Walking on Clouds

For 3 years I have been playing with the idea of getting myself one pair of super comfortable shoes for my aching feet. While I was pregnant with my first, my feet were swelling as early as 4-5 months. I was suffering immensely walking on flats, sandals, shoes -you name it. I bought em all. But all were not comfortable and not suitable for my condition.

Then one day, I tried on a pair of Hush Puppies sandals and immediately fell in love. However the price was so steep. So I put off the idea of luxury... for 3 freaking years!

Yesterday I decided to just fuck it. I bought myself this and though it cost me a bomb, it's worth it. It's like walking on clouds. 

Pregnant again!

Today I'm 12 weeks pregnant. Yay! Pregnant again! According to my doctor, another 2 weeks and I'll be in my second trimester. According to ME, I'm already pregnant 3 months plus and already in my second trimester. Because I said so.

So, the normal question: Any morning sickness. Nope. No morning sickness. No crazy craving. No fever. No stuffing my face like there's no tomorrow.

However, I did experienced bleeding (brownish in color) that the doctor said due to my womb not being that strong yet. I was only 7 weeks pregnant the first time it happened. The second time it happened was yesterday and this time the doctor said due to hormone. Whatever rocks your boat, doc.

Few days ago, I stopped drinking plain water because it tasted horrible. Whenever I gagged after drinking, I thought I was having pregnancy nausea. Only later I found out it was my taste bud that went bonkers. But today, the taste has gone and I can drink water normally and no more gagging air.

I don't eat that much these 3 months. I had such small appetite. And because of that, I didn't gain weight at all. Post pregnancy weight was 52kg and now I'm still hovering between 52kg-53kg -depends on how much water I consume on that day.

As like my previous pregnancy, I showed as early as 6 weeks. Fat? Muscle? Water retention? God knows. It's a nuisance having to explain to curious people that I was only 2-3 months pregnant and not 7 months.

I hope to deliver normal this time so I've been watching and monitoring the food I eat. Less sugar (if possible- zero sugar), less fat, let meat and more vegetables and fruits. I've been trying but it's not easy.

I don't know how to end this post. I haven't been writing much lately but lately, I have this nagging feeling of guilt for not recording down this second pregnancy so I hope to continue this guilt so I can write about it until I give birth. Insyallah.

Honeymoon?

My husband and I, believe it or not, haven't had our honeymoon yet.

As soon as we got married, we had to move into a new house. The house move took our time, energy and our entire saving. Then we went to KL, Johor and Singapore -with my whole family. Then I got pregnant and the whole vacation/traveling bug came to an abrupt halt.

Then recently, we went to Singapore for a little getaway but when you bring a baby who WAS TEETHING LOUDLY, one week felt like a million years. We came home and badly in need of another vacation from that vacation.

Our wedding anniversary is coming up and when I asked my husband what's the plan, he wistfully said he wanted to go somewhere with me, just the two of us. Aww... That's so sweet.

Wait. What? Just the two of us? What about our son?

Since Kaisan was born until now, I have not spent one night without him. Despite him being a handful, I cannot for the life of me imagine being away from him. How can I sleep at night knowing he's crying somewhere looking for me? Or worst... What if he can't remember me after being away from him for so long? ARGH!!!

This clingy mom also has another reason for not leaving her little bundle of terror -breastfeeding. I am not going to lug around a breast pump to a resort and spend most of my time pumping at the beach's changing room. And what am I going to do with all the milk I pump? Feed it to the sharks? Make mocktails?

I don't know, man. This is tougher than I thought...

But I admit, we do need a time out and badly in need of a TLC.

Hmmm? Hmmm...

Baby Making -Part 4

I just had my first ultrasound today and we saw the baby’s heartbeat but because the doctor was in a hurry (as in ‘splat gel-scan-scan-oh-here’s the heartbeat-see that-yes that’s it-here’s a tissue to wipe your tummy-done’ kinda hurry) I didn’t manage to experience the ‘awwww that’s my baby in there sob sob so touching’ moment. Nope. The next thing I know, we were shove out of the doctor’s room and standing outside with a scan image of our baby which until now, I can only see is a black blob.

When I told my friend we saw the baby’s heartbeat she cried, “OMG YOU GUISE! DID YOU CRY? Did you hear the heartbeat? Was it loud? OMG! I feel like I wanna cry!” Hate to break it to you babe but the experience was WHAM BAM THANK YOU MA’AM. I would love to have that special moment with the Mister where we can gaze lovingly at our baby in my womb and Ooooh and Aaahhh and hear the heartbeat and all but GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! (Being pregnant prevent me from cursing blue streak so yeah, grr is as much as I can muster lately. Le sigh!)

According to my calculation, I am 7 weeks pregnant today. According to the scan, I’m 6 weeks 4 days pregnant. I am so confuse and frankly, occasionally, I find myself forgetting how far long am I actually. What? I’m 6 weeks? Really? Wow. I thought I’m 7 weeks. No? What? 8 weeks? What are you doing messing up with my mind?! But whatever it is, I’m pregnant and my baby’s heart is beating steadily.

I don’t look and feel pregnant much since I don’t do the famous projectile vomiting 24/7 and craving the head of a water buffalo but I do eat a lot (STILL), sleep a lot (NO SURPRISE) and few food I’m avoiding like cheese, cold drinks (including ice cream) and milk waittaminute… Did I write about this food aversion in my last post? No? Yes? God I’m such a forgetful dingbat. But even if I did, I’ll just continue on with the same topic (which obviously tells you that I am also a lazy marsupial to go and check) and no, I don’t feel nauseous with those listed food but because cheese and cold drinks apparently gives me nasty, nasty stomachache. Like as if I just tickle a sleeping dragon when I eat pizza or pasta or ice cream and I’ll go GGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAWWWWWWGGGGHHHHHHH! It ain’t a pretty picture.

