lots of time to spend together, years and years...and hopefully, it will never feel like enough (because that's the stage where every movement is just a ploy to "get away from that idiot", my grandparents were masters at it!).

This weekend Body Shop is having a 10-70% sale with extra 10% off for members, and that's where I am going to be!

Ian's 24th birthday is today, and I was really hoping Hayden would arrive today as well. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like its going to happen. Even if I did start going into labour right now, it would probably stretch into the early morning, making it tomorrow anyway. And if I'm being honest, I don't feel like I'm ready for it to happen today. But then, even though my bag's all packed, I don't even feel like someone who's going to give birth at all. I've gotten so used to being pregnant, I don't even feel myself as being anything out of the ordinary.

I've discovered the funny thing about babies is that when you say you have contractions, you immediately stop getting them! My contractions have suddenly gotten quite minimal in the past few days, which I suppose most people would think is excellent news, but I do want them quite regularly, as regular contractions signal a birth in the next few days or else quite soon, and also give you a chance to practice your breathing techniques for the real thing.

No contractions, however, generally signify that the birth is quite far away, and I'd hate to get to the stage where I'd need a birth induction. I was surfing around a few pregnancy journals a couple of nights ago, where more than half of them needed an injection to induce the birth. Mainly the injections were given in cases where the induction was the last chance for the woman to have a natural birth, as the babies usually reached more than 4 kg. It was mostly American mothers, I think... For Asians, the optimal weight would be lower. I heard the midwife talking to a Malay lady in the hospital the other day, who did actually need a Caesarean for a 4 kg baby.

On the upside, since the birth doesn't appear to be so apparent, there's the small matter of a CAKE on hold in Secret Recipe, and peaches for dessert.