Come out come out to our welcoming arms.

Bennnnnn, if you are able to decipher and discern anything at all please end my enduring pelvis pain and enter this world. I am prepared, well never entirely ready because it still is a risk each time and there are always enjeux... It is never just a routine 'in and out' process.

I am still scared out of my wits and apprehensive and though I know more or less what to expect it does not render it more trifling or trite.

It is still an event I look forward to with dread and embrace with longing at the same time.

It is a defining moment.

So Ben it is time for you to leave the security and warmth of my womb and to embrace this brave new world.

The waiting game

I am on the one hand impatiently looking forward to Ben's imminent birth because the constant pelvic floor pain is not too far removed from the post-partum painful souvenirs I have from past deliveries and on the other I want to hold on for as long as I possibly can because once she is here there will be sleep deprivation galore for at least 3 months if not more.


I am trying to hold out until after the HDV auction of which I want to participate in. Ben is not supposed to be aware of such precarious timing. She will come when she is ready but I do hope that she will at least have the self-control to grace this oft troubled world at an opportune time for her mum so that her mum will not have to endure and suffer more than necessary.

I prepare myself psychologically for 'Sleep ----Interrupted' and 'Dealing with the immediate fore Jealous sibling namely Baby Mini M aka Taz'

Moy is the master of disorder

My long backlog of arts and crafts projects I would like to do with my kids are piling up.

There is a Dora play-doh castle which has to be built.

There is play dough that I can fabricate and they in turn create a wondrous number of objects as their flight of fancy partake.

There is a wooden Robin Hood castle that we can build together as well as Lego structures and a farm...

There are countless mugs and numerous other objects waiting to be painted.

Alas there is a burgeoning abundance of projects that I have put on hold for two reasons: my fatigue and more importantly Baby Mini M's interference each and every time I actually want to initiate any task.

I also have difficulty teaching Petit Suisse because Baby Mini M is always stirring and decides that the perfect time to climb onto my lap is whenever I am in the middle of partaking in an activity: educational or crafty.

Baby M is still in that impossible age when he does not play individually but cannot partake in complicated arts and crafts nor engage in conversation or pay attention long enough to get into any activity wholeheartedly. He plays with toys for five minutes and gets readily bored. It does get better when he gets to the stage where I can involve him in activities and teach him language and mathematics.

I do feel slightly guilty for not being able to juggle all three kids without resorting to the easy option of allowing them the pleasure of vegetating like a couch potato..I attempt to educate them but with Baby M ever so young and always on the verge of interrupting and disrupting/destroying whatever we are doing (not deliberately) because he is simply too young and unknowing to realise and my nagging, constant and ever so present pelvic floor/bassin pain there are days where I opt for the easy way and let the kids play a lil on the Wii or the computer or let them watch a DVD which normally is off limits.

Prolifique maman malgré elle !

I have been through pregnancy 3 times and am now more than two-thirds of the way through my fourth. It does not get any easier or better. I do however can safely claim that I am more experienced than first time mothers and have some notions of what to expect for the birth.

I want to recount all my pregnancies and my three deliveries so far...as to make sure that in the future my children will know what their mum went through...so they themselves are equipped with some faint notion of how they came into the world.

I will go through each pregnancy and delivery in a manner most accurate as to how I remember them.


Petit Suisse : I had four and a half months of morning sickness, nausea, metallic taste and fatigue, all the hallmarks of symptoms of a pregnancy. It got better after five months although the fatigue stayed and this is something that is common with all of the pregnancies I had. I walked everywhere and one night after having traversed the Leman lake and it was 3 almost 4 weeks earlier than my expected due date my water broke at the wee hour of the morning probably around 2-3 am ish. It was impressive as I had lost all control and wetted/soaked the bed. in amniotic liquid. Shrek called the maternity and we promptly dashed for the hospital. The contractions came soon after we arrived and the intensity heightened and amplified. Beforehand I had heard some horror stories about the epidural and was reluctant at first to ask but the intensity of the contractions got the better of me and I decided to greenlight the epidural injection.
Delivery time came and I pushed for a fruitless hour. I had an inexperienced first-time midwife who had just assisted one or two births. She told me to push, push and push some more and Petit Suisse's hair kept making an appearance so he was yo-yoing without actually making his grand entrance. The Dr had to then interfere and she did so with the vaccuum (ventouse). I pushed during a big contraction and she pulled with the vacuum violently and brutally. She could have employed more finesse or been gentler but as a result I tore and had to be sewn up post-partum. I did not have an episiotomy which studies have shown not to be a better option than to tear naturally. So I was stitched up while the epidural was wearing off and I was now feeling the culmination of pain from the tearing and the labour. I did however endure the excruciating pain without screaming hence Shrek although present did not attest to the fact that it hurt.
One of my biggest gripes at that stage was he did not seem all that sympathetic for he saw it as pretty much routine and painless because I was not screaming and hurling like a headless chicken. He then took it upon himself to take up parole and become my spokesperson (my French was miserably not up to par at that point ) and explaining to people that

"It was fine, nothing out of the ordinary and quite alright by all standards."

