Pisti Ka Pain

I noticed Laya had taken to snorting like a pig through feedings, without the expected porcine appetite the other day. We were set to go to the beach the next day for sunlight and saltwater to help heal my lady-parts. I thought we should pay the pedia a visit just to get the snorting and wheezing checked. He was diagnosed with mild pneumonia and sent to the hospital for antibiotics.

I, the big neurotic, broke down in mommy's office as we discussed what could have led to the pneumonia. He'd only had it for a day, so the waterbirth was ruled out. Maybe it was how he was always naked. Maybe it was how we lived in a nipa house in the mountains, where the summer sun baked us hot in the mornings, while the breeze blew us cold in the evenings. Maybe it was how mommy and daddy kept sneezing. Maybe it was how we were always generous with kisses. Maybe it was my laziness in burping him after feeding. Maybe it was the angle at which I was feeding him.

Argh. I feel like a bad mom. For all my naningness, it seemed I missed the obvious rules on newborn parenting. My own mom told me to pull myself together, that this was just the beginning.

After the IV was inserted, and the doctor administered a nasal spray, his appetite returned and the wheezing all but stopped. He still has mucous in his nostrils, and we're supposed to finish the antibiotics, so we're still here.

One of my aunts came to visit and noticed the IV stopped dripping, and there was a spot of blood on the bandages where the needle's supposed to be connected to a vein - all indications that the dextrose was no longer connected and needed to be reattached. I asked Chris to go with the nurse while reattachment was done.

Meanwhile, I sit here, cursing the world of pain Malaya is entering. Nevermind that he's only smiling through it and healing faster than expected.

I am honestly embarrassed by my wussiness in the face of my baby's pain. He's a strapping young fellow with an infectious laughter, never mind that we have no idea what he's laughing at (probably his neurotic mommy), why should I worry?

Man, how is this kid going to be able to ever do cool things like cliff diving; coconut tree climbing; bungee jumping; wolf wrestling; etc. etc. if mommy's afraid of a few bugs and needles?

I'm sorry baby. I need to work on these nerves of mine. I'm just glad you're not empathizing and crying out for me.

Here Comes The Sun

Lola D: What changes happened to you today Nanak?
Mommy: Diaper Changes.
Daddy: Lots of them

@.@

The little charmer is a poop machine. Chris says it's silly for anyone to hoist guilt on their kids for the millions of nappy changes. When you're this cute, caring is a COMPULSION.

It's also hard to resent him for sleepless nights, because he doesn't cry. He opens his mouth noiselessly moving his tongue around for food. He squirms and stretches when he feels like pooping. He gets riled up over the urge to pee, turning red all over. He goes to sleep without much ceremony. When he isn't sleepy hungry or poopy, he lies there, eyes wide open, silently glancing around the room. But he doesn't cry.

He laughs though. He smiles and opens his mouth wide, his body shaking. What do newborns find funny? Who knows. There is just too much joy from this kid. I refuse to believe it's just gas.

The Beatles' "Here comes the sun" was one of the songs in my birthing playlist. This boy is my Sun card indeed.

1 Week Old Malaya

Breastfeeding isn't as painful anymore. My angle was all wrong. It still hurts, specially when he clamps onto the nipple faster than I can get all of it in. Props to Ninong Jerome for linking me to the La Leche League Website. xD

No serene nursing photos for juu. At least not yet.

Chris and I ran out of clothes yesterday. Chris just packed light, while I didn't have too many shitproof/breastfeeding friendly clothes. Lola Diana suggested we leave the baby in her airconditioned office while we go Ukay-ukay crazy.

Spell separation anxiety. >.<

Day 6: Jaundice looks good against maroon

This kid amazes me. Remember how he kicked his own umbilical cord off? Look at that bellybutton heal! Also, both his ears are pointed. You guys know any brown elves he can cosplay as?

Postpartum Postsmartum Paranoia

There's something a lot of people leave out when they tell you about pregnancy - they don't tell you you'd feel like a Tikbalang had his way with you in the aftermath.

But if the Horse was Khal Drogo, it wouldn't be rape.

My. Whole. Body. Hurts.

They also don't say much about how difficult breastfeeding can be. Malaya doesn't have tongue tie. I just didn't know how to feed him. We're also still learning, and although the learning curve is painful, a rock hard breast is worse than a scratched nipple. VCO's been a wonderful nipple cream btw.

And much less likely were the chances of anyone warning me about how much of a hassle it is to bring around baby's still intact umbilical cord and placenta.

