One of the reasons for the major delay was that I was not sure if I wanted to share this delivery story. I contemplated for the longest time in my life. At the same time, Radiah was also a challenging baby that you can literally get nothing done for many months ahead of her birth.
But I do have readers (amazingly!) who wonder and ask if I were to ever blog again. Haha! I know definitely that I will still want to blog for many years to come.
So, as usual, I want to share because every birth story is unique and every delivery is etched in a mother's mind. So even after almost a year, I can share with you my journey as if I had delivered yesterday.
So close to 34 weeks, I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes (GD). I felt my world crumbling on me. If you know me well enough, I am such a food lover. I eat over many occassions - through stressful times, happy moments, disappointed moments. So to be striped off the joy of food was living torture for me. I was hospitalised for 3 nights and being put on a diabetic diet. It suck big time. I probably lost weight and grumble that I do not have enough to eat. I mean, whoever loves dry plain biscuits and sugarless milo for tea or the fish that they served me for lunch was smaller than my palm.
When I was back home, I needed to prick myself 10 times a day to watch my sugar diet and it continued for the next 3 weeks. At that moment, I felt for the diabetics out there. I was lucky not to be on insulin but to prick my fingers 10 times a day makes it so painful because after a while, you do not know which point to poke anymore and everywhere is swollen. I was in the brink of tears.
My mom advised me to blend long beans and drink the juice twice a day. Damn! That was really diuretic. I did nothing but head to the loo every hour or so. It didn't help too that I was late into pregnancy and the baby was really pressing on the bladder.
Then my cousin advised me to drink apple cider vinegar (ACV) before meals. Gosh! Whoever loves the taste and the smell of it? But like I said, I was desperate. I poured a tablespoon of ACV to half a glass of water and drank. Within moments, I was a little dizzy. I knew I was low on sugar because I hadnt eaten anything. Took a sugar test. 4.4.
I was damn excited. So I grabbed anything to eat to ease my dizziness.
So I suffered a week and spent the other 2 and a half weeks eating whatever I wished for. Whatever the throat wants, the throat gets. But the trick is to drink half a glass of ACV before every meal. So I carry a syringe of 10ml of ACV (I used my kiddo's medicinal syringe) everywhere I went. Kept my sugar in check and my gynae was pretty happy about it.
I swear this was my best friend.
Still I was keen to be induced at 37 weeks, since baby was getting bigger and I wanted to get off the diagnosis of GD. So at 37 weeks and 3 days, we planned for an induced labour. Placenta was still low and baby was expected to be 3.2kg.
Alfi and I were excited to have her out though we always wondered how we are going to manage with 3 children. But we comforted ourselves that it was the same question we have everytime we had another baby and we have always survived - Alhamdulillah!
Somehow I do not look very pretty or good during girl pregnancies. But it is really a small price to pay to have your little one.
This was me on 23 January, 8.30am going to the labour ward. Super huge and I insist that I brought 2 extra home pillows.
Looking back, I was huge, weighing almost 90kg. Which wasnt my heaviest pregnancy. Ranis still holds the record for me being at 93kg at full term.
When we were assigned to our labour room, I was super relived that I had the same orientation of the room as I delivered Rania and Riduan. Somehow it gave me a better sense of settling down.
Labour wards were full. Nurses and midwives were busy. So not to trouble everyone, I asked for an epidural to be given to me. I learnt my lesson during Riduan's delivery that it was damn painful to burst the water bag without the epidural.
So the anaesthetist came. A chinese guy and did a splendid job compared to Riduan's delivery.
I rested and oxytocin was wired in. Contractions came and I was handling it pretty ok. Nothing dramatic. Alfi even managed to catch some sleep and so did I.
8 hours into the contractions, I was 5cm dilated and I knew my epidural was running out fast so I called for the nurses top up ASAP before it was too late. I could go from 5cm to 10cm in 20 MINS!!!
Within 40 mins, I was fully dilated and was ready to go. The midwives switched off the epidural (which I don't understand why!) and made me push to crown. I told myself,"this is easy peasy."I was expecting to see my baby in 20 mins. But I was wrong.
The whole ordeal took me 90 mins with contractions coming in every other minute. The nurse made me push and push and I kept asking her if I was crowning yet. She kept nodding and I was getting pretty irritated. Of all times, the delivery period is never a time to test anyone's patience!
With my legs open, exhausted and sweating, no one was telling me what was going on. I was holding up to so much pain. I wanted to scream,"GIVE ME A C-SECT NOW!" I wasn't crowning yet but I already felt the head in between my legs. The nurse insisted I kept pushing. I thought she was crazy. I only had 2 dates prior to delivery and water since I had to keep my sugar on a low.
Everytime I pushed, I felt the baby kicking me up on my diaphragm. It was a feeling I never felt before in my previous experiences. I started to sweat and told the nurse to keep the temperature down. She said,"It's very cold already. You not cold ah?"
"No. I am sweating and I am giving birth so I need the air con." I made Alfi turn the temperature down. Still I felt warm. So I told Alfi to fan me. I had no idea what he used. It wasn't a moment to remember such memories. I told him to fan harder and faster. I got thirsty and kept asking Alfi for a few sips of ice water.
