Finally… The Wedding

It’s set. My brother is getting married end of this year to his fiancée. The date is 28th December 2007. Well, the akad nikah will happen on that day, Insya Allah. I was hoping that they’ll get married early next year but apparently, his fiancée’s mother had been pushing and pestering him (yet again) on the wedding date. I am so ‘menyampah’ and quite thankful really that she’s not my mother-in-law.

The engagement itself which happened in mid-May this year was also another spectacle. Her mother was so noisy, talking to her friends loudly even during the important discussion between my side and hers. It was so ‘kampung-like’. And the funny part was that, her family gave my family three options on the dowry or ‘duit hantaran’. Option 1 is to give all the duit hantaran to her family half way before the wedding date. Option 2 is give half of the duit hantaran half way before the wedding date. Option 3 is to give the whole of the duit hantaran on the wedding date. I was annoyed when I heard it. The duit hantaran was supposed to be used to start off the couple’s married life, not to give to her family to cater for THEIR wedding expenses. Well that’s the way I see it. If others see differently, then let them. The three options itself was enough to make me mad. Furthermore, her mother wanted them to be married in August. And me, being a person who could not conceal my expression, I was mad and furious. But I quickly hid my face behind my fan (which I was waving like mad because I was hot). What makes me even more mad was the fact that when the negotiator said that the wedding may not happen in August, with a ‘selamba’ face she said, “Tak kisah. Kita ikut ajer”. Ironically the negotiator said, “Eh tak kisah pulak. Tadi iyer-iyer nak suruh buat bulan lapan”. I mean, how hypocritical is that? I was damn furious and I know Ibu and the rest of my relatives ‘memang menyampahlah’.

Well, when it comes to that sort of thing, my brother suddenly does not know what to do. I bet that if her mother pushes him to give all the duit hantaran half way before the wedding date, he will definitely do it. My Acik and I have told him that we will give the duit hantaran during the wedding in a form of a bank draft bearing his fiancée’s account number and name. What happens then, we leave it to God. Whenever I think about it, I become so ‘menyampah’. The nerve. I hope her family won’t take any advantage of my brother and that my brother does not forget that he also has parents to go back to. So takderlah everytime nak balik B***** jer. Belum apa-apa lagi, my brother wants to rent a place in Bukit Jalil, near his future sister-in-law’s house. He said it’s near the LRT station so he doesn’t have to send the future wife to work. I wonder who gave him that idea. Gosh, I despise the family already.

But in support of my brother, I will try assist him in the wedding preparation in any way that I can. After all, I am the oldest in the family and I know that though he does not say it out loud, he definitely needs my approval and help.

Miss Single Life

I am 30 (well, I still have a few more months before turning 31), married to a wonderful man, have two children (it’s kind a cool that I can say two instead of one…hehehe), have a secure job (though I may beg to differ on the pay) and a roof over my head which I’m not renting, but actually own. Yeah, I guess life couldn’t be better. But sometimes, on those rare occasions, I miss being single. I don’t WISH to be single, but yes… I do MISS being single. There is a difference between the two.

My single life before I got married was fantastic. I hung out with friends even on working nights. We didn’t go clubbing or anything, it was basically just hanging out in Subang eating kuey teow goreng or roti canai at the mamak shop. Catch up on latest gossips and talk about eligible handsome guys. Those girls know who they are. Sometimes, these girls would bring their friends along and we would get to know them. It was just way super cool.

I also hung out with my Seremban buddies quite a lot. When I was still working at the Maxis Tower, I would meet the guys nearly everyday. I would take the LRT to Kelana Jaya and they would pick me up there. Again, we didn’t go clubbing or anything. We just hung out at Steven’s at Damansara Uptown and chit chat. Though we met nearly everyday, there would always be stuff to talk about. Sometimes I would go to their apartment. There was this one time, I went to Black’s apartment. He was supposed to get ready for dinner but he was late as usual. So I waited for him at his apartment. While waiting for him, his cousin came with his girlfriend. We exchanged a few introductory words and I continued to watch TV. Imagine my surprise when I heard kissing and smooching noises at the back. I was shocked. But I dared not turn my head to see what they were doing. Instead, I got up, knocked hard on Black’s door and asked him to hurry up. All I wanted to do was get out of the apartment. When I told Black what I heard, he laughed hard. Well sorry, I thought it was gross.

We also went places to hang out. Like at the beach (never further than Port Dickson, I don’t know why) and at Sunway Lagoon. Sunway Lagoon was cool. There were seven of us and each of us had their own crazy behaviour and that made Sunway Lagoon one of my most favourite memories. Either way, I will treasure those memories very much. We were so close-knitted that we were like a family. My parents believe them very much that they didn’t mind I went places with them. All of them, except Black, are married now. And I know for sure that they cherish the memories as well.

