Beauty in Chaos

End of the year, and *facepalm* can’t believe my last post was in June!

But if I were to fill in the gap between June to December, let me tell you it’s filled with boring routine mumster, mid-life stories.

I think life have become pretty standard (ZzzZzzzZz): Come back from office, pick cheeky-boo Daniel up from the nanny’s, stuck in traffic, rendam the vegetables, defrost the meat, feed Daniel his dinner porridge while watching TVB drama, wash him up, cook the rice and cuts up the dishes while watching my son delightfully open-close-open-close-open-close the washing machine before pressing on all the buttons on the (read: destroying), and many times goes inside the washing machine to see if papa’s sock or mum’s panties still stuck in the roof (my machine is side-loading). Then, I feed my boy some fruits puree, read him some fire engine and old Macdonald’s farm animals, while letting him watch some BabyTV (Billy Bam Bam is my son’s favourite). When papa’s back, I will dump my son to him, run straight to the kitchen to cook a bunch of chinese delicious (subjective) cuisine for 2 pax.

His favourite grand-uncle and grand-aunty aka babysitter’s family.

I will go upstairs and get a shower while my son watches me happily playing peekaboo at the bathroom door with his naked mama. Daniel will be saying “chak, chak“, squinting his eye signaling (hurrying) me for a feedback of chakkks, smiling widely. He dare not go into the bathroom (kena scold before, and he knows he shouldn’t), but will surely cry if  I had to have a peekaboo intermittent because you tell me lahh how to chakkk with shampoo on my face ok. He absolutely hates peekaboo intermittent, and I must do this chak-chak-chak thingy in my whole 10 min in the shower. Papa will be left alone at the kitchen doing all the dirty dishes and then makes his fruits/vege juice with the juicer. Then, when my son sleeps at exacly 9.30pm, I will handwash all his clothes. If you are asking, yes, I still handwash my baby’s clothes every damn blardy night since he was born. I can be such an OCD piece of shit sometimes.


As a mum, I don’t know how to compare (btw, we shouldn’t compare our kids), but Daniel is definitely a textbook baby. Meaning, his developmental milestones are exactly as what you google month-after-month in BabyCentre or WebMD. He is quite predictable and easy to take care! <–my mum claimed, not me.

He has been speaking a few words which are meaningful – put, take, give, “tit tit tit” when he holds the Astro remote controls and points it to the tv, “mai” (Hokkien for ‘No’), “puyaoo” (<–Mandarin for ‘No’), “yallooooo” when he puts the phone to his ears, “cat-cat” when he sees a cat in the book, or real cat. “Nennen”&”Mam mam”, if he wants milk/food and “Papa” are his first ever words. He still can’t say “mummy” yet to his kiasu mummy although he’s with me all the time, manja and playing with me. Sux wei. And of course, he has been getting more and more talkative bablebablellele babbles baa booo goo gaga aiyooh sumida all day, and I believe my son was a Korean guy reincarnate.

He is already holding his own milk bottle himself to drink, and I swear I was delighted because less one task for the parents with an independent child. LOL! Can marry him off already lah. Can. Hahaha.

After work, I try to take him to the playground nearby.

After 14 months, I realised how my son has changed me. I am born like this: over-dominating, big headed career woman, ever the high achiever at whatever I try/do even though I am not talented in it, reads 4 books a month, perfectionist-bitch, and quite kiasu. But when my son is born (also when I met my husband), I find it easier to let go of certain things. I find it easier to let go of perfection. I let people take care of my son and close one-eye in many things, while I catch a movie alone, go for a facial, takes 1 year to finish 3 books, not making the bed, living in a untidy hall, bedroom, etc. This is because I don’t want to be trapped in the cycle of woman-doing-every-thing-in-the-house-and-takes-care-of-children-too-and-earns-a-bunch-of-salary-back-home. I don’t want to do everything for the household or my family. And want people to help me. I allow my hubby to help me out in anything he can (no matter what tasks), not caring about the outcome, let my son fall down and bump his head, let my son eat hair, food he picked up from the floor, let my son eat junk food and kacang puteh, loads of sugary vitagen (vitagen keeps him quiet in the car and when I watch TVB drama), let my floor be dusty for a week, forgot to wash the vegetable and cook it, simply cut the vege, the eggs are hangus, the meat is hancur, Really, nevermind, Because I feel quite happy being imperfect!


