My Labor Story (Part I)

Growing up, I dreamt to be many things, but being a young mother was never one of them. But now that I am one, my beautiful baby boy feels like a dream come true. Weird how God works - blessing me with something that I didn't even know I wanted and/or needed. So this is me reliving one of the best days of my life. This is my labor story.

Friday, 15th May 2015

Hafiz and I had planned to go to the baby fair that was happening during the weekend weeks beforehand. We still had a couple of things that we needed to buy before we welcome our little one. As a matter of fact, our weekend was revolved around preparing for the arrival of our baby. Besides attending the baby fair, we had also planned to rearrange and/or spring clean our mess of a room to make space for the little guy. Weekends are the only time where we can actually get things done due to our full-time jobs, thus the forty-eight hours we have at the end of every week is eminently crucial. There was basically so much to do in so little time. But that week in particular, I had requested to be excluded from work on Monday so that I can get more things done. Before we said our goodnights, we had gone through our things-to-buy list together - carseat, diapers, bathtub, carrier... amongst other things. I had also texted a friend to confirm our lunch plans for the following day. With fluffed pillows, alarms set, and lights turned off, we cuddled to sleep.

Saturday, 16th May 2015
6.30AM - I was woken up by an intense pain in my abdomen and lower back. It was my first time feeling that kind of pain throughout my whole pregnancy, but I was only 36 weeks pregnant then, hence I didn't think much of it. Besides, it was just like one of my bad period pain days. "Perhaps this is what they call Braxton Hicks...", I thought to myself. Performed my Fajr prayers, and went back to bed in hopes that the pain will go away when I wake up.

9.30AM - Hafiz woke me up, and asked me if I still wanted to go to the baby fair. Half asleep and in pain, I dragged myself to the toilet.

"Mm, sayang? I don't think we can go to the baby fair." Me.
"Huh? Why?" Hafiz.
"I'm bleeding." Me.
"What?! Banyak ke?!" Hafiz.
"Quite lah. Can you help me call Azi (my gynae's asisstant), and ask her what we should do." Me.
"OK, OK." Hafiz.

I took my time in the shower - not really feeling anything. It was only when Hafiz told me that he was asked to bring me straight to the labor department, that I started feeling rather apprehensive. I immediately texted my mom to let her know what was happening. Thank goodness I had listened to her, and had packed my hospital bag way beforehand. After I had gotten myself ready, I sat on the bed, and watched my husband pace back and forth across our room while gathering his things. Surprisingly, he was more anxious than I was. After he was done packing, we looked at each other and just hugged in silence. I remember it so clearly because I think it was at that moment that we realized that our lives were going to go through a major transition after this trip to the hospital. We stayed that way for awhile.

10.30AM - On the way to the hospital, we made a pit stop at the petrol station to get some snacks - Ribena (seriously guys, this was my #1 energy booster), candies, buns, etc. Another occurrence to prove that my husband was more nervous than I was was that he had suddenly forgotten the way to the hospital despite him always accompanying me to my monthly prenatal check-ups. That made me forget about the pain I was feeling for a little while.

We reached the hospital, and I insisted that I walk from the parking lot together with my husband instead of him dropping me off at the lobby. As instructed, we went straight to the labor department. A nurse had then led us into a room, and asked us to wait in there until someone comes to assist us. The room was huge - bigger than any hospital rooms I've ever been in. There's a bed, a toilet, a couch, a couple of chairs, oh cool - there's even an extra sink... Hey, what's this spotlight for? That's odd - why is there a table of apparatuses over there? Wait a minute...

"IS THIS THE ROOM THAT I'M GONNA GIVE BIRTH IN?!" Cue panic attack.

A few minutes later, a nurse came in and said that she wanted to check how far dilated I was. I remember having a conversation with my colleagues in which one of them told us that doctors and/or nurses have to insert their fingers inside your lady parts in order to check your dilation (/gulp). I gave Hafiz a look that probably reeked of terror, and he immediately held my hand.

"Hmm, I can't seem to find your cervix. Hold on just a sec." And she walks out.

"What does she mean she can't find my cervix?! Did you see the amount of blood she had on her gloves?!" Obviously I was freaking out. Hafiz tried his best to reassure me that everything was going to be fine. The nurse came back with a superior and she too proceeded to check my dilation. Yikes, here we go again. One centimeter. Still a long way to go, she said. In the mean time, the nurse suggested that I go out and have a feast because in her words, "It'll be a while till you get to eat good food again". But before she could let me go off on my food run, we had to wait for my doctor to come and check me up.

Yumm, salmon sashimi...

(To be continued...)