With another set of Seremban friends, we hung out on weekends. We would always go out for supper at Seremban 2 or Bashir (a mamak shop in Seremban). We would return in the early morning. Fortunately my parents were alright with it. Well, they knew who I hung out with. But I have to admit that Ayah was a bit worked up about it. He was constantly reminding me not to come back too late. Ibu surprisingly was ok with it. I guess she trusted that I wouldn’t do anything stupid. And yes, I don’t think I did anything stupid.

It was lucky that my dearest Bie didn’t control me before I got married. I could hang out with any friend I wanted, be it male or female and all I had to do was just inform him, not seek permission. There is a difference between the two. And that was how I treated him as well. Though we had each other, I still went on life with my friends. He still went to HRC with his friends. I thought that kind of relationship was cool. In fact even after we’re married, he still let me out with my friends. I believe that you shouldn’t stop seeing your friends just because you got married. Sometimes, when you have problems, you need your girlfriends more than your husband. I’m not saying that the husband doesn’t understand, but sometimes a girlfriend’s ear is more comforting. Trust me. Been there, done that.

So yeah, looking back, I do miss single life. You can do so much when you’re single. There is no issue of leaving your kids behind or when you go places, there is no need to pack a lot of bags or worry about the number of extra clothes you should bring for your kids. But, that doesn’t mean that I don’t treasure my life now. I am thankful that I have a family that I can call my own. Not disrespecting my parents or anything, but I love having a nucleus family of my own. Being a wife and a mother isn’t so bad. Different, yet challenging. So, even though I do miss being single, I don’t think I would trade it for my current life. For now.

Disappointment

Have you ever felt disappointed at a certain somebody but you can’t really say it out loud to her or his face? I know I have. Many times. But I suppressed my disappointment. I tell myself that every act done comes with a sacrifice. I am sacrificing my feelings though how hurt it may be while that somebody is also probably making similar sacrifices only I may not understand them as a sacrifice. Am I making any sense?... [sigh]

I never do like confinement period. In fact, I hate it. I feel vulnerable and sick. I can’t do much of work. I move slow and thinking about it make me depressed. The whole ‘berpantang’ ritual isn’t working for me this time round. Compared to when I had Marsya that is. And when you’re at this vulnerable place, the feeling of disappointment can quickly screw your head and you wouldn’t be able to think straight. I don’t want to call it the post-natal depression period because I don’t think I’m THAT depressed. But then again, what do I call it? The honeymoon period?

This disappointment has been with me for quite a while now. I don’t know how to say it to that somebody without either one of us getting hurt. It’s such a difficult thing to do. Do you think I should just let myself sink into this self-pity hole and consider it as a sacrifice? I don’t know what to think anymore. It’s just so frustrating sometimes.

Oh gosh, what am I rambling about... Don’t worry about it. I’m just not myself these days. Or probably it’s the lack of fresh air and sun that’s making me depressed. I can’t wait to complete my confinement period. I am so in need of a coffee and pineapple juice. And knowing Ibu, I don’t think she would allow me to have those drinks. Heck, I can’t wait to go to Starbuck or Coffee Bean soon for a cup of nice and tasty coffee. Or a black coffee at any kopitiam outlet. That would be good too.

… but why do I still feel disappointed?

Thank You

Who doesn’t argue with their other half, eh? I mean, everyone does, right? I know that there have been countless times that I argued with my dearest Bie. They’re all over small things. Things which other people find they’re ok with but to me, they’re just huge. That’s me, being ever so dramatic.

Put aside all those petty things, Bie has been nothing but wonderful (at times) and helpful. When I was at the hospital, Bie was there for me the whole time. In fact, he stayed at the hospital with me. He helped me bathe, wear my clothes, put ointment on my tummy and feet and later put my socks on, expressed breast milk (with a breast pump, ok… don’t get any ideas… at that time, I had trouble sitting up straight and pumping milk simultaneously coz it was the day after my surgery), took crap from me when I was in pain, and the list goes on and on.

Looking back, I felt really thankful for having a husband like that. Sure he’s not Mr Romantic and he can be very oblivious to his surroundings at times… but when I needed help, he was there for me. Emotionally and physically. When I was jabbed with morphine, he sat next to me and put his hand on my head and played with my hair until I fell asleep. When I was uncomfortable at night, he would prop up pillows on my sides and lowered the bed for me. He would also cover my body with a blanket to ensure that I didn’t get cold. In fact, whenever I needed something, he was always there for me. Never grunting, he just went ahead and did it.