Gratuitious Photos of the Day

Malaya's second day out the uterus. Photos by Daddy Chris.

Malaya's a sweetheart. He's relatively well behaved, he cries for obvious reasons and stops immediately after the concern is met. 

Achievement Unlocked: Released the kracken

Alternative title: Happy Birthday Malaya Chawdhury-Linaban!

I really didn’t think it was going to be today (or yesterday by the time of this posting). Maybe he knew his paternal lola was arriving from the states early next month and that he needed to give mommy time to recuperate before we could cross the sea to Cebu. Maybe he was just your typical Arian – always rushing into things, just like mommy. Maybe it was the halo-halo we had the day before.

I woke up at 6:30 with what felt like menstrual cramps. I don't know how many times I've read that phrase at the beginning of the scores of birth stories I've read over the months but it just didn't seem real now that it was actually happening to me. On autopilot, I went to the bathroom and took a huge dump - the biggest since getting knocked up. I knew then that this was definitely labor, but couldn't imagine I'd have a baby at the end of the day.

Week 38: Summer and Sugar

2 weeks left in the waiting game.

If I haven't been posting much, it's because the father creature has been keeping me sufficiently entertained. We've developed this game where we knock on the belly and baby knocks back. When he starts communicating in morse code, I'll let you know.

Braxton hicks contractions happen frequently, and there's been a significant increase in pelvic pain, specially in bed. The uterus feels like it's reached under my bust. It certainly hurts there now. Every morning the past week, I wake up in slight irritable pain wondering if it's going to be the day I lose my plug and meet my tenant.

Another new thing is a craving for the almighty halo halo.

It's a hot summer to say the least. If I didn't have the electric fan's constant attention, I'd melt in a pool of whale blubber faster than you can say "Chill".

Week 37: Any Day Now

Friends and colleagues from Cebu came to our town for a guerrilla public screening we put together at the municipal hall. Hence there being no updates since last week.

Baby's considered full term now. Baby watch begins this week til week 42. Father creature is staying with me til we're all patched up and ready to go back to Cebu. For the night is dark and full of terrors. The only time I feel like my old mobile self again is in the sea. Gravity is no friend of mine. Baby no longer kicks as much as he used to, but he does a lot of pushing around now. Daddy does this game with him that's almost like whac-a-mole whenever a baby ass or elbow or foot pushes against my belly.

this has never happened to us though.

There's nothing like waiting for a baby. We meet new people all the time, some of which become important to us. But with babies, you have 9 months of fair warning that your life is going to be changed forever. The closest thing I can compare this anticipation to is when you're waiting for a highly anticipated movie to appear on pirate bay. This feeling, multiplied a thousand times over.

I worry about meeting the baby. I'm not afraid of the birthing process, it's the aftermath that scares me. What if, for all this excitement, the actual meeting becomes anticlimactic? What if there's something wrong with my body, and I don't get that oxytocin cocktail skin-to-skin contact within the first hour of birth's supposed to bring? What if I haven't completely purged myself of expectation and get depressed that baby looks too much like the assholes I was pissed at during the first trimester? What if in my depression, I throw the kid to the pits?

Here's hoping kid's cool enough to survive.

I guess we'll see.

Week 36: Reflections on peeing on a stick

Homestretch folks!

Uncle Karl and Auntie Deanne took me to the beach yesterday. I enjoyed momentary weightlessness while they enjoyed real live National Geographic, watching a Dugong in its natural habitat.

My latest photo

I stopped waking up thirsty in the middle of the night. My hormones might have settled down. I don’t think baby’s dropped yet. I feel like he’s quickly losing space inside and protesting with fist raised. At least I think it’s his fist on my lower abdominal area, since the knife stab-like jabs to the rib from what is presumably his feet have become frequent, especially when I play him certain beat-based tunes. This week found us playing Alt-J (Thank you Tito Russ for the intro), which he’s very responsive to. Give this a listen:

No nursery rhymes for this boy. I enjoy watching my belly make waves throughout the song. It’s like I learned a new dance move without even trying. With all this movement though, baby has been cephalic presentation from the get-go and doesn't seem to want to make any major changes to that. I hope he doesn't suddenly turn at week 37 or summink.

In celebration of Easter and things-on-sticks, OffbeatFamilies posted the question of how women reacted to peeing on a stick andcoming up with the two lines.

I remember how mine went. While we were shooting Aberya, I was cranky, tired, constantly out-of-it, and very very emotional. Despite being hungry, my usual barbarian appetite was nonexistent. A month after shooting indefinitely wrapped, I was down with what I thought was ulcer.