Dear Peanut

Dear Peanut,

Let me explain to you my beef with exclusively breastfeeding hardcores.

When you left NICU, we’ve seen the big changes almost immediately. The physiological jaundice is gone. You don’t look like turmeric chicken anymore. Your skin now has a healthy tocino glow. You also seemed less irritated. You appeared well-fed and well-rested. A happy, healthy, baby boy!

We were advised na paarawan ka at 6am for the next few days and as much as we can. We also got your feeding schedule from NICU and was taught how to dropper feed you. So that’s what we did when we got home.

Since you couldn’t get my milk out yet, we just continued your formula feeding schedule. My breasts became so engorged that we had to call Ate Zsa Zsa to the rescue. She’s one of the midwives who attended to us at TMC. Apart from lactation massages, she also teaches TMC patients how to bathe a newborn.

She came to our home and worked on my super engorged jugs while expressing milk. Miracle of all miracles! She was able to express 40ml of breastmilk in that one session alone. Actually, it was science, not a miracle, but it felt like the latter because it was the first time I’ve seen my jugs let out colostrum by the ml.

For one whole hour, she milked me like the postpartum cow that I was while your father attended to your needs (changing your diapers, soothing your cries, and dropper-feeding the milk that we just expressed).

After Ate Zsa Zsa left, I was able to hand express 30ml more!

Ate Zsa Zsa kept on saying that I have very high pain tolerance because normally, most women would be crying right then and there because of the painful sensation. Hand expressing was painful but even if I gave birth to you through painless CS, I experienced labor pain, and I tapped out and asked for an epidural at 6cm (or was it 5cm?)

In the past weeks, we also tried nearly all of the tricks and tips on how to increase milk supply. Nalulunod na ako sa sabaw at napupurga na ako sa malunggay. I also ordered those expensive (but worth it) lactation treats and take malunggay capsule twice a day. I do hand expressions, direct latching (but still getting the same results), and boob massages.

Lactation cookies and treats from Mommy Treats!

Finally, when your UncleP saw how you latch on, he said there are babies na hindi marunong mag-latch ng tama sa umpisa. But he advised to just continue and those short latching and sucking still help. Until finally, we bought that Pigeon Nipple Shield and it totally changed the game!

Pigeon Nipple Shield - expensive but worth it!

I told you that I won’t do product reviews but when I do find a product that I really, really like, I’ll tell you about it. A nipple shield is like an artificial nipple you place on your natural nipple to create that “protruded” shape babies can latch onto properly.

It’s like a condom for your nipple and it works like magic! On the first try, you were able to direct latch and breastfeed on my left breast for 15 whole minutes! Again, exclusively breastfeeding hardcores would probably say, “Artificial nipple pa din yan. You should do direct latching only because…blah blah blah blah…” or “Naku, dapat hindi mo ginawa yan, mako-confuse yung baby mo sa nipples…mali yan...blah blah blah…”

Again, back off.

It probably makes you wonder bakit ako galit na galit sa mga hardcores, here’s why:

The pressure to exclusively breastfeed (as in direct latch, no bottle feeding breastmilk) has become so EXTRA that many people now think feeding your baby formula milk is synonymous with giving poison.

I mean, I’ve joined several mommy groups and breastfeeding groups on Facebook. I’ve read the comments and questions and I couldn’t help but do an eye roll every time I see a comment from those who keep pushing direct latching and exclusive breastfeeding as if they’ve seen the concerned person’s issues firsthand.

Take this for instance: One of the “counselors” I talked to from an exclusive breastfeeding group kept on telling me that direct latching your baby is the only sure way to increase your milk supply. She's right but what if you're having problems with direct latching in the first place at hindi ka naman nagkukulang?

Sure, she shared a lot of tips and comforting words but when I told her the story about how we supplemented with milk formula when we were at NICU, she made me feel like I did a great injustice to my baby that she even asked for the name of the hospital and the pediatrician who advised it. I was like, "Wow, do you have the power to fire the doctor or shut down the hospital? Kung makatanong ka, wagas eh."