That’s all from me today.



Bai!

The Big 9!

Now this time I got my son's age right. I know. I know. Go judge this poor mentally and physically tired mother who can fit in her size 24 jeans and rock her heels like a supermodel on a runway in Millan. YOU can?

Kaisan is 9 months old today and everyday he comes up with something new to surprise us with.

Few weeks ago he learned to clap his hands (finally!) At first it was OH GEE OH MY SHOOO CYOOOT then when he started to clap in his sleep, I was like; okay we need a switch off button for this clapping program and install a sleep button instead. He knows how to wave (with both hands -he wave like as if he's trying to get rid of something icky in his hands), going to walk very soon by the look of it (he's trying to stand on his own without assistance now), climbing, know how to say Mama, Papa, Nene (milk), Mamam (eat) and occasionally we caught him say YAY whenever he's happy.

When people see him, they tend to immediately point out that my son is a hyperactive baby. Even as a first time mother who is also not used to babies' development and such sometimes think that yeah, maaaaaaaaaaaybe he's a tad bit hyper.

He crawls EVERYWHERE; grab EVERYTHING, moving, standing, gnawing, bumping his heads and the longest he can keep still is in half a second. He tests his boundaries by going to places he's not supposed to go, grab anything we hold (TV remote, handphones, books etc) and get frustrated easily when his mobility is restrain by his development skills. It's like his brain is faster than his motor skills because all he wanted to do is to TAKE MY CAR KEYS AND DRIVE HIMSELF TO TOWN when he can't even walk yet.

Epic fail, son.

Since I'm a worrywart (what's new?), I seek some advice from experts (not from know-it-all-mothers-who-KNOWS-MORE-ABOUT-BABIES-BECAUSE-THEY-GIVE-BIRTH-TO-A-MILLION-ALREADY-SO-THAT-MAKES-THEM-AN-EXPERT-THAN-MY-DOCTORS) about his "hyper-activeness" and I found out that Kaisan's perfectly normal and healthy. Phew! What. A. Relief.

Doctors said he's just very inquisitive, curious and has a strong desire to explore.

I just need to control what he eats because some food tends to transform him into Sonic the Hedgehog injected with E. Since I don't add sugar or salt in his porridge, I have to monitor the fruits he eats instead. Most fruits are sweet and just a tad bit of it (like really, really small intake) can make Kaisan ricocheting all over the walls.

Other than that, he's a happy, strong and healthy baby!

Happy 9 months old, son! I love you ever so much!

My son, the friendliest baby in town.

Kaisan is one baby that I know who is never stingy with his smile. To him, smiling is like breathing. It is part of him and it comes naturally and effortlessly.

When he was few days old and gave us his wide smiles, we were like "Awww... so cute! But very common" because you know, we thought it's natural for babies to smile. We thought it was just a reflex or muscle twitch or just plain gas. We are parents with low expectations, see.

But the smiles never stop. It's his charm. It's warm, inviting, and friendly and not at all like Joker smile kinda creepy.

Say HI to him and he would flash his ten thousand megawatt smile at you. Tell him to look at a camera and he would smile without you having to yell "KAISAN! SMILE! SMILE, KAISAN! SMILE!" Call out his name and he would smile at you as if saying, "Wazzaaaaap, ladiezzzzz?"

I have friends who blushed and stammered shyly when Kaisan smile at them. I was like, "What is wrong with you? He's just a baby!" I have weird friends.

But no one can resist Kaisan's smiles. Be it people we meet at a park, in a restaurant, in the LRTs or the entire line of people waiting to pay for their groceries at a supermarket -they are all putty to my son's charms.

There was one time we were in a lift and a mean, hardened looking Chinese guy came in, shouting on his phone, threatening to murder someone with his bare hands. He then glanced over at Kaisan who immediately smile at him as if the guy didn't just glare at us with his throbbing vein on his forehead. The guy then lowered down his voice and smiled back at my son. It's not every day I get to see a rough; mean-ass guy went all gooey-like and started to baby-talk. It was my most uncomfortable lift experience ever.

However, the smile comes with a price. People tend to think that when he smiles, it's an invitation to take him and hug him and kiss him. I'm okay when friends and family do that to my son but not strangers. Call me extreme but I know I am the world most lunatic protective mothers out there.

When I see people coughing or sneezing, I would carry my son and sprint to the nearest exit while my hands frantically rummage my bag looking for hand sanitizer, wet tissues and insect repellent. I know it doesn't make sense but it makes perfect sense to me to protect my son the best way I know how.

The world is a dirty, dirty place. HFM is widely spread. Chicken pox is laying eggs everywhere. Mad cow disease in everyone's touch. And the news about child abductions- Gah! All these just make my spider senses go berserk.

So when you see us in town, flash a smile at my son but don't be alarmed by the scowl on my face. I'm meant to scare you away so you can admire my sweet son from afar. At least it's better than me putting a spacesuit on him with a homing device for protection. Right?

Right.

Pray, Eat and Bum in front of the TV.

My family normally don’t celebrate Eid al-Adha or commonly known here as “Hari Raya Haji”. When we do celebrate, we do it low key. We just cook simple traditional Raya food like curry chicken and 'rendang' and eat in front of the TV. No visiting friends and relative.

Pray, eat and bum in front of the TV. That's how we roll.

This year, since all my mom’s children are scattering all over the world and I'm the only one in Miri, we decided not to do anything. At all. So I stayed home and cooked something different for my husband instead of the usual menu.

I made roasted whole chicken stuffed with dirty rice.

Many asked why is it called dirty rice. I honestly do not know. I found the recipe online and decided to try it and it was delicious! The dish was originally from New Orleans. I stuffed the rice in a roasted chicken just to try something new and man, the taste was mind blowing!