What he did not know was that I suffered in silence for almost two months because the stitches hurt like hell everytime I urinated or walked... I kept up a brave face because my pain threshold was high and soldiered on without hinting at the physical laceration and agony I was enduring. Shrek had no inkling of what I was going through and quite frankly I felt indignation and disgust that he could nonchalantly tell people that it was fine blah blah blah when in fact he did not know what was really going on- it was misleading.

I even smiled in the photos taken...without wincing because it is my personal reflex to do so. Maybe I mask my pain by smiling so brightly in photos... Sometime I regret not letting my true feelings shine through.

I felt dissapointed, isolated and alone and had the baby blues accentuated by an incomprehensive midwife. She was not to know because I did not speak French and was not one to complain or demand service.

I cried many a silent tear to sleep. I felt that having one loyal suppporter was better than a dozen of half-assed supporters. I did not think that people cared about how I was doing or if I was in pain or suffered... all they cared about was the fact that I delivered a baby boy who was in good health. I did not feel like I counted as a woman or person, just merely a vessel and birthing instrument.

The fact is that I would have preferred my mum being there. In the old days the husbands or partners were not allowed in the delivery rooms... My mum had been accompanied by a good friend or her sister when she gave birth. I think on the whole it was a uniquely female bonding moment because only one who has been through it herself can sympathise with what the woman in labour is feeling. Men can empathise to a certain degree depending on their penchance for insight but cannot fully appreciate the extent to which pregnancy and birth changes a woman. Shrek's unintentional insensitivity floored me.

Nowadays I say to hell with suffering in silence, that is a misnomer. Being stoic only leads to wallowing in self-pity and resentment.

So I vow to let it be known when people ask me how I am doing the truth even if repeating that I am tired, exhausted and in pain bores even me. Make no mistake about it.

Lil Miss N: my period did not return after Petit Suisse's birth for a year. The first three months of pregnancy was uneventful as I did not exhibit any symptoms that I previously had with Petit Suisse. I did not know and had no suspicions that I had fallen pregnant. My stomach did not change much either which meant it was quite late when I discovered the pregnancy. I had to abruptly severe breastfeeding as advised by the gynocologist because my milk contained an excess of female hormone (estrogen) whilst I am pregnant. Petit Suisse was not impressed as he wailed and cried for two weeks.
Lil Miss N was comfortable in the warmth and safety/security of my womb so she did not want to be birthed. She was 6 days overdue.
I broke my water in the morning and we went to the maternity. I had not dilated that much by this time. Shrek returned home to park the car and he was coming back by bus. The midwife called Shrek to inform him that in fact things were moving faster than we had anticipated and he should hurry back if he did not want to miss Lil Miss N's grand entrance. I had the epidural injection again as per usual habit, this time with a lil bit less hesitance and trepidation.

I had an experienced midwife who guided me because eventhough it was my second time I had not learnt the first time how to properly and efficiently push. She was quite helpful and I felt more reassured as she assisted me and Miss N's head pushed through the threshold after only a few propulsions on my part. It was so fast and I was running the risk of tearing that the midwife told me to hold on and wait. With her head out and her body almost out I felt the urge to push...but had to hold back and this hurt...I screamed a little much to my surprise. I was relieved when I could finally release and she was born.

The post-partum was slightly better than that of Petit Suisse. I think if it was worse I would have been majorly depressed. As it was I returned home for three weeks of house-arrest save the weekend because Shrek had to serve the army for three weeks and as I had a newborn in winter with kneehigh level of snow. It was a particular year where snowfall was unusually abundant. I did not leave the house as I was not equipped or felt fit enough. I had just given birth and taking care of Petit Suisse who was understandably jealous at first and not in the least bit independent and a newborn took its toll(was enough to drive sane women mad)

It passed and things got better as I slowly adapted to the way of life in Geneva. I still have not been able to make as many friends as I would like but that is another problem for another rant.