I’m like, why? Crime na ba ngayon ang magbigay ng formula milk? Come on, formula milk is a suitable option if breast milk is not available.

Here’s another example. A lactation consultant sent me an SMS asking if I am exclusively breastfeeding. She also asked how many feedings I give, for how long the baby breastfeeds, how many wet diapers, etc.

I wasn’t exclusively breastfeeding and I double guessed if I should even reply. But I did, and I explained all about the need to supplement with formula at the hospital. I gave a very detailed response. And you know what? The response I got was, “Okay ma’am. Thank you, God bless.”

Nagdilim yung panginin ko, I swear!

I was actually expecting to be told to still try direct latching and breastfeeding. That would have been a warm response. The best response would be an encouraging reminder that it’s okay to supplement with formula if breast milk isn’t available at the moment and while I’m still building up my supply.

The best response would have been a reminder that I’m doing the best I can as a first-time mother and that I shouldn’t feel guilty at all. The best response would have been an invitation to call them in case I need to talk to a lactation therapist (even if I need to pay a professional fee) and that their doors are open for me and my baby anytime.

But no…

That response felt like a door slam to my face. Somehow, whenever I see messages ending with the proverbial “God bless”, it reads like “Okay, end of conversation, you don’t need to reply anymore. Bye."

It was very disappointing. I felt like when they find out that mothers don’t exclusively breastfeed, they kick them aside by not offering comforting words that we’re doing the best we can, as they surely would to those who exclusive breastfeed.

And that practice, that pressure has made breastfeeding in general even more difficult and not fun at all for those who are trying their best despite the real issues they don’t post in those breastfeeding posters and videos.

In my first book, Before I Do, I wrote about how annoying it has become that even your neighbor’s relative can just nonchalantly ask why you’re still single or when you’re getting married (if you are in a relationship). And when you’re married, your neighbor’s relative can also nonchalantly ask why you still don’t have kids.

I mean, these used to be private questions that only people you know can ask you. Today, kahit yung nagtitinda ng taho sa kabilang kanto puwede ka tanungin kung bakit ka pa rin single. And it’s not because they always mean well.

Take exclusive breastfeeding for instance. What if the person you asked has a baby with serious latch-on issues (like a physical defect or something?)What if the person you asked previously had a breast removal surgery because of cancer? What if the person you asked has a disease that prevents her from breastfeeding? What if you continuously ask women why they don’t breastfeed and you insist that they do without even knowing if they have serious problems that no counseling can solve?

And it sucks that the focus on exclusive breastfeeding have made women feel that they’re committing a crime whenever they buy formula milk at the stores. You’d see the stares, you’d somehow feel the whispers, and you’d feel the judgment. And maybe that’s why many mothers, especially first-time moms, don’t post on social media that they’re supplementing their breast milk with formula milk if they need to “top up.”

Mothers shouldn't be made to feel they're committing a crime or an injustice if they give their babies formula milk.

For me, at least, it's similar to choosing between using disposable diapers and cloth diapers. Cloth diapers are expensive and they require more effort to use. Disposable diapers are convenient and cheap but in the long run, the expenses add up. They say babies who use cloth diapers are less likely to have diaper rash. Both are perfectly viable options.

Why don't you get some cloth diapers as an investment (if you have the budget and time for them and if you want to) but still use disposable diapers when you want/need to?

Yeah, I know that there is absolutely no substitute for breastmilk. But don't judge women who formula feed all too easily or make them feel like they're committing a feeding crime.

I read this article at a time when I needed it most. One of the captions read, “My dear fellow queens, breastfeeding is good for our babies but it is not the be-all and end-all of motherhood. Please, please know that our mental health is as important as our babies' physical well-being.”

The night before I snapped and cried again because you wouldn’t latch onto me and I felt that my milk supply would dry out before we could even begin to enjoy the joys of feeding. That night, we decided to finally use the feeding bottles NinangE sent us from the U.S. and stop dropper-feeding you. Right then and there, you father ordered the breast pump and nipple shield we needed.

Milk drunk. We just want you to know that we're giving you the "best" of both breasts, este world.

