Down time

My little boy is sick again. If you were in the loop, you'd know that just a couple of weeks back, he had a fever due to teething. And now, here he is again, warm and sick. Poor baby.

I am refraining from telling my parents about this for number of reasons. First off, they'd probably exclaim how often he falls sick. Then I'd have to listen to them tell me tales from yesteryear of how my siblings and I hardly ever fell sick. They would then go on to the importance of proper nutrition and feeding them proper food.

Basically, I hate being told I'm not doing it right. I understand that they have their Grandkids best interest at heart and only want the best for them. But I don't see why they need to chew me up in the process.

I don't feed them processed food all the time. I make sure they eat their multivitamins, drink their milk and eat their vegetables. But that's life. If they're gonna fall sick, they will.

As I type this, I'm breathing through my mouth because my nose is congested. If you follow my tweets I'm sure you would know that I've been complaining about it. Naturally, the boy has caught the bug too.

We co-sleep because he is still being breastfed and wakes up several times at night to do so. As a result, he is close to all the coughing, hacking and throat clearing that I do. It's totally unavoidable. (I would be lying if I said I was hoping he'd not catch it though.) He was coughing this morning and immediately I knew he was falling sick. True enough, he started developing a mild temperature come evening time.

Gave him some paracatemol and that brought down the temperature. But it's back up again tonight. I'm hoping he won't need anymore meds come tomorrow.

Do I have a point to this post? Not really. Perhaps, a little more understanding from the parental units would be nice. I try my best to raise my kids the best that I can but sometimes, shit happens. The best I can do then is just clean up the mess. Asking more from me is just, too much.

I know I've been complaining about my stuffy nose, sore throat and headaches, but I'd trade getting better early for my boy's speedy recovery. I hate being sick but I hate my kids being sick even more.

Remedies for my ailment, there are aplenty, but there isn't any for a worried heart. Get well soon, baby boy.

Birth story: The boy

Unlike his sister, whose arrival into this world was unplanned and chaotic, sid's delivery date was set 2 weeks in advance.

The doc started talking about the delivery months in advance, suggesting dates to us. We had to plan the c-sect around the husband's work schedule to ensure that he would be able to spend the longest amount of time with me as he was not entitled to any leave at that point in time.

After a lot of going back an forth, the date was set for Sept 12th, 2010. I was told to go to the hospital early in the morning to be checked in and prepped for surgery.

The night before, I started feeling very anxious and scared. This was new to me, as I didn't have any time to feel this way with iliya. Iliya's c-sect was an emergency one and when it happened I was already having mild contractions. My mind was focused on the pain instead of being anxious about the surgery that was about to happen. Needless to say, I it very little sleep that night. I was actually a little scared despite having gone through it once before.

The morning came soon enough and we hustled out of the door to get to the hospital. I was less anxious and a feeling of excitement was slowly creeping in on me.

When we got to the hospital, we checked in at the lobby. I was given my patient id tag and was wheeled to my room. There, I was instructed to get out of my clothes in into the hospital robe.

While waiting around for the nurse to come around and prep me, we entertained Iliya by snapping photos of her and with her. I was feeling rather sentimental because in a few hours she would no longer be our only child, our baby girl.

The nurses finally came and started prepping me for surgery. I was cleaned, purged, and the dreaded catheter was put in place. For some odd reason, I stupidly agreed to allow a trainee nurse to insert it. I was thinking, "I should let her cause it'll help her in her learning." It is safe to say that I regretted that decision later when she failed to get it in on the first try. It took her 2 tries to finally get it in. This is the worst part of a c-sect delivery for me. The catheter insertion. Hate it!

After some time, I was wheeled into OT. There I lay alone till it was my turn for surgery. My bed was right next to the nurses station so I could hear all the gossip that was going on. As it was close to Raya at that time, most conversations was about fireworks and rendang. There was this one nurse walking around taking orders for sparklers and noise makers.

It was finally my turn and I was moved to the operation table. Epidural was administered by a kind lady doctor who's name escapes me at this time. Soon I was feeling numb from the waist down. I started feeling cold, side effects of the epidural. My doc arrived, said hello and got to work. I could see what was going on as there was a cloth covering my bottom half.

After about 10 - 15 minutes, the doctor started pushing down on me to get baby out. Moments later, the wonderful sound of a newborns cry was heard. I did not cry this time, but that doesn't mean I was any less happy or grateful that my baby boy Ilyas Sid, was finally here.

Unlike his sister, who was born with very little hair, Sid was born with a full head of hair! That was the first thing the doctor exclaimed. "Banyaknya rambut dia nurul!" The nurse brought baby to my side, showed me his fingers, toes, and little birdy a little too close to my face. I was instructed to kiss him once and he was whisked away to nursery to be cleaned up.

After being closed up, I was wheeled into recovery where I slept for about an hour or two. I was then wheeled back to my room where the husband was already waiting for me. I was still under the effects of the epidural so I felt no pain. About an hour later though, the pain started. I didn't want to be a hero this time and asked for pain killers the moment people cleared the room.

Was able to see baby around 6-7p.m. I tried to nurse him but he was more interested in sleep. He hardly drank and when he did, it was only for a short while. I was a little worried but decided to chill and just go with his flow.

My parents arrived later that evening with my brother. They stayed a while and took the girl out to Ikea. Unfortunately, they couldn't stay over as there were some renovation being done to the house in JB, so they when back the same day.

I stayed in the hospital for two nights. The husband didn't sleep over this time as he had to be home with iliya. They visited me early morning and left before visiting hours were over. Iliya thoroughly enjoyed my stay in the hospital cause she got to eat in bed while watching tv! She even napped in my bed. Thankfully, the bed wasn't small.

Didn't get too many visit from the lactation consultant this time round but it was okay, because I already knew what to do. Breastfeeding was a breeze and I didn't suffer any sore nipples like the last time, thankfully.

The boy slept with me in the room and was only wheeled back to the nursery when he had to be weighed and checked. I even cleaned his icky black poop on my own! It was trying as I was in a lot of pain but I managed so I didn't have to send him back.

After being discharged, I stayed in shah alam for a couple of days more, to wait for Hari Raya. After having some lemang and spending some time with the family, we left for Johor where I spent the next 44 days in confinement.

And that concludes the birth story of my darling baby boy, Ilyas Sid.