With every push I made, I still felt my baby kicking me up. She was kicking my stomach up and I felt like vomiting all the water I have drank. I was still sweating and the back started to hurt that I told Alfi to fan me and press on my back and I kept telling him "Harder b. Harder!" He was very exasperated.
I kept on with my istirghfar throughout the whole ordeal. Seek God for forgiveness. At the same time I prayed for whoever had seek for my prayers.
Then a Malay nurse came in. She was very determined to help me get the baby to crown. I found a new sense of motivation. It was too late to do a c-sect and I cannot bear the pain any longer. So I decided to put my mind to it. No more water. No more pressing on the back.
This time around, I wanted to make sure I did it - quick. I asked her if my baby was coming out. She said that my pushes are strong and good but the baby doesn't seem to want to come out. I kept telling my baby not to kick me. So the next contraction came and again and again and I pushed and I pushed and Alfi pressed under my breast bone to make sure the baby wouldn't kick me.
That too, I had to tell him to press on my stomach harder. And I saw him press so hard that he shivered and I felt no pain. Still no baby. The Malay nurse read the istighfar with me each time I was waiting for the next contraction. When the wave came, she raised her voice, giving new motivation each time,"Ok Mima push now. Don't give up. We can already see the head. 1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8..9..10 and rest."
Baby wasn't coming out still. I cried. Look at the husband who was already pale. He knew I was very good at pushing out a baby. He had no answer for me for the first time. I told him I was in so much pain but all he could do was to rub my hands and say,"Selawat banyak banyak"
"Where is the gynae?" I kept asking. "We called for her. She should be on her way."
When the gyanae came in 15 mins later, I managed to ask out loud,"Where were you?" Apparently she was stuck in class.
So she took her apron and gloves and told me to push.
"Ok Nuramima, you ok?," she asked.
"No. Baby is not coming out."
"Ok we wait for the next contraction."
Before I could say anything, the next wave came and I pushed and by then she probably figured out why. I felt some hand intervention (God knows what happen) but finally my little baby was out. She cried and I breathed out in relieved. But I was wondering why they never put the baby on me immediately.
So the senior sister said,"Your baby is a little swollen, probably because she was stuck inside for quite sometime and she came out facing upwards towards you." Now that explains the kicking and painful labour.
I was like,'OK.. so are you going to show me my baby?'
When they finally put her on me, I cried. Not out of happiness this time but out of sympathy that she went through what she did.
They quickly took her away, cleaned her up and let Alfi give her the azan. After which when my gynae was sewing me up, there were a team of doctors who came around my baby and I was trying to hear what they said. But I was super exhausted and had zero energy.
Everyone was busy and no one would be able to answer me if my baby was going to be alright. Again, I lay there helpless.
I had a marginal placenta previa and the baby was unable to turn and she had a hard time coming out as the placenta is blocking her way. I am so thankful that we did not have to go through any forcep or vacuum because my pushes were hard enough.
But even after saying so, I look like a major wreck after the whole ordeal.
Nonetheless she belongs to our family and we will love her no matter what.
We hid her bruise and swell in this picture which covered her left side of forehead and eyes.
Her Nani was, as usual, the first one there to see if she is doing ok.
The same day, her siblings met her.
We slowly figured that because my placenta was low, she only moved one side throughout the third trimester. Plus the placenta was covering her forehead and eyes that the whole area was swollen and bruised and that would also explain how she came out facing up because she was not able to turn!
My poor baby. She must have been so traumatised that she refuses to be with anyone but me and went through digestive reflux over the first six months.
I texted my aunty who is a Captain Midwife in Oman and shared with her my experience. I showed her pictures of my baby and she told me that it was normal. Posterior birth has longer labour and delivery is much more painful. She assured me that the swell and bruise will subside in about 2 weeks. Indeed she was right!
Radiah in the next couple of days in the hospital.
We had rough months. Really rough.
She wasn't a happy baby for the next 7-8 months. But Alhamdulillah, we are settling down now. Which is why I can probably spend a little more time at night to write up an entry blog.
Today she turn 11 months. Everyone is more approachable to her because she is smiling and laughing a lot more. She is truly a fighter in every sense, including being fiesty to her other two siblings when they take away the toys in her hand.
Happy 11th month baby.
A lot of people advise me not to share my birth journey but to me this is knowledge to be shared with everyone. Not many will experience a posterior birth. The chances are small but you can understand what to do and see the signs if you happen to come across with one. But yes, I shared the story almost a year later. Because I wanted to settle down with my little one and my family of 5 now.
It has been a storming 2015 for us but Insya Allah that only proves our resilience and may Allah grant us ease in our journeys ahead.
Over many years, I have readers who reach out to me with queries on my wedding, my pregnancies, fashion. Those who drop me a note to seek opinion on parenting matters like "What stroller should I get?". Please keep them coming if you have any to ask. I am more than happy to reply.
Till the next news on pregnancy and delivery. I am not planning on another one soon because I want to spend a little more time with the 3 children. Rania is growing up too fast and Riduan and Radiah are always fighting for my attention.
No, I am not done yet, Insya Alllah! May Allah give me health, strength and rezeki!
Amin!