These past few days, we have both started to enjoy the perks of feeding. I pump breast milk for you and we feed it to you using a bottle. We also supplement with formula milk while I’m still working on building my supply. The goal is not to give you just breast milk. The goal is to continue giving you breast milk for as long as I can while topping up with formula milk until we no longer need the latter.

I have become a strong advocate for mixed feeding, a style, I think, that many mothers are either ashamed to admit or don’t know at all. I think the pressure to breastfeed has led many mothers, especially first-time ones, to believe that if they can’t produce the milk their baby needs on Day 1, they can’t do anything about it anymore and that they should start feeding formula milk, and when they do, they are total failures.

This is just utterly wrong. Don’t we all want the best for our babies? I think there’s an urgent need for stronger support for women who formula feed but still want to give breastmilk for as long as they can.

If there are mixed breastfeeding groups, let's talk, sagot ko na ang printing ng brochures ninyo.

XOXO,

Update (as of March 29, 2018): Changed my codename from Queen Bitch (QB) to Tiger Mom (TM).

Dear Peanut,

I heard about the Unang Yakap program from my “mommy friends.” Your UncleP also told me about it and as a writer, I’ve researched about it to great extent.

We’re glad to know that the hospital we chose is a strong advocate of the Unang Yakap program and breastfeeding. It’s good to know that we would give birth in a “baby-friendly” hospital.

What’s great about The Medical City is that they offer these free prenatal and parenting seminars for both their patients and outsiders. One of the seminars we attended included a hospital tour of the pre-labor room, labor room, delivery room, ward, and private rooms (and even the NICU). So we were able to—somehow—simulate what we would do when labor pain finally starts. A dry run of some sort. Looking back, that tour really helped!

And just as they promised in the seminars, you were immediately brought to my chest and taught how to direct latch in the delivery room while the doctors stitched me up. But you didn’t want to latch on even after several tries. You kept on crying and I thought that maybe the traumatic birth experience (you ate some of your poop while still inside my tummy, thus the stat CS) stressed you out. Maybe you just needed some time to relax.

When you were finally roomed-in with me, we immediately started to try direct latching so we can exclusively breastfeed. Nurses, doctors, and lactation consultants, even the midwives, continuously try to teach me how to properly position you so you can latch on properly. Sometimes, it worked. Most of the time, it didn’t. You would latch on for a while, suck—maybe 4 to 5 sucks per latch—, unlatch, and then cry. And we would start over again.

I wasn’t worried because we already know that it’s okay not to feed you for quite some time immediately following birth—because you still have some “baon” nutrients that you received from me before they cut your umbilical cord.

The prenatal seminars also educated us about the size of your tummy on Day 1 (the size of a calamansi fruit) so we weren’t worried that I couldn’t provide colostrum by the ounce. Of course, your grandparents were worried that you were getting hungry as hell.

We kept trying the direct latching and exclusive breastfeeding combo but the same thing happens. I try hand expression and I can see yellowish milk coming out. You just couldn’t latch on properly because my nipples are too small (not inverted, not flat, but they’re small).

If my areolas are the size of China (as your father wrote), I could probably describe my nipples as the Taal Volcano in Tagaytay because they’re not protruded enough that you can latch on effectively.

Taal Volcano in Tagaytay

I distinctly remember our third night at the hospital. We were trying to breastfeed you every 2-3 hours but you seemed so irritated already. Perhaps because since you couldn’t latch on properly, you also couldn’t get the colostrum out.

That was also the night that we were trying to calm you down so you would get the maximum exposure under the phototherapy equipment. I remember holding your tiny, yellowish face with one hand (football hold) and you said “ahh!” In my head, I keep on replaying that moment. I don’t know why but I swear I can still hear you utter “ahh!” sometimes as if someone nudged you awake. I remember how tiny you were on Day 3, like Turmeric Chicken, thigh part.

The Medela Pump Drama

When we finally agreed to take you to NICU for phototherapy, they told me I can breastfeed every 2-3 hours. But I wasn’t confident that I could provide you 20 ml of breast milk per feeding. I kept telling everyone that my nipples weren’t protruded enough that you couldn’t latch on properly but all they said was that I keep trying the direct latch approach.