His coconut hair-do. It makes him look cute, but I cut the unruly hair off to be ready for CNY.

He can be quite a good boy. Often listens to us and afraid of scolding. A bit sensitive (like Papa)

Going kai-kai is his favourite past time.

He loves flipping books, but also enjoys his BabyTV and unexpectedly, loves to watch Berita (the RTM version)

Sorry, but bash me all you want you breastfeeding advocates, but the KEY to my current happiness was: Stop breastfeeding. There!

Gosh, I felt so liberated once I stopped bf because I hate that my son keep latching to me and I have absolutely no farking time to do any farking thing. I honestly hate the pumping regime both at home and at work, and I can’t focus on my work or meetings. When I want to do some work/experiment, suddenly I need to pump. Soooo mah fun! After 6 months of essential breastfeeding, and when my son seemed to love solids more than breasts, I was extremely happy to quit the pump and that fugly bra. He was unhappy too because he kept getting scolded for biting my boob tits when he latches (6 months already got 4 teeth ok). He frustrated, I also frustrated. Without breastfeeding, Papa also get to play a role in feeding his son, and at least this empowers the man to hold the feeding bottle and do the feeding. More than 3/4 of Daniel’s feeding now is Papa’s job. And I have sooo much time after that. Sleeping also felt sooo good for 8 months already. I wake up a happier person each morning because I have good sleep every night with my son sleeping through without waking up hungry. I don’t like that feeding goes exclusively to the mother. Don’t like. Period. Btw, my son holds the feeding bottle himself and feeds all 7 ounces already! Both papa and mummy are proud of his independence, plans to marry him off soon). 😛

Semakin kaypoh

Fell from the bed and got his first manhood bruise.

His favourite Thor hammer. He fought well <-bruises everywhere

Truth: I wished I was a high-milk-supply-mum, so then I can pump like 100 bottles a day and leave them to the dad/nanny to feed. But obviously I am not. I am a low-supply-kais-pagi-makan-pagi milk supply mum and my son is a big eater and cries every time after breastmilk because still so hungry, so that’s why it’s not conducive for me to continue breastfeeding. Again, it’s all in the mind(!), and when I purportedly tell myself that I hated breastfeeding cause it wasted a lot of my goddamn time, milk definitely didn’t come anymore (yay! no more leaky breast). However, when I wanted to quit, I went to upset to depression because people that idk (the internet, forums) trying to throw such formula milk mums down as a “bad mums”. Perfectionist, high-achiever you may think I am, but this is one thing I am willing to give up for the love of MYSELF. No breast milk after 6 months, but my son is still alive and kicking and cuter than ever….but that is because I have great genes, kan….

Manja boy. Always golek around me, hug and kisses me frequently. I miss him daily when I am work.

Well, blink blink eye, it’s Christmas:

My 5-foot Christmas tree is up, my son dare not touch it after I warned him once only. Good dog boy. He was such a menace initially, but now will just say out loud: “WAHHHHhhhhHH” if I point him to any Christmas tree in the mall or at home, and absolutely dare not touch any ornaments on our tree. Because perfectionist mummy here doesn’t like heterogeneous placing of ornaments; the OCD me loves exact spatial placing of ornaments and symmetry. 😛

This year 2016 is awesome in many ways. I am optimistic about next year: career-wise: I hope the crude oil price will bounce up further; the ringgit will strengthen so that I can go more overseas holiday with my two boys, and I hope that my family and friends will be happier and achieve what they aim for. And lose weight.

Happy holidays and Happy New Year!


Doing naughty cheek face to his cousin, Amanda.

Love you both!



I just hit mid-thirties.

If you are going to enter a marathon race, you will be placed in the Veteran category. No shit. Hahaha.