Dirty Rice

Ingredients
1. 1 lb. chicken livers, washed, rinsed & trimmed
2. 2 cloves garlic, minced
3. 1 c. chopped onion
4. 1/2 c. chopped celery
5. 4 c. uncooked rice
6. 1/4 c. chopped fresh parsley leaves
7. Salt & pepper to taste

Instructions
1. Cook the minute rice according to package directions. Add in chicken stock for taste.
2. Pulse liver until almost liquefied.
3. In a large pan, sauté the garlic until fragrant. Cook the meats until browned.
4. Add the vegetables and salt & pepper, and cook until tender. If the mixture is too wet, let it reduce.
5. Gently fold in the rice. Season with salt and pepper. Garnish with parsley.

The roasted chicken’s recipe was from the great man himself, Jamie Oliver and here’s the recipe (I made few changes of my own):

Ingredients:
• 1 whole chicken
• 2 medium onions
• 2 carrots
• 2 sticks of celery
• 1 bulb of garlic
• olive oil
• salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1 lemon

Instruction:

• Preheat your oven to 240°C/475°F/gas 9
• There’s no need to peel the vegetables – just give them a wash and roughly chop them
• Break the garlic bulb into cloves, leaving them unpeeled
• Pile all the veg and garlic into the middle of a large roasting tray and drizzle with olive oil
• Drizzle the chicken with olive oil and season well with salt and pepper, rubbing it all over the bird
• Carefully prick the lemon all over, using the tip of a sharp knife
• Put the lemon inside the chicken’s cavity (I squeezed the lemon all over the chicken and put the lemon among the veg)
• Place the chicken on top of the vegetables in the roasting tray and put it into the preheated oven
• Cook the chicken for 1 hour and 20 minutes
• Baste the chicken halfway through cooking and if the veg look dry, add a splash of water to the tray to stop them burning
• When cooked, take the tray out of the oven and transfer the chicken to a board to rest for 15 minutes or so.

There you go. Try it if you like and tell me about it, ey?

Ciao!

He's turning 9 months very, very soon!

8 out of 10: I don’t really know what I think about

Thoughts in my head


1. While walking from the car park to the office:

“They see me walking… they hatin’… because I swag like a nigga on patrolin’…”
Chamillionaire gonna sue me for butchering his song so badly.


2. While climbing the office’s staircase:

“This exercise is so worth it. When I reach level 3, for sure I lost 3kg!” Never happen.


3. While talking to my friends:

“I’m not weird. THEY ARE!” I am weird.


4. While jotting down notes in a meeting:

“I'm a little teapot. Short and stouts. Here is my handle. Here is my spout” And at the same time I doodle a teapot with fangs and hairy arms on my notebook.


5. While drinking my morning tea:

“I’m catwoman! See me pounce! Mrrooowwww!” I have no idea why…


6. While shopping online:

“THAT. IS. A. BEAUTIFUL. VASE. I. WANT. THAT. VASE” The vase was not on sale. It was part of the decoration for an online clothes boutique.


7. While watching Masterchef U.S:

“I can cook better than Chef Ramsey. Pfft. In fact, I AM CHEF RAMSEY!” No I’m not.


8. While driving:

“Everyone is too busy concentrating on the road to notice me singing out loud and using the steering wheel as a microphone” No they are not. They are staring at you, moron.

Alina's Kidney Surgery Part II

Read Part I

The operation that was supposed to be 3 hours turned 5 hours. Everybody took the opportunity to take a nap while waiting. As for me, I went back to the hotel to get Kaisan to rest. Poor guy was up the whole time with us.

At around 7pm, one of the nurses called my sister to come down to the operating room. Alina woke up already and the operation was A-OK!

My sister went inside and spends some alone time with her daughter. I don’t think seeing your 4 months old first born strapped down with 4-5 tubes, groggy, and whimpering after a surgery is easy for any parents. Even as an aunt, seeing my niece like so made me hug my son extra hard at night…

Then the nurses wheeled Alina to a special pediatric room where there were nurses on standby 24/7 for her. Alina slept the whole night and the next day, she woke up with gusto! But not before she stared down her mother menacingly as if accusing my sister for putting her through hell. Ahh… that’s my girl! She got her spirit from me, you see (shameless aunt)

She had one tube on her throat, one tube on her kidney, one tube in her vajayjay, IV tube on her feet and another IV tube on her hand. As her doctor said, Alina looked just like a Christmas tree. She was on epidural still and slowly they lower her dosage to enables her to nurse.

Alina's scar 10 days after surgery

Because the doctor wanted to monitor her intake, my sister cannot breastfeed her. Instead she was asked to pump her milk and feed Alina through bottle. And because my sister was too stressed, she was unable to produce much! I had to come in and help. So for the next few days, my sister and me took turn to be less than a woman and more like a cow. Moo… Pump, pump, pump.

Up to point that I pump too much that blood came out instead of milk. Man. It freaked me out like as if a zombie was gnawing my breast instead of an electric pump.

7 days later Alina got discharged. It was a giant relieve for all of us.

The doctor unblocked and reconstructed her kidney accordingly and did not remove it because he said her kidney worked 10%-20% but will see in a month time the progress. So next month she will go for another test to see how’s her kidney after the reconstruction. Please pray for some miracle that her kidney suddenly turn perfectly fine, can? Please?

 

 

When I think back about what had happened… It was like all were meant to be. My sister and her husband transferred to KL early this month. They were supposed to transfer next year but through God's will, they were asked to go early. It was a coincidence move because as soon my sister in KL, she went to see the specialist and that was when they found out about the kidney swelling to the size of an elephant’s skull. Then because I was on one-week medical leave due to my operation, I was able to go and give support and became a cow. It was like everything has been prearranged and all went well after that.

By the way, because this is a birth defect, insurance in Malaysia does not cover the expenses of the operations. But because my sister’s husband is a foreigner and his Insurance is not from Malaysia, the RM30k was covered.