Since they ran out of donor breastmilk that week (because umulan nga ng premature babies, as one of the midwives said) and we knew that getting breastmilk from friends or FB groups could take a while, we agreed to give you formula milk as a supplement. They had us sign a consent form as part of a hospital protocol.

Your father and I grew up on formula milk—the best money can buy at that time. And we turned out okay (walang kokontra, hahahaha) and we’re healthy. So we really have no qualms about giving you formula milk. After all, science bitches! Pun intended, you’ll know what I mean if you watch Breaking Bad.


We told ourselves, so what? We can still try to breastfeed you when we get home. But breastfeeding hardcore groups would rally and say, “Oh no, you ruined your chances of exclusively breastfeeding!” They would say “Oh no, nipple confusion na yan for sure kasi nagbote ka na!”

BACK OFF!

If formula milk is the best option for my child at a specific time, no poster, no video, no counseling would stop me from giving my baby what he needs.

NICU has breast pumps available so I figured, I might as try the machine so I can test one before we buy. Since we psyched ourselves that we're doing direct latching, we didn’t buy any pump prior to giving birth.

When I first visited NICU, I tried to do direct latching but you caused a ruckus at the breastfeeding room that I felt the 3 women there, who were silently breastfeeding, were judging me or feeling sorry for me because of your dynamite wails. It came to a point that I cried because you keep refusing my gigantic breasts.

Anak, ang laki ng dede ng nanay mo. Like three times the size of your tiny, tiny head. Each jug is filled with colostrum and you couldn’t get it out. Sino ba naman ang hindi maiiyak? Liquid gold kaya yun!

When I told the nurse that I’ll just try to pump milk instead, she wheeled you back to the phototherapy room and I swear, you gave me the evilest side eye I’ve ever seen as you exited the room. It felt to me like you were saying, “How could you leave me alone at this fancy tanning salon, mother???”

So there I was, inside the breastfeeding room at NICU, strapped to a Medela automatic breast pump. The three women were all holding their babies, skin to skin, and I was holding a yellow Medela breast pump bottle crying silently.

I felt so guilty and so sorry and so disappointed in myself because I couldn’t provide breast milk for you. After 1 hour of automated pumping, I could only get a few drops of colostrum out. The NICU nurse said it was okay and they would feed it to you. Liquid gold, as they say.

One of the OB-GYN speakers at the prenatal seminars attended warned us about this possible scenario. He said we should refrain from asking ourselves, “Anong klase akong ina?!” when we encounter such situations.

But that was exactly what I kept asking myself as I held the Medela breast pump bottle close to my jugs and cried silently while the three women nursed their premature babies, just like in those breast is best posters you see around the malls, hospitals, and almost everywhere!

Before I left the NICU breastfeeding room, I found out that they were all having issues, except for one. One told me her premature daughter won’t latch on and she had been there for 2 hours already! Another, mother of twins, told me she asked for donor’s milk because she couldn’t provide for both and that one of the NICU nurses feed her baby with a dropper. The one (without the issue) said comforting words that it will get better.

I realized that, wow, at the surface, I thought they were all having a wonderful time breastfeeding—complete with rainbows, butterflies, and unicorns. But in reality, they also have latching problems, breast milk supply issues, and more. So you see, everyone has an issue with breastfeeding.

Which leads me to another advocacy I would support with all my being.

To be continued…

XOXO,

Update (as of March 29, 2018): Changed my codename from Queen Bitch (QB) to Tiger Mom (TM).

Dear Peanut,

If you ask your father for a list of things (and people) that I dislike / hate / abhor, he would probably email you an Excel sheet—all nicely labeled, color-coded, and with very detailed information.

And that Excel sheet would probably have many versions (v1, v2, v3, etc.) because the list keeps on getting updated.

Before we gave birth to you, your Lola Mommy advised me to let go of some of the things (and people) that weigh me down. Apart from the fact that keeping a mental hate list is not really conducive to pregnancy, I should start with a “clean slate” and clear my plate of all negative things (and people).