During my confinement, I had to send my daughter to my Aunty’s place because my mother couldn’t afford to take care of me, my baby and her. Since my so-called maid hasn’t arrived yet (yeah, I am deciding to take a maid), Ibu has difficulty taking care of everything. And Bie is not with me everyday. He comes back only on weekends, with Marsya. And oh God, it’s just so difficult not having my daughter around. I cried every time I hear her voice on the phone. Anyway, Bie has been taking good care of Marsya. Since I have the baby to take care of together with the fact that I am still not strong enough, Bie has been doing much of the work. Bathing Marsya, feeding her, ‘layan-ing’ her, washing her poo-poo, making her milk, etc… etc. I can’t thank him enough for that. I know that he’s the father, so he should be doing all that. But I do know of certain fathers who would run a thousand miles if they smell poo-poo on their children.

So Bie, thank you very much for everything. You have been great. I pray that we can be there for each other until fate tells us otherwise… Insya Allah.

Things You'll Just Never Forget

The Pain

I felt the pain since Saturday, but because they were irregular and bearable, I never mentioned the pain to anyone. Besides, I wasn’t sure whether the pains were actually contraction pains. I know that I have already given birth before and it still wasn’t that long ago, but I wasn’t sure whether the pains were contraction pains. I kept thinking that they were probably gasses because I wasn’t eating.

The pains came and went. I wasn’t about to go to the hospital because the pains were probably false alarms. But I did tell my dearest Bie about it. He was relaxed as well. I guess the hospital being very near the house and all, he wasn’t particularly worried. So we still went out to have dinner. In fact, on Monday we went to TGI at the Life Centre. We were stuffed. I had trouble getting up and my big stomach wasn’t helping much.

On Wednesday, Bie had to go to Seremban for a meeting. I was left alone at the house. Somehow, I felt a little worried. But I was confident that nothing would happen. After all the pains were there since Saturday. But at 6pm, the pains became more frequent. Every 20 to 15 minutes or so. And whenever the pains came, I would be sweating heavily, as a result of trying to alleviate the pains. Bie was still in Seremban. My mind was telling me that I had to go to the hospital but there was no one to take me there.

At 7.30pm, the pains were becoming unbearable. I had to hold on to tables, chairs and Bie’s stereo speaker to stand the pain. Big sweats were rolling down my forehead and cheeks. I called Bie. He was on his way home (and driving like mad…). But he was in Nilai. Still a long way to go. As I was leaning against the speaker, the doorbell rang. I opened the door and there stood my sister-in-law. She received a call from Bie and her husband and rushed to the house to see how I was doing. I could barely stand up. She was a little panicky and immediately took me to the hospital.

The Wait

We reached the hospital at 8pm. The doctor just left so the nurse checked me. My opening was only about 1 to 2 cm. I was disappointed. I wanted to go back. But the nurse told me that I had to be warded. Man, how I hated it. I prefer to face the contraction pains at home, not the hospital. But I was warded. The nurse put a certain kind of apparatus on top of my tummy to monitor the baby’s heart beat. At the same time, it was also monitoring my contraction.

My sister-in-law, Kak Ita told Bie to go home first and sort out my ‘hospital bag’. So he went home, showered then came to the hospital. Kak Ita was at the hospital the entire time keeping me company. The contraction pains were about 8 to 10 minutes apart now. I couldn’t lie down. It was too painful. So I held on to bed posts, chairs… anything that could help me. Not long after, my in-laws came. Unfortunately, their visit was not helping. Their talking and bickering were causing me headache considering I had these pains to face. So Kak Ita told them to leave (very nicely). They left half an hour after that.

At 10.45pm, the nurse came again to check my opening. Despite the strong pains, the opening was only 2 to 3 cm. I was again disappointed. I was expecting at least 5 cm. Kak Ita sighed and predicted a long night ahead.

Bie stayed with me until after 12am. But since it was an open ward, he had to go. I was particularly sad to see Bie leave. I was in pain and I wanted him to stay with me, to just be there for me. But rules are rules, so at 12.20am, he left.

My doctor came to check on me at 12.30am. Surprisingly, she told me that my opening was already 8 cm and that I was ready to give birth. I was shocked. Less than two hours ago, it was only 2 to 3 cm. She instructed the nurses to bring me to the labour room. I called Bie and told him that I was about to be in labour. He was surprised and drove back to the hospital. At 12.50am, I was wheeled into the labour room.

The Delivery

The doctor broke my water bag and asked me whether I was ready to push. Frankly, I didn’t feel the urge to push at all. I wonder how some people said that giving birth is easy; it’s like passing motion and within the next minute, the baby pops out from beneath. Well I wasn’t like that. In fact, the feeling to push did not exist. All I could feel were the contraction pains getting stronger. So the doctor left the labour room to give me time. Bie was standing next to me, keeping me company. About 15 minutes later, the doctor came back and asked again whether I wanted to push. I replied, “No”.