My relatives say I have this motherly look. What that means is that with just a glance, people will know that I have kid(s). To me, motherly literally means – I have panda eyes, and my face looks puffy and wrinkly, and I pandai bargain in the wet market, I suddenly got very interested in kitchen-ware, and love sharing recipes. Basically, like an Ah Sou.

Nevertheless, there is nothing I love more about myself than achieving mid-30s. I feel mature, I feel empowered at work, I feel I am in control of my household. I am happy with my relationships at home with my hubby, siblings, with in-laws, and my own parents and relatives. I am happy with my job and being a career woman. I have some assets (properties, investments, not body assets). I am not bragging, but I am grateful to be given various opportunities in life to see and experience so many things in this world:

  • 1. I drank good coffee before
  • 2. I drank bad coffee before
  • 3. I got a many degrees – biology, Ph.D. and recently – chemistry.
  • 4. I have obtained a Scholarship before.
  • 5. I have been an exchanged student before overseas.
  • 6. I have completed a triathlon and a duathlon. I swam in the open-ocean before.
  • 7. I have 40 open water dives logged around SEA – Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia
  • 8. I have completed 6 full marathons.
  • 9. I have lived overseas – China, Netherlands, Singapore
  • 10. I have experienced blind dating, meeting a guy online and regretted it because he’s so not like his Friendster profile
  • 11. I have gotten drunk and drove drunk for 10 km (If I remember).
  • 12. I bribed a cop before.
  • 13. Got caught for DUI before.
  • 14. I have sung on the stage in public before
  • 15. I studied a foreign language before – Japanese
  • 16. I have traveled to many countries around the world before
  • 17. I have kissed a complete stranger before. <– drunk
  • 18. I have been embarrassed in public before – usually involving clothing malfunction
  • 19. I raced up KL Tower before. *proud*
  • 20. The highest I’ve been in Twin Towers is 74th floor.
  • 21. I own a luxury bag (relatively expensive)
  • 22. I have helped a stranger before by giving him/her my money, and not asking it back.
  • 23. I almost died due to a medical condition before.
  • 24. ….And came back alive and became a motherfarter…
  • 25. I stayed in a dorm with total strangers before.
  • 26. I acted like a bitch before, throwing tantrums and not giving in.
  • 27. I have experienced both bloody childbirth and c-sect. The pain!
  • 28. I must have had 6-7 dates including boyfriends, before I found my hubby. Wait, maybe 10.
  • 29. I met with 2 major car accidents before.
  • 31. My car got stolen before.
  • 32. I have been baptized a Christian.
  • 33. I am a landlady
  • 34. I am a wife
  • 35. I am a mother

Glad to announce:
I have not smoked before.
I have not taken drugs before.
I have not experienced studying overseas before (I really wish)
I have not done plastic surgery before.
I have not ate weird foods before and will never try – reptiles, fried insects, live octopus, raw herring, blue cheese, etc.
I have not seen the death of a human being before.


I know can never (but never say never!) be a stay-at-home-mum as my brains are constantly churning chemistry reactions for the development of new chemicals, thus I kinda think nobody at home would appreciate my brilliant, scientific (ahem!) mind. And tell you, I hate managing my home and my son 24 hours, 365 days a year. He can be so cute that I wanna kiss him all the time, but that’s just it. Otherwise, my son can be quite annoying because consciously I enjoy my freedom as an individual, hence I hope to just see him at night (kidding, but 50% truth) (I am a good mother ok but I need my ME-time back). I love my kid, but I also love the office, the laboratory, my colleagues, the rat race, and I like to get my brains work out hard…and most importantly: I get to bring back a chunk of salary.


To say I am an accomplished woman, nope. But to say I have hit some good milestones in life, then yes. I still think I have a long way to go to achieve –
1. financial freedom

2. having successful kids (though you have to define success)

3. leave a good legacy in this world (e.g. breakthrough in scientific discoveries, charity, save tigers,     😛 ).

4. sleep without anyone disturbing <– (never say never)


So this is what motherhood does to you eh. No time to even blog. My last post was like what..3 months ago?!