And that’s what I did. And you know what, even if I didn’t destroy that list in my head, becoming a mother—especially a first-time mom—does a lot of good. I get so busy that I don’t have time to get irritated by small things (and small people) anymore.

But there’s one thing that recently got my ire and it’s this—how the strong focus on exclusive breastfeeding has become a new venue to bully mothers who don’t. Let me tell you how my incessant irritability started and a little backstory.

Hang in there, this one’s a bit long and bloody dramatic.

Pre-Peanut Days

Both your grandmothers did not breastfeed but we all know the many benefits of mother’s milk for babies. Who wouldn’t? I mean, you’d see the list EVERYWHERE.

There are so many groups nowadays that offer support for exclusively breastfeeding mothers and they’re all doing great jobs. I salute them, seriously.

What a time to be alive because back then (like in the 1980s or earlier), if you breastfeed your baby, it means you don’t have money to buy formula milk. Back then, people have this [wrong] notion that parents who breastfeed are poor that’s why they do it (because, well, breasts are just there and they’re free).

That all changed when later studies proved (and continuously) prove the physical, emotional, mental, and financial benefits of exclusive breastfeeding.

And we honestly believe in exclusive breastfeeding and direct latching. That’s why we didn’t buy a breast pump or bottles because we wanted (and we still want to) take advantage of my work-from-anywhere setup. Since I can work anywhere as long as I have my laptop and Wi-Fi connection, when you cry, I can simply pop a boob and you can feed anytime.

We attended as many prenatal seminars that we can. Hoarded as many freebies as we can (free diapers are the shiznit!). And basically psyched ourselves that we’ll exclusively breastfeed you for as long as we can and save big money in the long run.

But just like how our birth plan went the opposite direction, our feeding plan didn’t go as planned.

To be continued…

XOXO,

Update (as of March 29, 2018): Changed my codename from Queen Bitch (QB) to Tiger Mom (TM).

Dear Peanut,

Today, you are officially #3WeeksOld. Earlier today, we stayed at your Lola Mommy and Lolo Daddy’s home because of the 12-hour full electrical shutdown at the condo. Today, [part of] your umbilical cord finally fell off. YASS! Puwede ka na namin i-bidet kapag naliligo.

We also went to SM Marikina because of the 1-day Thanksgiving Sale and the SMAC member’s sale at Ace Hardware. Your grandparents shopped like crazy (mostly for raffle prizes this coming holiday) and we also bought some items for the condo. It was your first time at an SM Mall. Yes, for a Filipino kid, that’s a first worth mentioning, haha.

Anyway, the past 3 weeks flew by in a blur of diaper changes, breastfeeding emotional breakdowns (that’s for another entry), your bath time wails, and per-3-hour feeding schedules.

In a span of 21 days, your father and I have turned from bat-shit scared, walang-mga-alam, first-time parents to chill, kaya-natin-ito, 21-days-in parents. We’ve seen and gone through a lot of changes in the past 21 days, both physical and emotional and we have a lot of stories to tell you, anak. But for this post, I want to share with you how our supposedly 3-day stay at the hospital became a 5-day staycation.

The Simpson Kid

On Day 3, we noticed that your skin has become yellowish. The nurses who check on us noticed it too and already gave a heads up to the head nurse so she can inform your pediatrician #2.

Backstory: Your original (pediatrician #1) Dra.CTP was out of the country when you were born on Nov. 2. So Dra.CTP asked her reliever Dra.CL (pediatrician #2) to step in on her behalf.

Dra.CL checked your condition and explained to us all about physiological (normal) jaundice. I won’t explain the entire thing on this post, so for those following #DearPeanut blog, you can read about physiological (normal) jaundice here.

Anyway, the point here was that it’s normal for newborns to experience this. In an ideal scenario, kailangan lang paarawan yung mga sanggol. But given the November Rain (pun intended and a tribute to Guns N' Roses’ iconic song, it was a rainy first week of November), Dra.CL was reluctant to give the discharge order.