I now understand why people would ask for donation when there’s major surgery done on their kids. Next time when there's a donation drive for baby's surgery, I promise myself I will donate more to help out.

Alina's Kidney Surgery Part I

Refer to this post first.

4 days after my wrist surgery, I received a call from my sister saying Alina is scheduled to have her surgery early. Like, in two days time early.

I was shocked because initially the doctor said to wait until Alina reach 6 months old or 8kg whichever comes first. But Alina was only 4 months old and 6kg! Turns out her kidney SUDDENLY swell to a size bigger than an adult’s kidney and because it was so big, her surgery will be treated as an adult surgery. The doctor said there’s a high chance of complication and risk.

The last sentence felt like icy water being thrown at me. Without much thought I booked a flight to KL and flew with the husband and Kaisan the very next day. On the very same day, Alina was brought to Gleneagle to be admitted.

I don’t know why Alina’s kidney suddenly engorge to an abnormal size nor do I know exactly what the doctor was saying when he explained everything about Alina’s kidney condition to us on Alina’s first night in Gleneagle’s pediatric ward. But I do know, during the surgery the doctor is going to examine Alina’s kidney and if he finds that it is still working like 20% or more, he’s not going to take it out but will do some sort of reconstruction on the kidney’s tube.

That evening, Alina received her IV jab on her feet. The doctor said she have to fast for at least 5 hours before her surgery. That. Is. Epic. Fudge. How the hell can you keep a baby from nursing her mom for 5 freaking hours???? And Alina nurse like every half and hour!

Are you telling me I cannot milk mommy for 5 hours? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

But it was necessary so the next day, I went to Gleneagle’s pharmacy and bought two pacifiers, hoping it’ll help to appease Alina’s hunger a bit. Didn’t help much because Alina does not use pacifier since birth so the rubber tit felt weird to her. She sucked a bit then spat it out. I tried to give Kaisan the pacifier too and he too made weird faces and threw the pacifier away.

The surgery was scheduled at 2pm so while waiting, we tried many things to make Alina comfortable during her fast. We walked her around the ward to sooth her cries while dragging along her IV fluid. We were noisy with our silly act to cheer her up. And we were everywhere, going in and out of the ward to buy or to take something for her. Anything to make her happy.

The nurses there were extremely helpful, friendly and accommodating. I wouldn’t say having the whole clan down at the waiting room easy, what’s with our demands and constant pacing and questioning, but they were polite, full of smiles and patiently answer our questions to ease our worries. Whether they were genuine of not, we don’t care. We were extremely appreciative at their professionalism and warm-hearted gestures.

At 2pm, Alina was asked to change into the surgical gown and wheeled to the operating theater. Quietly I recited some Quran’s verses and prayed everything will work fine for her.

To be continued...



P/s I was just informed by my sister that the reason why Alina's kidney suddenly enlarge was because it was filled with way too much urine.

Le Sigh...

I want:

Want:

Want:

Want:

Want:

Want:

I WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANT!

I FINALLY went for the dreaded Tendonitis surgery!

I had it two weeks ago actually. I was supposed to go earlier than that but due to many commitments and events that tied up my schedule; I postponed it until I couldn't take the pain anymore.

The procedure was quick and I went in with no fear. I was just... anxious to get it over and done. Scalp knives and needles don't bother me anymore. My only concern was whether it will be too much for the husband to take care of me, Kaisan and at the same time, man the entire chore of the household while I recuperate. Turns out, he managed it well. He even managed to cook some delicious meal for us. And there I was, doubting his cooking skill... Oh well. It's good to know we still can surprise each other after all these years.

Back to my operation... As soon as I reached the hospital, the doctor sent me to a room to change into a peek-a-boo hospital gown. Man... I hate that gown. It's NOT flattering at all. The color looks like frog's puke and worst of all -MY NAKED BUTTOCK IS FULLY EXPOSE!

I grumbled the entire time. It doesn't make sense for me to wear the gown when it was my wrist that was going to be operated. I mean I can just wear a sleeveless shirt, what! But nooooo! They just love to hear me yelp when my naked butt touched the cold seat at the hospital.

I choose the local anesthetic (fully awake but no pain sensation) for the surgery because I was told it will take less than 15 minutes. At first I wanted to be knocked off entirely (general anesthetic). Not because I was scared of the blood or seeing my wrist being cut open but because I NEEDED THE SLEEP. I was exhausted from work, home, Kaisan, family and assignment. So at first I told the doctor, "GIVE ME THE GENERAL ANESTHETIC AND WAKE ME UP NEXT MONTH!" but then I remembered how lately my brain just doesn't functioned that well where I tend to forget things and that scares me. I was told by a friend that too much anesthetic can do that to a person's memory.

So far, I had 3 surgeries done on me. The first one was a cyst surgery and I had general anesthetic. Then I had c-sec, toenail removal and lastly this tendonitis surgery with local anesthetic. Man... No wonder I'm suffering from an early Alzheimer! But don't take my words. I was just repeating rumors and it is not meant to be scientific expert opinion.

The 15 minutes surgery turned 1 hour plus. The doctor talked to me the entire time on what he was doing while I closed my eyes trying to rest. I may not have the same opportunity to rest again so I just listened to the doctor with one ear while my mind wanders.

The doctor gave me 3 injections on the wrist to numb it and once I stop screaming "OW OW OW THAT'S PAINFUL!" to "Hmmm? What? You're stabbing me with a knife? I can't feel anything. Can you stab harder?" he then made a small incision on my wrist and removed the damaged tissue to allow the tendon to move without giving me pain. Once done, he stitched it all up and tada!

The numbness lasted until the next day which was great. But once the drug wore off, oh man... THE WRIST! THE WRIST! THE WRIST IS ON FIRE!!!!!!!