Truth: I really miss blogging (=leisure writing) besides writing work-related reports. Being a working-mum and without any help from own mum, MIL, a maid or not even a part time maid actually does sucks. I have NO TIME. When I say I have no time, I really mean no time for myself.

Note: Hubby is my biggest helper and supporter at home. My hubby is not like what you expect from any popular urban myth that describes husband as coming back home from work, puts up his legs on the table, reads the paper, waiting for your warm, home-cooked dinner and TV remote on his hands. Nope, nope.When he returns from work, he helps me wipe my son’s butt, bath him, feeds him, boils water, sterilizes, makes pear, apple and vegetable puree and freezes them, takes out the garbage, cuts fruits for me, does the dirty dishes, and brings me out for dinner if I burn my meals. [Check] (for choosing the right hubby).

And since today’s Mother’s Day with my active baby who don’t give a shit about what it is, it’s okay: my hubby celebrated with me by bringing us out to eat wanton mee! Ok watt….this wanton mee shop got aircon ok. Nevertheless, our Mother’s Day festive mood was (expectedly) destroyed by my son’s urge to scream (happy, joyful kinda screaming) and pee pee out of his diapers (don’t ask me how his dick can escape his diaper) in the middle of slurping my yummy wantan soup.

Truth: the wanton mee is really delicious ok. First Mother’s Day 2016: [Check].

In the wanton mee shop. Don’t know want to scold or not, shout happily like sakai. The more we say “Shhhh sshhh”, the more he happy and scream again. Malu oi…

Daniel just turned 7 months old. And I am still alive to witness his milestones aplenty. I mean, I thought I would have turned into a zombie by then, but hallelujah, my brains are still functional, I can walk straight, and still like eating wanton mee (and not human brains). [Check].

He absolutely loves solids of any form. Mummy makes porridge with vege (e.g. pumpkin, spinach, carrots, sweet potato, etc.) every evening and he gobbles them up all for 2 meals a day like a velociraptor. He is a velociraptor since young anyways. Pear puree is his absolute favourite. [Check].

He is always, always happy. Check. Don’t ask me why he’s always happy but he really, really is happy. I don’t like to praise my child (some people say pantang), but sometimes I do wonder why he smiles and laughs all the time (a good thing, right?). Little bit, little bit also laugh. I say something not funny with a straight face also he laughs. Grandma say he gives away his smiles too easily, so now very cheap di. LOL  But hello, mind you, if he ever cries, the cry can be heard up til the next street.

I do nothing also he can laugh. Tak paham lah, mummy.

Laugh laugh laugh all day long, dunno why. Cheap laughs. 😛

He is very active, and his limbs are particularly strong. His legs always give one hell of a powerful kick on tables, on chairs, and anywhere his feet touches. He yanks up and jumps all the time! I think he wants to stand more than crawl *sweat*. He was born with sturdy bones and not the flimsy, soft type you expect of a baby. He fell down also don’t cry wan. I do hope one day he is a sportsman (ahem: triathlete) and hope the sun can make him darker. He’s a bit too fair for a boy. lol. [Check].

“My legs are so strong, I need to jump around and stand up all the time. I hate sitting.”

BTW, he likes sitting on babysit in the car. Makes mummy’s life easier when going to babysitter’s place every weekday. That baby car seat also like macam kena spike with some kind of sleep potion. He SLEEPS every single time I put him on that carseat! Daniel loves his babysitter and family. On many occasions  he didn’t want to get into mummy’s car after work. Boo huhuhu. Nevertheless, I actually do want him to love his babysitter and this indirectly proves that his babysitter takes good care of him. [Check].

As a working mum and no helper at home, my daily routine now makes me so damn bloody tired. Everyday after work around 5.30 pm, corporate mummy becomes stinky, sweaty mummy: Fetch Daniel from babysitter- cook adult’s dinner (almost daily!)-cook baby’s porridge-bath baby-feed baby-play with baby-switch on BabyTV on Astro-handwash baby’s clothes-make baby nap-etc.

Thank God he has a ‘schedule’, therefore his behaviour is easy to predict – time to eat, time to sleep, time to play.

