All I Want Are Rain and Patience

Slightly more than a week into motherhood-round-two, life has changed very much and at the same time, not changed at all. :perplexed:

(I realise that by the time I finish this, it would already be 2 weeks of motherhound-round-two.)

1. I Turned Mad

My 4-day stay at the hospital coincided with Huda experiencing a terrible bout of cough. She would have a long coughing fits in the middle of the night which would leave her all tired and cranky the next day because of a lack of sleep. Her naps were also similarly interrupted so she never could make up for the lack of sleep at night with a longer nap in the day. She was always asking for me. Her appetite was affected, of course.

When I finally came home, she was still suffering from her cough.

I'm not *that* particular about many things but I will turn into quite a monster if she refuses to eat. It doesn't help that I was feeling all hot and bothered after childbirth - what with the pain from the c-section, the abdominal binder which made my stomach too warm, the perpetual smell of stale milk, the extra heat gained from having to use breast pads to soak up the leaky milk and to top it off so perfectly, the unbearably hot weather - my patience with her was at its thinnest. And she refused her dinner completely. Not once, but twice. And I lost it with her. Not once, but twice.

That was not a moment (or rather, moments) I was proud of. I was really raging mad. As in, raging mad. If I could have looked at myself from a distance, I would definitely have seen steam coming out from my ears.

Besides not eating, she simply wanted to be Miss Contrary. If you tell her to do something, she will do something else. I took her to the polyclinic with me for Farah's check-up and all she wanted to do there was lift up her shirt and show the entire world her stomach and chest. My sister and I tried to stop her but she refused, of course. She also removed her shoes and put them between her knees. She refused her baths but when she's finally in the toilet, refused to get out. Her cousin wanted the gate to be opened while she insisted that it should be closed. When I tried to bait her away from the gate with her princess-themed dress that she loved so much, she suddenly refused the dress (which she had been talking about non-stop the entire day). You get the idea, don't you?

I'm not sure whether Huda being difficult was due to her cough alone or a combination of her cough + the presence of Farah + my absence for 4 days... but I know that my reaction (to her not eating) was not normal by my standards. I am normally a lot more patient and do not turn into a raving mad lunatic so easily.

Anyway, I have since become a lot saner and got some of my patience back. She's also getting better and her coughing fits have ended after a trip to KK and being put on the Ventolin puff. It's great that I'm putting up at my parents' place for now where there are more people around to help me with the two girls since The Husband's job is keeping him in the office til late on some days.

2. Huda

Huda does not show signs of violence towards Farah. Maybe, not yet. YC has told me plenty of stories about how her firstborn treats the younger one. One of the stories involves the older one kicking the younger one off the parents' bed. Scary, or what? So, everyone is observing Huda closely when she gets near Farah and so far, so good. However, there was that one day when Huda had a purple pen and she wanted to draw on Farah's head. And, that same day, she tried to push Farah's head away while I was feeding Farah. That was frightening. So, close monitoring still necessary. YC also told me that sibling rivalry takes many forms, not just violence towards the little kiddo. I have a lot of reading up to do.

3. Feeding

Farah is on breastmilk for now. But she did have a bit of formula milk on the night of her birth. I was supposed to feed Farah a second time. The nurse came with Farah and she raised my bed. The bed was almost 90 degrees. Then I felt a wave of nausea bubbling up my throat. I started to vomit the lunch I had in school. After that, I still wanted to feed Farah but another round of vomiting ensued. So, in the end, I consented to Farah drinking formula milk while I tried to sleep through the night. (Which I couldn't because I kept on having dreams which involved me doing some physically-exhausting activities like running up and down the staircases in school, running across a wide open field etc etc etc.. )

The next morning, I tried again and with no vomiting, I was allowed to feed her. I would only say I was successful at feeding her after the lactation consultant came and taught me how to feed Farah using the football-hold position.

However, Farah, like her sister, does not seem to have a voracious appetite. She stayed on either side for no longer than 10 minutes and refused the other side after unlatching herself. At the hospital, she was forced to drink milk every 3 hours. The nurses would un-swaddle her, change her diapers and basically disturb her until she wakes up and cry. When her mouth was wide open, I'd just pop her source of milk into her mouth and she'd suckle away.

But, at home, she got even more comfortable. Even after changing her diapers and removing the swaddler, she would continue to sleep. I've tried everything I can think of but if she refuses to open her mouth, how can I feed her? In the end, I am engorged and I have to pump out my milk. Thankfully, Huda will unknowingly drink the milk I pumped out; she doesn't know what she's drinking.  

Still, I don't think I should worry about Farah's drinking habit. She produces the required minimum of 3 poos and 6 pees a day so that means she's getting enough milk. It's also great to know that she has gained almost 500g in one week.

4. Confinement Rituals

Errrr... almost none? I know that some people swear by it and say that observing the confinement rituals will ensure good health in future. But, I can't possibly wrap myself up llike it's winter when the weather is this unbearable. And, ultimately, my sanity is a thousand times more important. However, I do try to eat food which is suitable for a woman in confinement - less spicy food, avoid that chilli crab and the like. I have not gone out other than to the polyclinic for Farah's jaundice. Not so much because I am really observing the confinement rules but because I get so tired so easily.

I hope all this tiredness will go away after I've had my massage. I don't know when that is because I'm still shortlisting the makcik urut. I think I will do it after my check-up with my gynae next Wednesday. Or maybe, I'll start next Monday and not have it on Wednesday when I have my check-up.

5. My Physical Self

I still have my double chin. Wobbly wobbly. My tummy is still there too. Wobbly wobbly. And well, you can just call me Ms Wobbles.

6. The Big Move

I am preparing myself to move back to my place by the beginning of next month. The one thing which I have to seriously prepare myself for is the cooking. So, now I am writing down a menu for breakfast, lunch and dinner for at least 3 weeks. (Writing down the menu is one thing; cooking it is another story...)

Oh, and, of course, there's the issue with the lift. WHEN WILL IT EVER BE READY?! The Husband has been making trips back home to pick up stuff and he does not have an optimistic outlook on the lift situation. Argh!