I was asked not to use my right hand so most of the time at home; I just sit with Kaisan and sleep. I can't carry my son but when push comes to shove, I just use my arm to lift him instead of using my hand. It was painful but bearable. I can't use the computer and my handphone. Being fully right handed is a bitch.

4 days after operation, I went back to the hospital. The doctor checked my wound and ugh... Blood stain all over the bandage. I was straining it when I was forced to use my hand. I cringed badly when I saw how gruesome it looked.

Because it was not healed properly and still swelling, the doctor did not remove the stitches and asked me to rest for another week. This time I followed his instruction... Like 30% of the time. I had to wear a special type of casing to prevent me from using my thumb and also, I cannot get my wound wet.

Today, the stitches all taken out and it still feels slightly painful. I was told it will take at least 6 weeks to 6 months for it to fully heal. Wow. That long? I can pop out another baby with that time alone.

So that's my update on my wrist surgery! Next, I will write about my niece's surgery.

Stay tune!

I'm tempted to say BITE ME but that's so 25 year old.

I have been radiating negative energies lately. God knows why. Even when I swear I'm perfectly happy in the inside, I still jolted some poor bastards with my electrifying negative current. So I was told. Many times. Like a millionth times a day.

"Why are so bloody snappy lately? My head hurts from all your snide remarks, woman"

"What did I do wrong? I just misplaced the baby for a second and you're already attacking me like a wild hog!" (I'm only KIDDING with this one. Never happen, MOM!)

"For God sake, Balqiz! Chill the F off! Just delete the App and download a new one. You do not need to throw the phone away just because your Facebook App crash"

"How the hell would I know? If you could just TELL ME that the fried noodle belongs to you, I wouldn't have eaten it. Jeez, woman. I'll buy a new pack for you now!"

"Mom, I am just A BABY. I cannot control the direction of my sudden barf!" (Actually I was PERFECTLY OKAY with this but everyone said I look like I was about to swallow my son whole when he accidentally spat formula on my only clean shirt)


Maybe it's my face. I have super serious face and I was told I have evil menacing glare that can scare a crow into doing a pirouette. If so, I'm sorry I was born with Maleficent the bitch's face.

Even when I'm smiling, I was told I look like I'm about to suck out people's soul and sell it to the devil.

Maybe it's the words I used. I tend to be very crisp with words when I'm tired, busy, too frazzle with so many things happening all at once, too many things on my mind, and when I'm just plain lazy.

Or maybe it's the way I talk. Most people tend to misinterpret what other people are saying just by the tonation used. Look, I do not have an interesting nor melodramatic tone like those of sopranos. I have a very monotonous and droning voice. Even when I'm excited, I sounded like I'm bored to death. When I scream "OH WOW OH GOD OH GEES!" it's like me commenting on the weather, "Oh it's raining. Great" and when I sing, I sound like a walrus being attack by a shark.

Maybe it's my body language. I was told I radiates and oozes confidence just by the way I sit and walk. It intimidates and at the same time scares people. When in fact, when I walk, 99% of the time I'm singing "What (what) In My Butt" song

And even when I'm dancing happily, I was told I look like I'm doing a creepy ritual dance for the dead.

Well, maybe without me knowing I AM indeed a big ball of negative energy walking and talking and it shows even when I THUNK I'm perfectly peachy.

Maybe because of all the grumblings I have going on in my head. Maybe because I tend to keep my displeasure over small matters to myself rather than voicing it out because it's so insignificant and pointless.

Maybe because of what has been going on lately what's with my wrist operation, my niece's operations, and work and assignments and all the people that irks my sensibilities.

Maybe because of all the angry tweets I tweeted lately in Twitter.

Or maybe I'm rubbing it from the people I was around these past few days. Maybe THEY were the one with all the negative vibes and I got the brunt of it because I absorb people's energy easily, be it positive or negative.

Maybe I used to many MAYBES here. Maybe I should just shut up and do my assignment. The due date is looming over my head and when it falls, it will be like a mountain heavy.

Maybe.

Short update

I just came back from a week long visitation to KL to give support to my sister's daughter's kidney operation (will blog further on that) and also finally took out my wrist stitches (I had an operation 2 weeks ago. Will blog about it also soon) and I just started work today and I've thousand of emails to catch up and I just remember my assignment is due next week Thursday and I haven't starter SHIT and my next subject's assignment will be out this Sunday (FCUK MY LIFE) and my house is a bloody mess (we left in a hurry -will write in details about it soon) and I have 3 new books plus a magazine that I MUST READ BECAUSE IT'S THE KEY TO MY SANITY and by the time you finish reading this, my brain just combusted and splattered bits and pieces of brain meat all over my monitor.

You are welcome.

Mommy Bragger

My world from the minute I find out I was pregnant, giving birth and until now, has been all about my son, THE BABY.

Every time I open my mouth, you can bet I'll be talking about my son.

Every time I blog, yes, yes it WILL be about my son. Or my boobs. Those two are interrelated.

I can't help it. My life just revolves around him and when I'm not with him, I think and talk about him.

Call me crazy but I think this obsessing over one's baby is very common among mothers. Am I right to assume that, Internet?

I know for a fact that it will tone down sooner or later. Especially with the second child. Poor second child. It seems unfair not to get the same limelight as the first one. Dear future second child, if I don't babble incoherently about you here is because I ran out of juice. Blame your brother.

So when I hear mothers talk about their kids, I understand. I will listen attentively and ask questions that they wanted me to ask and praise their kids accordingly. Because I UNDERSTAND.

There is a need to talk about one's child and I always see it as their way of sharing information about their child's development and accomplishment. Maybe they do brags sometimes but I always choose to humor them and listen. Because I UNDERSTAND.