I sometimes cry inside on why my life is so bad – no money to hire maid, no helper, no one to clean my house; I am fat and can only exercise once a week now, and why my life not mewah, Why didn’t I choose and married a rich hubby? Soo poor thing this Ivy Chai, made poor decisions in life, now suffer like mad. My life is so difficult with a house and son she can’t manage by herself. My son sometimes roll on his pee pee, I pick up toys that has drop onto the oily restaurant or kitchen floor and forgot to clean it for a week. I pick up porridge that fell onto the floor but shove it with a spoon back to my son’s mouth cause don’t want to waste. I no money to buy nice toys for him, so his favourite toys is my remote control, and waste papers, crispy old receipts, golf ball.  I no money to buy organic food for him to eat. Chia seed…what?!, *rant rant rant rant*

Truth: I say this ONLY when I can’t handle my child and dinner. Mummy sometimes needs to vent marr and reflect on life. The Larger truth: No regrets marrying my hubby. He is a man that I dare say, of highest integrity (pantang say. hehehe). He is my helper and never complain once (really never, a polar opposite of myself). He loves my son to the moon and back. He does his own ironing(!) and laundry *phew* and see Paragraph 3 for more info. Middle class people in Klang Valley is like dat lah. With our salaries combined, we are both captain planets of our home.

Thank God also for MIL and my mum that always gives me meat and homegrown vegetables for a month’s worth of home-cooked dinner.

Thank you my Mum, my MIL, my Hubby and my son that makes my ‘suffering’ all worth it.

Baby here 6 months old with the best hubby in the world, really. Sorry I always complain and mang chang.


Staycation & Chambers Bar and Grill Hilton

Sneaking in a food post which is way past due.

This is about our date at Chambers Bar and Grill at Hilton KL.

In December 2015, we decided to book a room for a night at Hilton KL for our staycation. I had accumulated some points in my HHonors card due to my extended stay at Hilton whilst in Netherlands, and thought it would be great to use up some points. After an bitter, eventful check in (room not ready even at 4 pm(!), and Daniel crying at the reception), we finally got an upgrade to our deluxe room. I also made a booking earlier on to dine at its infamous Chambers Bar and Grill.

2.5 months old baby Daniel didn’t want his pre-requested babycot. Only wants fluffy pillows and white sheets.

Though not as famous and therefore (probably) less expensive than Prime at Le Meridien right next door, we decided to go for the steakhouse at Hilton because I wanted to use my HHonors for further discount. Smart consumerism ok.

The steak did make a statement. 300 g Porterhouse T-bone steak from NZ sounded small, but when the waiter brought it in, I was like”WAHH ZAHH, huge gilerrr!!” I had it medium-well because my erythrocytes-phobic hubby will not have a share of my gigantic steak if he sees blood. See see, when I cut open the steak, still quite pink inside. Opps. He and I know it’s silly to eat premium steak above the medium-rare temperature, but oh well.

We knew one beef steak was enough, so hubby ordered fish: black cod steak. Our mains came with fragrant baked garlic and that garlic did make a lot of difference. Who knew baked garlic goes well with both been and fish steaks!

FYI, the mains does not come with sides, so we ordered sides. I had the grilled asparagus while hubby ordered the usual suspects – simple grilled vegetables – turned out to be surprisingly yummy. I also ordered the sauce to come with the mains – trio of mustards. Well, not all mustard suited well with my tastes nor goes well with steak, although technically mustard would be ‘smartest’ sauce to choose from the various sauces. In a very Malaysian way, I secretly wished I had Kimball chili sauce with my steak. 😛 Honorable mention are the array Himalayan salts provided at each table, but did wonder in which part of my dish would I sprinkle salts on, as the steak was perfect enough.

Try eating steak with a sticky baby on one hand and a knife on the other

Pefectly grilled cod for hubs. Melts

Back to the T-bone steak: it was absolutely yummy.  Maybe I was hungry, but I managed to gobble the steak up within an hour and hubby just had a bite or two of my steak (because he sees pink). Had a bite of his black cod and it was so juicy. I thought a steak house serves perfect T-bones, but didn’t know they could make a fish meat melt in my mouth. Wah,…I secretly wished I had that fish instead (of beef) when I had that bite.