Baby M: Once again I did not suspect being pregnant. I fell pregnant after returning from an extended four month holiday: three month long stay in Sydney and a month long stay in Vietnam. The first few months were once again uneventful and went by without much notice. The last month leading up to the birth though left me with much pain in the pelvis as Baby M's head was in birth position and it put pressure on my pelvic floor/bassin.

His birth was initiated by the water breakage...as is dictated by precedence. I did not have contractions and stayed a night at the maternity being monitored. Since the water had broken I had to be induced by pills to provoke contractions and hence commence labour.
I once again requested the epidural.
I was assisted this time by the head-midwife who is experienced and pleasant and gentle. She is in fact a friend of Shrek's. She was astonished by the lack of blood when Baby M came. I did not loose any blood whatsoever but more than made up for this later up in the maternity recovery ward when my uterus was pressed and an abundance of clotted blood came rushing out. I felt light-headed and was attended to by the midwives to ensure that uterus contracts properly. I lost quite an impressive amount of blood clots.

I did not enjoy the maternity stays for the three because medically speaking I got the care I needed but missed out on some comforts...and could not get any rest because unfortunately for me I was always in a full capacity room with either snoring mums (they are worse than Shrek) or perturbed newborns.

That sums up my three children's births so far. In resume I would say that the fourth and final pregnancy resembles Baby M's the most with the pelvic floor pain even more intense and acute. Shrek has been meticulously helping out much more so than before. He is more aware and conscious of what I am undergoing.

I will post more about the fourth birth after post-partum.

I want my children to know that I am first and foremost a woman in my own right, capable with an intellectual insight.

I will always savour the lessons my mum taught me and how she stressed the importance of being an independent-financially and intellectually woman. Being a working mum to be valued and counted.

I also want them to know that despite the current trend of mums who give birth and immediately return to work without skipping a beat, I fight against the current and am a full time stay at home mum to endow them with the gift of time, care, attention and love. I would like to educate them and even when I lose my patience and temper would like them to know I always have their best interest at heart and that I do want them to make their own mistakes, follow their own dreams and paths. Whatever they choose to do in life, I am here with Shrek to guide them but not to dictate, to support them without being judgemental (or trying not to be) and to love them unconditionally as best we could. I cannot be the perfect mum because perfection does not exist but I try my best to be the best mum and person I can be so that my children will be proud of me as I hope I will be proud of them despite our differences and likely discord/arguments over certain subjects in time to come.

This is my favourite biblical passage Corinthians 13:4-7 which sums up elegantly how I feel. Oddly enough this is also the passage I chose to read at my wedding.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

It ends on an optimistic note because I believe that dwelling on the positive will make a difference.

Entrapment

Lately I have been feeling especially desperate as I often time and again find myself under self-imposed house arrest much to my dismay.

I have several reasons for being under such a strict regime of house-arrest.
Baby Moy just caught the nasty chicken pox hence I have to limit my outtings to a minimum. It was snowing and the ground was slippery and wet making it risky business for a mum of 3 and 3/4 kids to manœuvre 2 hyperactive toddlers and a pusher. Lastly Sundays are literally Sabbaticals for Geneva-siders (except Shrek who today is working until very late) rendering it pointless to go out when there is nothing open and not a soul to be found roaming the streets...in short not one exciting event to get hyped up about.

Around the time of Little Miss N's birth it was snowing much more heavily. The snow stayed and it was almost knee high and I found myself stuck inside the four walls for weeks on end as Shrek was serving his yearly compulsory term in the Swiss army to carry out his duties as a good citizen. I was frustrated,isolated and felt enclosed and close to breaking point. Who wouldn't when having to deal with a jealous first-born and a crying newborn without any help ?

This time the entrapment is only temporary as I hope to take the kids outdoors and into the wind-swept, frost-bitten cold as soon as is practicable.

Frustrations of a stay at home mum

I have been blessed with the arrival of a newborn. The miracle of life never ceases to amaze. He is a beautiful creature that I never tire of admiring.

Yet I am confronting a dark and sombre period. Winter is here and that in itself brings about a sombre mood.

I seethe with rage everytime a stranger ask 'So what do you do for a living?' quizzically. I struggle with my response. The simple response being that I am a stay at home mum and that has all sorts of negative connotations embedded in it.

I am educated yet I am a particularly young mum with two toddlers and a newborn in tow. This is unusual if not to say a march against the tide and trend of today. It is unheard of that women who have fought so long to gain equality in the workforce with men can now relinquish what they have battled for and regress into the age of women who are nothing more than domesticated cattle who as a matter of course stay at home occupying housework and the raising of children.