So what this post is all about today is just to tell you that if you're the type who does not understand about parents need to brag shamelessly about their child, shame on you. One day when you have one of your own and no one is there to hear you squeal like a monkey when your child take his/her first step, poor you.

What? I'm just being defensive today. It's in the air. Blame the air. 

Boobs. Depression. Tea. 3 words that shouldn't be in the same sentence together.

I didn’t lactate immediately after giving birth. My milk took 3 days to finally reach my nipples [OMG THERE SHE GOES AGAIN BEING SO VULGAR IMMA TURN MY NOSE UP ON HER BLOG NOW]

I was going insane with anxiety when my milk didn’t come out even when my son was sucking so hard. I kept on trying and trying to feed him and he latched and sucked (Oh he has no problem with latching. He’s a pro in that matter. But what’s the point of knowing how to latch when I don’t lactate?)

We kept trying till my nipples were so sore and painful like as if I just grind it repeatedly on a gravel road. I even had to check my nipples for blood each and every time Kaisan latch. But still, no milk and yes, no blood too on my nipples THANK GOD. So after failing a gazillion million times, I cried “FORMULA COMING RIGHT UP!”

I told my doctor my lack-of-liquid-boobies problem and he gave me a medicine to help speed things up. I took the pill twice and the next day, BAM! PAMELA ANDERSON STARING RIGHT BACK AT CHA! Yeah, Pamela Anderson with big wet stain on her blouse. I was leaking profusely soon after that. Never in my entire life I have seen my breast that GINORMOUS. It was beautiful all right. BUT! But it was DAAAAAAMN PAINFUL! I was practically crying when my boobs were stone hard and throbbing madly. I take back all my wishes to have bigger boobs if only God take away the pain.

I had to use the breast pump to help ease up the pain and lo behold! It was like a Niagara fall when I pump it! I couldn’t wait for Kaisan to wake up and when he did, excitedly I try to feed him. He was like a baby bird –mouth wide open, swinging his head side-by-side rapidly looking for my nipples and… crying. It was not because there was no milk. I just don’t know how to hold him properly! He was latching but I held his body in a way that made him so uncomfortable that he cried and screamed and grunted and growled. Yes, my son growled. I wish I had recorded the sound of him growling coz I swear it was so funny.

The longer I try to feed him, the more frustrated both of us were. He couldn’t latch properly when his body was held incorrectly. I couldn’t hold him properly when he kept thrashing all about. Each feeding became a battle for both of us. But I didn’t give up. Each and every feeding, before I give him his bottle, I try to breast feed him first. When both of us got exhausted wrestling with my boobs and fail miserably, I give him his formula.

Then, a week after his birth, my milk started to slow down its flow. I started to get frantic again and was asking every living woman with obviously-you-have-experience-in-breast-feeding-if-not-why-you’re-boobies-are-sagging on how to increase breast milk. Some said eat young papaya soup. Some said eat lots of porridge. I tried it all but still, nada. By the way, young papaya soup? HOLY MONKEY BUTTHOLES! IT’S BITTER LIKE A MOTHER BUTTCRACK!

To make matters worst, I was hit by postpartum depression. I was supposed to be happy with my newborn but instead I was constantly feeling sad, irritable, and angry and sometimes I cried for no reason whatsoever. I was tired due to no sleep. I had no appetite to eat whatsoever. And I kept thinking of running away from everyone including my son but love and guilt glued my feet to the ground.

After a week or so feeling like toenail fungus, I don’t know what made the depression go away, but I was much happier and able to function like a normal human being again. That was when my milk double triple its amount and flowing rapidly and nicely. This time, I know how to hold my son properly during breast-feeding that FINALLY, both of us sigh a relief and enjoy our bonding moments together.

At the same time, I was drinking Earth Mama Organic Milkmaid Tea, an herbal tea for breastfeeding mothers. I bought 10 boxes from a helpful loyal reader –Zhuriqa Jalil at Bee Little, who recommended me this tea to increase milk production (trust me, this lady helps me A LOT in giving advices about pregnancy and babies. I owe her BIG TIME).

Honestly, I don’t know whether my happy mindset or the tea that helps to keep my breast milk to flow steadily until now. It could be both or it could be one of the other. Whichever it is, I am so grateful that I can breastfeed my son again. Oh I still give him his formula to top up coz my milk alone is not filling for him but I’m not the type who would beat myself up for bottle-feeding him. I’m not that monsters of a mother who gung-ho die-die must feed baby with liquid from boobies’ type. I’m flexible. I know both ways still benefits my son in every kind of ways. Like how I was okay getting a c-sec instead of going natural.

It is all still God’s willing (takdir). Everything is God's willing.

Confinement and Me; An Epic Battle

Before I give birth, people have been telling me what a bitch confinement is. The bitter and plain food, the many rules and restrictions and of course- the boredom. They wished me luck and looking forward to see me come out of my confinement alive and kicking like a horny goat.

But I said, “Na’ah. I’ll be fine. I like confinement food. In fact, I cook it for my everyday meal. And staying indoor for 44 days? Pfft! Piece of cake. I can entertain myself easily at home”

I swear if I have a time machine, I will go back to that exact moment I utter those ever-so-cocky statement and SLAP. MYSELF. HARD. REPEATEDLY. UNTIL. I. SAY. CONFINEMENT. SUCK. MONKEY. NUTS.

Imagine doing and eating the same thing E-VE-RY-BLOODY-DAY FOR 44 DAYS. It can drive any INSANE person to go CRAZIER!

A week in my confinement I was already planning on ways to jailbreak my iConfinement.