We had two options. First, we can send you to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) so you can get the treatment for physiological jaundice, which was phototherapy. The better option was to have the phototherapy machine placed inside our private room so we don’t have to be away from you and we can breastfeed. If we took option 1, we can do the breastfeeding every 2 hours at NICU. We took option 2.

So through the night, we tried to breastfeed (but we were already having issues, more on this later) and place you under the phototherapy machine. You had to be naked (except for the diaper, booties, and mittens) so you can maximize the light exposure. You also had to wear this piece of carbon paper inside your diaper to protect Buckbeak Jr. Why we named your penis after a Harry Potter character is an inside joke I can’t share here, hehe.

They also provided us this shabby, makeshift, carbon paper eye cover to protect your eyes. We both hated this eye cover with our entire being. You kept on crying and tugging at it and it frustrated us both.

Makeshift tanning salon inside our private room.

And since you won’t stay or sleep in your hospital trolley/carrier unless we swaddle you, we had to wait until you’re asleep to put on the stupid eye cover (I hated it because it made you uncomfortable, but I knew you needed it -- all I’m saying is that perhaps the hospital could provide a better one) and turn on the phototherapy machine.



You were so fidgety and would only calm down if you’re sleeping on top of a pillow that was placed on top of my thighs. Your father and I took rounds that night because we can’t sleep at the same time. You would wake for feedings and we had to make sure you were getting as much light exposure as possible so your bilirubin levels would go down.

It didn’t help.

The following morning, we were advised to send you to NICU so you can get phototherapy treatment and close observation. Your skin was more yellowish than before. They had a grade/level system for that and you were already at level 3.

While we didn’t want you away from us, we also knew that staying at NICU would mean you’d get the treatment you need in a more efficient manner, faster treatment too, so we could all go home.

The doctors explained to us that I can visit NICU anytime to breastfeed you but during that time, we already had some issues. Unfortunately, the hospital didn’t have enough stock breastmilk (BM) that time because “umulan ng premature babies” (one of the midwives said) during the last week of October.

They told us we could ask for BM donations from friends and Breastfeeding Groups but we didn’t know any. So we agreed to give you formula milk (FM) while you stayed at NICU. We are well aware of the benefits and advantages of breastfeeding but if you're already hungry and getting irritable, we don't have any qualms about giving you what you need at a specific time. I’ll explain the drama I that took place in the breastfeeding room in another entry.

Of course, we didn’t want to stay longer at the hospital. In fact, when the resident OB-GYN Dra.IG checked in with us and informed Dra.JMF that we were still at the hospital, Dra.JMF was surprised because she already gave the discharge order to us on Day 3.

Mothers can visit NICU anytime so I made sure to check in on you before sleeping. The resident pediatrician there Dra.SEE told me that at first, you were quite irritable—crying all the time and hard to calm down. But after a few feedings of FM, you calmed down, therefore, the nurses there were able to feed you better.

I felt really, really guilty because I thought that our breastfeeding issues almost led to you becoming dehydrated. The doctors and nurses at NICU reassured me over and over that you didn’t become dehydrated but you were quite hungry when you first came in.

It was only your father and me who stayed in our private room on the 4th night. We were so exhausted due to lack of sleep for 4 days in a row. So that night, we grabbed the rare chance to sleep for a full 8 hours despite the regular checkups from the nurses and resident doctors during their rounds.

I still felt guilty and told your father all about my worries (waterworks included) and he told me that sending you to NICU was the best option because you’re getting round-the-clock observation so your bilirubin would go down fast and we can all go home.

He also told me what all the doctors already said—that physiological jaundice is normal and that phototherapy is a fancy way of saying you’re getting a tan at a fancy tanning salon inside the hospital. That’s one of the best things about your father—he knows how to make me laugh. But I told him to refrain from making jokes for now because whenever I sneeze, cough, or laugh, I would feel a sharp pain in my C-section wound.