Mind you, I am never a foodie, so you know that I have limited vocabulary when describing good food. What I can write is that service was brisk, the ambiance was great albeit rather dark but romantic (and definitely not Instagram-friendly), food and sides were made skillfully, and I didn’t feel a pinch when I foot the bill (=worth the money). The staff also found us a table where I can dock my gigantic stroller. With such classy service and restaurant, you wouldn’t think eating here would be a challenge, but with a baby in one hand and a knife in another, the dining experience was still amazing.

My son would not have remembered that day at 2.5 months old. I shall bring him back here but only when I see my son is old enough to tell me he would share a medium-rare steak with his mummy (and not papa).

Most Wonderful Time of the Year

It’s December.

Time flies by me swiftly in 2015.

But there was this one month that I felt that time stood still: it was the month of October following the birth of Daniel. It felt long because I got very hormonal and pretty stressed out because of my son’s jaundice and my breastfeeding issues. Five days in the hospital did take a toll on myself and my hubby. At that time, I felt I should have chosen a nearer hospital because of my hubby’s frequent travels from home/office to hospital, but can swear that the service and facilities (i.e. doctors, nurses, staff, rooms) in Prince Court is pretty amazing, so it was a tradeoff.

Maybe I have not embraced motherhood yet, but many things didn’t feel right on the first week, and nothing went as planned upon my son’s birth. Funny, but it wasn’t really love at first sight with my son. In week-2, I had my C-sec wound broken and was admitted to Sunway MC. It made me so mad (at myself) because this incident has devastatingly troubled my mum, my MIL, my hubby, my dad and more so, my newborn son. I was still under confinement period; my mum had to cook confinement food and bring it to the hospital. I couldn’t see my son to latch; a day less of bonding with my son felt instinctively strange, like I’ve abandoned my son.

Time crawled too during the rest of the confinement period in Ipoh. I couldn’t bath all that much which made me feel really icky. I have always loved ginger but after 1 month of gingery foods, all food tasted so 1 dimensional, I did hate ginger at one point. What was worse, something triggered hives and itchy spots all over my body (exactly like the one I had last year in Chiang Mai). This allergy(?) worsens after direct intake of DOM or YOMEISHU. The alcohol must have aggravated the hives and itchiness further. I have yet to pinpoint the allergen. Blame it on hormones?

Daniel at exactly 1 month-old.
Papa doesn’t want to miss any of his growth!

November 2015 was intimidating nevertheless. After the default 1-month-confinement, I extended my confinement to 40 days at my MIL’s house in Ipoh. And hubby felt terribly left-out because he missed a lot of baby’s development milestone when he was in KL. The terrifying thing was that after confinement, I decided to return to KL and take care of my son all by myself without help of my own parents nor in-laws. I was terrified because I fear I may not be able to juggle between baby and managing my home. But guess what, as of now, it’s been 6 weeks since I last took care of my son all alone during the day. For that, I have to give myself a pat in the back – for raising my child who put on ample weight/height and having witness first hand his development milestones, AND still didn’t burn the house down 🙂 Well done, Ivy.

Hao-kong-chai pose

By now, time flies by me a bit too quickly! My son turns 12-weeks old today. One thing I am thankful for was that he doesn’t wail like a newborn anymore. His cries have ‘meaning’, like a language (=short cries, long cries, angry cries, complaining cries etc.) telling you whether he’s hungry, he has pooped or he is not happy with my nipples. These development makes things so much easier for me. He socially interacts with me and papa: cooing, laughing, smiling, talking, ang gugu me, loving Christmas lights and music. He can sleep through the night too. Now I am so in love with my son! Only now I appreciate motherhood and my newborn son antics (not so newborn anymore eh?). He is such a happy kiddo and quite cheeky, with new development milestones achieved day after day, I now am terrified to send him to the babysitter in January. All because I am afraid to miss his milestones and yes, it’s termed: separation anxiety.