Food

In every food I eat, there is always GINGER. GINGER. GINGER. GINGER in it. Porridge with ginger. Chicken with ginger. Beef soup with ginger. Herb drink with ginger. I swear my fart smells like burn ginger. I don’t have to elaborate here the “goodness” (so I was told…) of ginger coz you can Google it but seriously, I’mma burn ginger farm with my flame thrower (Once I get my hand on one that is…)

I know not being able to drink cold water would be the death of me and I was HALF right. I survived. As a matter of fact, drinking hot/warm water is the EPITOME OF SHIZNITS. Buuuuuuuuut… watching the Mister gulping cold soda in front of me does bring out the psychotic killer in me.

There are a lot of things I can’t eat now I’m in confinement. One of my favorite foods that are ban from my everyday meal is – BELACAN! (Shrimp paste) The other day, my mom cooked kangkung masak belacan for the Mister and I almost slice my wrist when she flicked my forehead as I scoop a spoonful of the dish into my plate [INSERT SALIVATING FRENZY BULL DOG IMAGE][INSERT ANOTHER IMAGE OF MY TONGUE HANGING 4 METERS ON THE GROUND REACHING THE TIP OF MY TOE][INSERT ME SLOBBERING IN TEARS AND SOBS]


Traditional Medicines

The first two weeks of confinement, I hired an expert confinement lady to take care of me. She massaged my whole body, cooked GINGER INFESTED FOOD, bath and sauna me in herb water, made me my herb drink twice a day, assisted me in my traditional wrap (bengkung) and helped me with household chores also bathing lil’ Kaisan.

Having her around made it easy for me to rest. Without her, I wouldn’t know shit about all the traditional herb drink/bath/food that I must take during my confinement. I thought by wearing the bengkung and watch what I eat was enough but apparently this traditional confinement is trickier than rocket science.

I have no idea what this thing is called but it is used to cook my herb drink

I can’t say I have much love towards all the herb drink she asked me to drink but I drank it anyway without questioning it. I know. The drink is so black and thick with God knows what herb that even if she add crush cockroaches in my drink, I wouldn’t even know and declare it healthy for my womb [GAG!] But I cheated a bit when drinking the ever so bitter herb drink. I added honey in it and tada! Taste much, much better [Troll face]

Look! Sparkles in my drink!

Confinement Rules and Regulation

1. Cover thy hair/head all the time

No can do, José. Headband or head wrap gives me major migraine. I can only wear it less than an hour so I had to forgo this rule.

2. Wear socks all the time

Again, no can do. My water retention didn’t go away as fast as I thought it would. My feet stayed swollen for 2 weeks after giving birth and when I wear socks, my feet swell into a camel’s hump size. And what’s worst, I had world craziest ingrown toenail and was so painful with pus and all (Oh did I ruin your dinner?), I rather face another caesarian than the excruciatingly painful nail digging into my flesh every time I move. So scratch this rule too.

3. No cutting nails and hair

I had to get the Mister cut my ingrown nail while howling in pain.

4. Do not shower thy hair

Pfft. Are you insane? I have super sensitive scalp with oil glands the size of a penny. I sweat A LOT and my hair gets greasy faster than you can say, “HOLYFUCKINGBATSHIT IS THAT PROFESSOR SNAPE ON YOUR HEAD?” Of course I washed my hair. And of course I get scolded many times by the confinement lady and not forgetting my mom. Of course I ignored them and washed my hair again the next time they massaged my head with coconut oil and made me as greasy as Lenny Kravitz.

And many other exciting rules and regulations that I didn’t follow much coz I’m awesomely useless like that. I know it’s for my own good but honestly, is there a scientific proves that says doing all of the above ensure perfect health after 44 days? Besides, it’s not like as if I’ll turn into Jessica Alba after 44 days of following all the strict rules right? Right? Right? [Echoes]

I'm not questioning the tradition. Maybe there is medicated truth in all the things they asked me to do but I'm just the type of person who can't abide strict and stifling rules. Balqiz, the confinement rule breaker. I will be famous for that.

That's all for now. Kaisan's crying for milk. Ciao!

The Never Ending Story (Baby Making Part 38)

Glucose screening came out aaaaaaaaaaand… NEGATIVE! BOOYAAAAAAAAAH! YIIIIIPPEEEE KI YAAAAAAAAAAAY! [60 seconds firework show]

Okay. Burst my bubble time. So you already know about that from my Twitter and Facebook. Boo hoo so I updated every second of my life (Actually I don’t. I update my status like once or twice a day) (Please don’t spit on my blog) (Or my Twitter) (Or Facebook)

Well, negative means that I don’t have to:

1) Be induce ASAP coz I heard it sucks but then again IF I’m overdue, I still have to be induce which is double the FUUUUUUUUN (Sarcasm)

2) Go for C-sec (This one I can’t guarantee coz… I’ll tell you that later)

3) Chances for diabetes in later years is very slim [FIST IN THE AIR] [TRIUMPH FACE]

4) I can EAT, EAT, EAT WHATEVER I WANT (moderately of course) [Eyes darting nervously elsewhere][Hide chocolate ice-cream]

Buuuuuuuuut… baby is STILL huge (3.5kg plus minus and will keep on growing until I give birth) and both doctors (I asked 2 doctors for different opinions) have no idea how, why and whuuuuuuuuuuut made my baby boy grow so fast within 2 weeks.

So I asked both doctors whether my body can push out a melon that size and;

Lady doctor said, “C-sec. Just to be in a safe side”

Guy doctor said, “Let’s try natural first and we’ll see how it goes from there”

Me, “I can haz purple balloons?”

I know I am being in denial by NOT WANTING TO THINK about labor right now. I am just taking one day at a time and see where I’ll go from there.

I mean, living each day is already a pain in the ass. Literally speaking.

Everywhere is aching and sometimes, in an extreme pain. My ass, my lady thingie, my feet, my hands, oh… suffice it to say that–EVERY SINGLE BODY PARTS ARE EITHER THROBBING OR ACHING OR JUST PLAIN PAIIIIIINFUL.

So to think about labor is like adding cheese to my already excruciating cake of joy.