But somehow or rather, the next thing I knew, I was pushing. It wasn’t because I wanted to. The feeling wasn’t there. It was more like an obligation because my water bag had broken and the doctor was standing in front of my wide opened legs.

The pains became terribly unbearable. Believe it or not, embarrassed to say this but I screamed at the top of my lungs when I had to push. It was, oh my God… VERY painful. I could stand the contractions, but the actual delivery, was oh my God. I was perspiring. I pushed as hard as I could but the baby wouldn’t pop out. I even had the time to think about how other people manage to do this without any problem. The doctor and the nurses were telling me how to push. Bie was constantly telling me to look at the doctor while pushing as it would help the baby come out. But at that point in time, I couldn’t listen to any instruction at all. I was crying, moaning and screaming in pain. I didn’t feel like pushing anymore and the fact that the doctor was inserting her fingers inside me trying to get hold of the baby’s head, wasn’t helping because it was painful.

I guess at one point, my doctor was tired of my ‘nonsense’ (I was in terrible pain) and said that I had to push or else she would c-sect me. I pushed again with all my might and with a help of a vacuum, the doctor managed to get the baby out (I could feel her inserting the vacuum inside me… well, at least I think I did). The time was 2.20am and it was a very early Thursday morning, 24th May 2007.

It was a boy. He was all purple. The nurses immediately took him to get the water out of his mouth. I was relieved. Maximum relief. I felt all the pains I had earlier disappeared into thin air. I could finally relax while the doctor stitched me up. Mind you, a lot of stitches coz I could see the thread quite long.

The doctor estimated the baby to be about 3.6kg, but imagine my surprise when the nurse weighed him, and she announced that the baby was 3.8kg. I was shocked. So did my doctor and said “No wonder you couldn’t push”. I actually sat up on the labour bed in disbelief. My baby weighed 3.8kg…

After the doctor was done with me, I was brought back to the open ward. Finally, I could rest.

The Unfortunate Further Complication

The next morning, I was really without energy. I couldn’t sit down and luckily Kak Ita was there to help me. She helped me to the toilet, she helped me with my food and she kept me company. In addition to the stitches, I had other cropping problem; hemorrhoid, which appeared with all the pushing. I had few blood clots that would not heal very well unless a surgery is done. My doctor suggested that I underwent a surgery to remove the blood clots. I was in a dilemma. Here I was trying to recuperate from my delivery but with the hemorrhoid problem, recuperating would be very difficult. After discussing with my dearest Bie, we agreed to go ahead with the surgery.

On the morning of Friday, 25th May 2007, I was wheeled into the operation theatre. I was scared. Luckily the nurses were nice and the surgeon and the anesthetist were also friendly. They tried to make me as comfortable as possible. After injecting my spine with some local anesthetics, I was asked to lie on my back and the operation began.

Thankfully I didn’t feel any pain, as a result of the local anesthetics. So whatever they did down there, I wouldn’t know. About 45 minutes or so, I was brought back to my room (I moved from the open ward to a 2-bedded room the night before). Bie was waiting for me. He kept me company for a while and left when I fell asleep.

I slept until afternoon. By late afternoon, the anesthetics began to wear off. I felt pain. Tremendous pain. I asked Bie to get me painkillers. Unfortunately the painkillers didn’t help. I was trembling and shaking with pain. Contraction pains come and go, but this pain seemed to go on forever. I asked for stronger painkillers, or anything else which would make the pain go away. The nurse came in and injected me with morphine. My arm swelled after the jab but I didn’t feel the pain. I was in too much pain from the operation. About 20 minutes later, my eyes were shut. The pains were still there but I felt them bearable. I could hear voices in the background but I had no energy to listen to them word by word. It was the first time that I became unconscious because of a drug. I only woke up at 9.30pm. By that time, the pains were controllable, thank goodness for that.

The Discharge

The next day, I had to endure pain from stitches I had due to the delivery and the operation. It was terrible. And to make matters worse, my baby had the jaundice and had to be put under the light thingy. So I couldn’t be discharged just as yet. Oh well, one more day at the hospital wasn’t so bad.

On Sunday, I was told that I can be discharged and that my baby’s jaundice had reduced; safe enough for me to take him home. I was happy. I couldn’t wait to leave the hospital and go home. So on Sunday afternoon, Bie and I brought our baby home.

Now, all I have to do is to recover during my confinement period. I have to admit that I do not like confinement period, but there’s nothing much that I can do. I just hope that I will recover fast enough so that I can take care of both my children.