Work is about to begin. Now I feel that time flies way too quickly. I was relieved to have found a 1-to-1 babysitter in Puchong but on the other hand, I fear I might have separation anxiety at office. Thank God Daniel loves sitting on the car seat which makes my life a notch much easier when I want to run errands and sending him to babysitter. Also, he loves going kai-kai. I think the 1st week at office after this 3-month maternity leave would be the hardest.

Daniel loves the car seat and kai-kai

Anyways, cutting the story short – I feel awesome as a mum now. It took me 1.5 months to embrace motherhood as a first-time mum. So much more for me and papa to learn, but for me, it’s all about being PATIENT.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from the Fongs.

Thank you for an awesome Year 2015.


Til Next Year 2016. Ivy-out.



It was week 39.

I was already on leave for a 4 days before the bloody show on Friday. I was still reluctant to go to the hospital because it was just like pink spots. However I did call my mum to confirm if pink spotting indicates a bloody show. She confirms yes. So, I grabbed my clothes bag, and called my hubby at work. He drove me straight PCMC and at the labour room, the nurse cilok in (gosh, terribly uncomfortable!) and confirmed I was 3-4 cm opened. I was at first stage labour.

But the opening of 3-4 cm remained stagnant for probably 12 hours. I’ve got mild contractions going on in the night but at that time I chose to go on without medical intervention. The contractions were far apart and still bearable. The nurses came in to ask if I wanted epidural as I must decide soon because if contractions comes in closer and closer, the anesthetician will have a hard time injecting the epidural to my back (because I need to be very, very still). I got confused. I looked at my husband, and he didn’t say a thing, because it’s really up to me. It’s entirely my decision. I am the one who understand myself and how much pain I could endure. The pain is manageable for now, but I knew it will get worse. I finally said yes to the nurse for epidural.

Got jabbed in the back. After that the pain seems to have gone away and I got to rest for 4-5 hours at night. On Saturday early morning, the nurses cilok again, and still 4-5 cm?!?!?!?! Little progress. Then out of no where, I felt stronger contractions. PAIN became real. But I asked the nurses “Why is there still so much pain?!?!? I cringed, held on hard to the bedding’s rail and breath in-out deeply every single time a contraction sets in. Wow, that was painful. Wait, even with epidural?!?!?! I was so in pain that I scolded the nurses “Are you sure you injected the correct dose of epidural? If yes, why still sooooo painful?” The nurses explained that (slight?!?) pain is required for pushing out the baby. I screamed “Whatever la, just top up the dose, ok?!! NOW!!!”. As if I were a medical doctor.

It was a cold, hazy, long day.
It was a cold, hazy, long day at Labour room

Not a single tear from my eyes. I made sure every contraction (5 minutes apart!) I tahan and tahan (I don’t want to be that sissy girl, crying, screaming, as I knew pain endurance was my forte from my burst appendix, and marathons. LOL). Cringing and almost tearing down the bed’s railing was all I did. Was making conversations with my hubby whenever I could catch a breath. I was particularly glad that my hubby was supportive beside me all this while and not like those panicky/worried ones. It was around 10 am where they cilok me again: Oh, 8 cm dilated. Yippee. They broke my water, and bb should come out soon. Kan? Kan? But nope, baby’s heart beat still sooo strong and blood pressure still cantik, and refused to leave my tummy. I was now angry. With everyone and everything.

At 2.45 pm, the bidan cilok me and said: you still at 8 cm despite so many intervention – water broke, induced, bloody flow like a murder scene, they felt the baby’s head stuck for 5 hours at my pelvic bone and my pelvic wouldn’t open to 10 cm. The bidan trying to calm me by saying: it’s nobody’s fault. And I could murder that somebody who once mentioned that I have a huge pelvic and that childbirth was easy-peasy for big as* people like me, haa? At that time, the contractions were soooo close and pain was very intense. My hubby checked the machine measuring my contractions and let me know that the highest intensity I endured was 70++ (whatever unit that is) and that number was already off the charts for me in terms of pain. Tell you, even that intensity hasn’t made me cry. YET. (Later my hubby told me that without epidural, the pain intensity could have doubled – 150 whatever unit, so thank God I had epidural).