I told both doctors we’d see when the time comes. Vajayjay or C-Sec. Whichever is necessary that time, I’m game.

Since I won’t be giving birth anytime soon (plus minus 2 weeks so the doctors said), I asked whether I could go to work. Honestly, yes, it’s great to be at home but God, the waiting game is slowly driving me nuts. People said I should take this time to rest and take a lot of sleep. I can’t sleep. I CAN’T FRIGGIN’ SLEEP. In 24 hours, maximum sleeping time for me is 3-4 hours. With 4-5 times of waking up to go to the toilet in between. Pregnancy insomnia is real, trust me.

But doctors said HELL NO. This is because my blood pressure has shoot up high this week and if I’m being put in a stressful situation (at work? Really? Stress? Me? NOOOOOOH! THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE!) might aggravate me more and a lot of medical crap talk that I couldn’t be bothered to write down here in case I, myself will doze off in boredom.

So, no going to work. Officially staying put off work. Bah. Humbug. What do I do to kill time?

I listed few things I will do such as;

1. Read all my books.

2. Learn how to bake cakes/biscuits (?) (The question mark is because my fingers are still throbbing so point numero two is a pending thing to do)

3. Take a long walk everyday to induce labor naturally (With my swollen feet, GOOD LUCK ME)

4. Rest. Rest. Rest.

See? I can only come up with 4 things to do. What. A . Doofus.

There must be more for me to do but WHAAAAAAAAAAT? Sigh. So before I started to come up with other things to do, I might as well start reading all my unread books and we’ll see what I can do once I finish reading all the books.

Well, looks like Baby Making series will continue on until God knows when (Trust me. It's not something I want either).

Ciao!

(UPDATED) Banyak Gilak Dosa Ya Kali Banyak Gilak Masalah (Baby Making 37)

“The rise and fall of a messy affair” That was my first thought when I heard about some celebrities broken marriage news. Nothing good ever comes out of an open relationship especially when you’re married. Nope. Nope. Nope.

After I finished grumbling to myself about commitment and marriage and lust, I called up my sister and asked her to drive me to my doctor for my routine check up. 

Ever since last night, I had been plagued by the thought of, “Hey… MAAAAAAAAYBE… Just MAAAAAAAAYBE… I have what they called gestational diabetes…?” As usual, I Googled my curiosity and symptoms such as edema (swelling) hand and feet, extreme thirst, big pregnancy belly… could it be? COULD IT BE?

The first thing my doctor said when I came in her office, “YOU’RE HUGE!” Like, duh… Didn’t she get the memo that I’m giving birth to a baby whale?

She took my blood pressure –normal. Then she asked me to step on the weighing scale and HOLY APPLE iMAC 27-inch: 2.7GHz! I couldn’t believe my ears when she said -71KG. SEVENTY ONE KILOGRAM! AAAAAEEEEIIIIIII! THAT’S THE SAME WEIGHT AS A WHITE BACK GORILLA!!! FOUR MALE ADULT WHITE BACK GORILLAS TO BE EXACT!!!!

My doctor was crunching her forehead when she jotted down the figure and said, “2 weeks ago you were 67kg and today… hmmm…”

HMMMM? WHAT DOES THAT HMMMM MEANS?! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!!

As she poured gel on my belly for scanning, I asked her to check whether my baby’s head still engaged and the update of my previous placenta calcification. She ignored me totally and concentrated on measuring my baby and said, “Your baby is 3.5kg already. Plus minus 500g”

Wait. What?

At 37 weeks and he’s already THAT HEAVY? HOW THE HELL AM I GOING TO PUSH HIM OUT LIKE THAT? THROUGH MY BUTTHOLE?

I was already breathing hard and starting to wish the Mister were with me instead of my sister who was already dancing excitedly when the doctor said I have all the signs of gestational diabetes and if it’s true, I might have to go for early labor –via C-Sec as soon as possible.

Truthfully, I have nothing against C-sec. I am open to all options. My aim is just one –as long as the baby is out and healthy, I’m game with anything including pushing him out of my butthole. But then again, the sucky part about c-sec is the long recovery period and the limited movement I’m allowed.

But since there’s no trace of sugar in my urine, the doctor asked me to come again tomorrow to do a glucose screen. IF I do have GB and it’s pretty high, I will be either induce or C-sec. However, to be induced and go natural post a high risk for the baby. Since my baby is pretty big for 37 weeks, the chances of his shoulders being too broad/big may hinder the chances of him being delivered naturally as it might harm him to pass through the birth canal. So the other option is –C-sec.

[INHALE]

The doctor also notice I have too much amniotic fluid in my uterus. GREAT. What’s next?

So this apparently is another sign of diabetes caused by blood sugar levels aren’t well controlled.

But she did say that MAYBE because of my amniotic fluid too much that made my baby seems … large. If that’s the case, that means he might be 3kg and below (plus minus) and able to be born naturally.

Oh dear God. Is there any GOOD news for me aside from MAYBE or scientific guesses? 

I’m getting pretty tired of being sick, swollen, in pain, bla bla bla for 9 months that by now, I am ready to tell my doctor, can you just cut me open now and be done with it? Like, seriously. I know I shouldn’t sound so whiny and ungrateful that many other women out there are facing worst but really… I’m just tired. I am ready more than ever to hold my son and start a new journey as a mom and forget about the whole 9 months of suffering.

Le sigh…

I hope by tomorrow I shall know the result of my blood sugar so the Mister and I can make a decision on what’s what next.

Pray for me, will you? It would mean so much. Thank you.


[UPDATED NEWS]

Glucose screening done yesterday. Went to the hospital at 7am, took some blood, was asked to finish a bottle of sugared water and two hours after that blood taken again and the best part- result will only be out NEXT WEEK MONDAY! Gah! Lamak nya nak tunggu result!