On Day 4, Dra.CTP visited us and she reassured me that physiological (normal) jaundice in newborns is well, normal, and very common. She also checked you and told us that your complexion already looked good and we might not need another test to check your bilirubin levels. We slept soundly that night and were thankful for a full 8 hours of sleep before we face the happy chaos (because everyone is so excited for us to get home) again.

The next morning, Day 5, we received a call from NICU that Dra.CL already gave a discharge order and we can all go home. YEY! True enough, kulay tocino ka na. Hindi ka na kulay turmeric chicken!

Kulay turmeric chicken.

Kulay tocino! Ready to go home! Bad lighting, nasa waiting area kami ng basement parking.

After settling the bill and packing up our things, your father and I went to the hospital chapel to pray and thank God for all the wonderful things that have happened in the past 5 days at the hospital. And of course, for the wonderful new addition to our family.

Before we left the hospital, we also made an official announcement about you. :) Here's what we wrote:

Heeeeeere's Johnny!

Thank you so much to everyone who helped us navigate the past few days. It was a rollercoaster ride of milestones!

Longer post on http://dearpeanut2017.blogspot.com/ soon! 😎😒😍

Finally, we can take you home, anak.

XOXO,


Update (as of March 29, 2018): Changed my codename from Queen Bitch (QB) to Tiger Mom (TM).

Dear Peanut,

For someone who had never been admitted to a hospital before (thank God!), being told that you’re about to undergo an operation should have been scary.

But all I felt that time was excitement because it meant I would get to see you very, very soon!

The epidural probably helped as well. Dr.VRO explained to me that I would be given an epidural for the C-section and I wouldn’t feel anything. She assured me that it would be painless and it was.

I remember clearly that some sort of FM radio station (or maybe it was a Spotify playlist) was playing in the background when they wheeled me into the delivery room. I recognized Dr.ANC immediately when I arrived. And then there’s Dr.JMF in her orange suit who asked me if I know Dr.ANC and I said yes, I met him at her clinic a few weeks ago and introduced myself.

I felt another welcoming shiver down my spine (the epidural) before the operation started. I remember clearly that Dr.VRO was holding my head the entire time. I was strapped down on the operating bed but I could feel my arms shivering, not from the cold. The shivers were involuntary movements as a result of the anesthesia. They gave me a warming blanket, even though I wasn’t really cold, it sort of helped.

I didn’t watch any C-section YouTube videos prior to giving birth. Okay, so I watched only one birthing video—a normal, vaginal delivery, but nothing about C-section.

I like to research but not researching about C-section was probably the best thing I did. I had no nightmarish visuals to scare me. It happened so fast.

I remember Dr.JMF and Dr.ANC chatting with the medical team throughout the operation. Every now and then, they would talk to me and I would respond as if my stomach wasn’t open.

If I wasn’t the one being operated on, it was almost as if everyone was just having coffee and scones at a coffee shop. The mood was just so light that Dr.ANC even brought up the Advil thing (that’s for another entry) and I even laughed at my #pregnancybrain moment. I don’t think the Advil joke would die down, hahaha.

I also remember that Dr.ANC commented on how strong my muscles were contracting and Dr.JMF said that your father and I were weightlifters. Hurray for fitness, but my muscle tone was one of the reasons why you wouldn’t go down in the first time and why the Evening Primrose Oil didn’t work on me.

Soon, Dr.JMF gave the go signal for your father to enter the delivery room and then we heard you cry for the first time. “May baby na kayo,” I remember Dr.JMF said.


After what felt like half a minute, they brought you to my face and I saw you for the first time. The first thing I noticed was your full head of hair! Anak ka nga ng tatay mo, hehe.



My arms were shaking heavily from the anesthesia. SC thought the table was shaking and not me. After a few more minutes of listening in to the chika in the delivery room, they told me it was over.

They wheeled me into the delivery room where I spent 2-3 hooked up on machines. Every now and then, a lactation nurse would visit and help you try to latch on me (the first one was in the delivery room).

Unang Yakap. :) They're teaching us the proper way to latch.

After 3 hours, they wheeled me to our room where your #LolaMommy, #LolaMama, #LoloDaddy, and SC were waiting. Soon, your AuntieAnne and AuntieDing would arrive with flowers, and UncleP would call from his internship.