Monochrome

Cotton On striped dress

Cotton On denim jacket

Charles and Keith shoes

____

When one opens the doors to my closet(s), they would instantly notice the lack of color amongst the chaotic mess. Black, white, grey, army green, black, more black, etc. No, I am not one of those who obsesses over the coordination of colors of my wardrobe, nor am I the type of person who chooses to wear only a certain amount of colors. It is all unintentional and by pure chance. As a matter of fact, I hadn't realized my penchant for monochromatic colors until a colleague had questioned my choice to suddenly stumble into work in a multicolored tie-dye cardigan. 

On a different note, what you might notice there is my five months baby bump playing peek-a-boo with the world. Still feels surreal that there is another life growing inside of me. All praise to the Almighty. More of that soon.

Journey To Getting Hitched (Part 2)

God had other plans, however. Not long after my dad made the statement of wanting to have a man-to-man talk with Hafiz, he started developing severe back pains -- severe enough to land him a three-month long medical leave from work. With the uncertainty of when my dad would resume work, and the possibility of him having to undergo a major surgery, we had to put all marriage talks aside. After numerous trips to a myriad of doctors, hours of physical therapy, and nights of worrying, my dad got better -- slowly but surely. In the midst of my dad's recovery, my grandma had succumbed to liver cancer. It was a very dark moment for us all, given that it was the first death within the family. With that said, it took our family quite some time to get used to the absence of our beloved Nanny/Mama. 

Even though discussions regarding a possible union were put on hold, the idea was never fully ignored. My parents would talk about the matter with me from time to time, making sure that I hadn't changed my mind. With God's will, my dad got so much better by the time March arrived. His doctor and physicist had both given him the thumbs up to get back on the plane. And then the moment came... the man-to-man talk (/shivers). My dad insisted that the talk should be just between the two of them, and no one else. Quiet as a mouse, I sat on the stairs whilst eagerly trying to make out what was exchanged between the two. It didn't take me long to give the mission up though. Who would have thought that the talk would last for four hours. Yes, four long hours. I didn't know what to think of it -- did it mean that they got along really well, or did my dad use those hours to cover up a murder scene... (/gulp). Thank the Lord it wasn't the latter. During the talk, it was decided that both parents would meet the next coming weekend to discuss the matter even further whilst Hafiz and I attend the compulsory pre-marital course. Another crucial thing that was agreed on by the two was that Hafiz and I would not see each other until the day of the wedding -- a wedding that was yet to have a date. I was genuinely upset that he would agree to such thing. Within the two and half years we had been together (+ some months before), we had never been apart except for that one time I went to the UK for a family vacation. And here he was suggesting that we do not meet and limit all contacts in the next, what... three months? But he assured me that it was going to be worth it, and it is something that he had to do, for him, myself, and our future. 

Our last 'date' was during the pre-marital course, and it was also then that it all felt real to me. "Wow, this is really happening. We are really getting married." I thought to myself about only half a million times. And whilst we were in the mosque, our parents were having their own little meeting. Yikes. I kept on sneaking text messages to my mom to see how everything was going, but of course she refused to spare me any details via the telephone. But Alhamdulillah, with just one meeting, our parents had managed to mutually agree on a date -- 15th of June 2014. My dad had made it clear from the start -- he wanted to take the easiest route. Why make the process of completing half your deen arduous? Everything was surpassingly straightforward and painless that most times it didn't feel like I was going to tie the knot in three months' time. No entourage were sent to ask for my hand, no overpriced fancy-schmancy engagement, no ludicrous conditions and/or demands were set, no nothing. I realize now that marriage is made difficult due to our culture. If things are planned based on Islam, almost nothing is burdensome. Most parents have too high of an expectation when it comes to choosing partners for their children. All my dad asked was if I was confident that Hafiz could lead me closer to Allah. He didn't ask me how much Hafiz earns, what kind of car Hafiz drives, or if Hafiz lavishes me with branded goods. It wasn't because my dad didn't care, but it was because all that do not matter. If you do things purely for the sake of Allah, He will make things easy for you, and it will all eventually fall into place. All you have to do is put your trust in Him.

And that meant that we really had to stay away from each other. To genuinely purify our intentions of getting married for the sake of Allah. Many people gave me bewildered reactions whenever I tell them that Hafiz and I are staying away from each other until the day of our wedding. "How are you going to plan your wedding if you don't see each other?","But what is wrong with seeing each other? Just don't do anything you're not supposed to!","But, wwwwhyyyy?","Aren't you worried that it'll drive you guys apart instead?","I don't think that's necessary.", and all things simultaneous to those. To describe the three months as being difficult would be an understatement to say the least. It was a very intense and emotionally-straining period, especially on my side, given that I didn't understand the purpose of it all in the beginning. But thinking about it now, I'm glad that we went on with the three-month hiatus. It blossomed our relationship into one that is much more genuine and powerful. And the feeling of seeing him for the first time on the day of our union was... (/sigh) nothing short of beautiful.

And that was that. Before I knew it, I became someone's wife. And I wouldn't trade the life I have now for anything.