I only cried when my doctor came in and told me I needed an Emergency c-sec. I suddenly cried out loud because:

1. “Wah lau, 27-28 hours of labour pain, now u said it’s ALL going to be over in 45 minutes?!?!?!”

2. “This 27-28 hours of waiting finally end up bearing no ‘fruits’. Nothing is coming out after all this suffering? Not fair to me lah”.

An emergency c-sec was not what I expected. My baby was measuring small leading to the weeks of my full-term pregnancy, therefore I thought I could give birth naturally w/o medical intervention. I thought all the exercises during pregnancy – swimming and walking in Holland and my big as* would have made delivery easy, but nope.

In 45 minutes, it was over. My O&G doctor in the OT said: “Your baby is really, really cute” as he was pulled out from my broken body. I was like, “I know, right?” 😛 First thing I noticed while still in OT was that my baby was white like albino, and had chinky eyes. Oh well, all babies looked the same when they first come into this world – water-bloated and chinky eyes and loud mouths crying. The paed doctor held him close to me, I got to kiss him, and then I cried again: The whole childbirth process, is finally OVER (though the shivering didn’t).

I said a little prayer when baby was first pushed into my ward. Hubby said looks like mummy; I say look like papa. Whatever it is, I felt so blessed and glad that baby Daniel has finally arrived in style, gobbling/chewing up my entire nipple ever since until both nipples cracked and super painful. But no pain could beat the pain of childbirth, so what the heck, bring on the nipple sore!!

Just pushed bb into my ward
Just pushed bb into my ward


Week-3 Log

This is Daniel.

You can call me Yang Yang.

Baby Daniel at 2.5 weeks

He is going to be 3 weeks old on Saturday.

He has both mummy and daddy features:

1. Born botak like mummy

2. Curly hair like daddy

3. Eyes like daddy

4. Obvious double eye lid and lashes – unlike mummy or daddy

5. Nose like daddy

6. Sexy lips like mummy

7. Sweet smiles and cute like mummy

8. Very boyish, cho-lou (rough!) and playful like daddy

9. Blood type A+ like daddy

10. Screamer and bad temperament like mummy

11. Ears like mummy

12. Fingers and feet – long and huge like mummy

His mummy is in confinement and haggard-looking at home – with broken sutures and blood clot on C-sect wound a week before. Mummy tries to limit movement and not carry Daniel too much (how sad!), but still can blog 😛

Daniel’s growth milestone has been tremendous eventhough less than 3 weeks old:

1. Each feeding is 3++ ounces already

2. Suckling on mummy’s breast until sore. Latches like a velociraptor.

3. Play with himself after feeding i.e. talking! “Ang-gu-gu”

4. Super screamer when hungry

5. Does not get annoyed by loud noises (sleeps through loud TV, radio, crowds, people talking, etc.)

6. Developed double chin

7. Kicker and boxer without mittens. Daniel hates mittens

8. Loves bathing and swimming in bathtub (which baby doesn’t?)

9. Has strong and long neck, unlike mummy and papa.

He makes mummy and papa smile everyday. And because Baby Daniel loves to smile too.

Daniel makes me wake up twice at night time to pump and latch, but all the lost sleep are worth it. Mummy lost 13 kg in 2 weeks. Left 5 kg to pre-pregnancy weight.

Mummy feels kinda sad because not much BM produced but tries her best to eat supplement to increase BM – dishes such as Ikan Yu (=shark meat), hot Holicks, papaya soup, etc.

Mummy feels the pain when admitted to hospital for C-sect bleeding at suture. Mummy cried more than during contraction/labour pain – cause can’t get to see baby and to BF him.

Daniel is very kind to mummy and papa – give shit and pee to us to process everyday. But somehow seeing this yellow poo2 and pee2 makes mummy and papa very happy because this means Daniel is growing well.

Papa will come see baby Daniel every weekend. We both miss papa very much!

At 2.5 weeks