I love the luxury of being able to watch my children grow everyday and realise that not many women are as lucky as I. Another part of me long to be able to do something more productive and valued in the ordinary sense, that is use my faculties to affect change and earn my keep at the same time.

I tread on this thin line of being exhilarated and down in the deeps of a self-evaluated worthlessness.

What I dread most is being Mrs ... without any rights to be my own person or woman entitled to being evaluated as a valued employee or credited with a job well done or having a capable intellect. What _I want is to be considered more than a simple minded housewife and uninteresting stay at home mum.
I do miss having a circle of supportive network here in Geneva. I have yet to establish links with the natives that go beyond mere acquaintances or convenient friends. I have found however a few friends whom I can sympathise/empathise and discuss my frustrations with. However I do not have a pillar of strength which is paramount to staying positive during this emotionally charged and tumultous (hormonally speaking) time. My husband throughout the three pregnancies have not been a tower of strength. I felt that he either spoke for me as if I needed a spokesperson before, during and post-partum. I can say that I've had the episiotomy stitches, childbirth pain and post-partum uterus contractions à travers the three pregnancies. I think it is not intentional on his part but he is ultimately a man and cannot empathise with what is uniquely a feminine experience that is different for every woman and different still with each new pregnancy. The husband made jokes which at the moment of excruciating pain did not seem all that funny to me. Maybe my sense of humour failed to see the light in the tunnel of pain but needless to say that his way of trying to lighten the mood did not go down well with me agonising.
What I really dislike is the post-partum question: So how are you ? Was it very painful? to which my husband answers with a decisive 'Oh it went fine, a birth punctuated with nothing out of the ordinary'. I would like to be able to tell it from my perspective so people do not mistake that the birth was all dandy indeed without any hitches. The end result though overrides all that pain and perhaps I do forget that it was hell when I was experiencing childbirth pain that stretched my pelvic floor however elastic it might be.

The lack of mental stimulation I experience while interacting with the kids is refreshing for its intense freshness and disarming innocence and yet tests my own limits of patience at the same time.

I resent the routine that staying at home entails mountains of laundry, cleaning after the kids endlessly, cooking and more cleaning...

I've been greeted with the baby blues...
I think I need to uplift my mood and am afraid that no amount of chocolate or other comfort food eating will do.

What is a desperate mum to do ?
This post has rather been highly therapeutic and that somehow eases my tristesse and gives me hope that I will overcome this with perhaps the help of a more tactful hubby who after having read this post will hopefully be more supportive and more understanding.

Things to do when you are pregnant

Here are my favourite things to do without feeling the slightest tinge of guilt during my pregnancies: (in no particular order)

_ Eat to my heart's content.
_ Wolf down a block of dark chocolate (any other type will do when I have a craving) or thereabouts everyday. (Actually that is a slight exaggeration)
_ Have really shitty, hormonally induced temper tantrums and blame it on the increased raging hormones that has somehow engulfed me.
_ Tell my husband that being preggers is wrecking havoc with my normally unperturbed mood thus for him to not be perturbed by my extreme moodswings.
_ Feel absolutely fabulous that my bulging belly is perfectly acceptable and moreover celebrated. I am preggers after all duh !(I might be kidding myself here because I rarely felt this)
_ My normally contradictory self is even more pronounced with an emphasis on contradictory and/or paradoxical. I love being a paradox, that says it all.
_ Have irrational cravings
_ Give my husband a hard time for not being understanding or comprehensive enough about the whole ordeal of being hormonally charged and dealing with a burgeoning belly that is carrying no less than a human life.
_ Cry for no particular reason at all.
_ Having eternal fatigue and able to profit from that. (Although this was only possible during my first pregnancy because I had no other little being to take care of)
_ Taking full advantage of my state of being enceinte by asking people (mainly my hubby) to do things for me. I wish this was true but I have too much pride to ask for assistance unless it's necessary.
_ Taking it easy and putting my feet up. Unfortunately another wistful pensée because I have two toddlers who are turbulent to look after.

I think pregnant women are entitled to any perks they can convoke because frankly all the side effects and symptoms are not all that easy to bear. Morning sickness, nausea, inexplicable itchiness, insomnia, depression,feelings of inadequacy brought on by sudden change in shape/size of their bellies, thighs etc...

So pregnancy is the easy prelude compared to what it takes to raise a child in this oft frightening world. Try it only if you are game.