It would be a few hours before you would be roomed-in with me. But wow, a mother, a father, and a son were born on November 2, 2017 at exactly 4:55pm.

[QB] My Birthing Story Part 1
[QB] My Birthing Story Part 2

XOXO,

Update (as of March 29, 2018): Changed my codename from Queen Bitch (QB) to Tiger Mom (TM).

Dear Peanut,

In the labor room, they quickly hooked me up on the machines. One machine monitored your heart rate and my contractions.

I remember clearly that I kept looking at it and whenever my contractions would begin, I would count from 1 to 20 to distract me from the pain. One intern from the Ateneo School of Medicine and Public Health (ASMPH) was assigned to me. His name was F. Mendoza.

Even though I was ¾ through labor, I chatted with him. He reminded me of your UncleP. They are both in their last year in med school. I told him that my brother is a 4th-year med student in University of the Philippines College of Medicine. I also wished him well in the upcoming medical board exams in September 2018.

Every now and then, someone would ask me about my pain level. From time to time, I would say 7 and 8 (with 10 being the highest). I mean, for someone who dealt with dysmenorrhea for the past 32 years pre-pregnancy, the labor contractions felt very much like the ones I was used to. I was being honest.

But the contractions started getting stronger and closer together so when I reached 9, I asked for the epidural. I reached 10 before Dr.VRO arrived and gave me the anesthesia. She explained to me that I would still feel the contractions at level 2 (instead of 10) but after 10 minutes or so, I felt great. I mean, sure, I was lying there, hooked up on machines, but I felt that I could sleep through labor.

I asked the nurses if I can talk to your father or your #LolaMommy so I can update them on what’s happening. One of the nurses told me that your father cannot be located at the moment. I even joked that he was probably drinking outside the labor room (an inside joke explained here).

Your #LolaMommy saw me in the labor room instead and I updated her. She told me that your father went back home to get our hospital bag #QuickSilver .Weird but effective habit, we like to name some of the inanimate objects we have at home so it’s easier to give instructions. Like, I can just tell your father to take #QuickSilver instead of #BigBlack (another luggage) or don’t forget to turn off the Tiny’s (our small Christmas tree at home) lights before going to bed.

Anyway, Dr.JMF arrived just before your #LolaMommy was about to leave and she updated us on what’s happening. I think I spent 2.5 hours in the labor room and reached 7cm before they ruptured my amniotic sac and found that it is already heavily stained.

This meant that you already pooped inside and there was a big chance that you already ate some of it (so yeah, your father and I would troll you through life that you ate your own poop!). The NST also showed that your heart rate was getting unstable, which means you were already under stress inside my tummy. This called for a stat C-section.

After Dr.JMF explained to your father and #LolaMama (and later #LolaMommy who’s already waiting in our room), they quickly prepped me for the operation.

And everything happened so fast.

To be continued...

Read [QB] My Birthing Story Part 1

XOXO,

Update (as of March 29, 2018): Changed my codename from Queen Bitch (QB) to Tiger Mom (TM).

Dear Peanut,

Today, you are officially 1 week and 1 day old.

A few hours ago, I was checking some of the files we took to the hospital and I chanced upon the 1-page Birth Certificate cheat sheet we prepared for you. It’s basically a document that contains the necessary information we need for your birth certificate. I saw your name and I told your father, "Wow, imagine, just last week, this whole new person didn’t exist yet. And we made this person!"

So while you’re sleeping behind me in your porta-bed, let me go back in time and tell you about how you came out into the world. This is my birthing story from my point of view. I want to write it now while everything—the excitement, they mayhem, the relief—is still fresh in my mind. SC will write a separate one.

November 2, 2017

I woke up around 5am with strong, persistent contractions. Actually, I’ve been feeling those contractions for several days but usually only in the wee hours of the morning.

They feel like dysmenorrhea from hell, which isn’t new to me. I have very high tolerance for pain, so I usually just let them pass. But since we were already past your due date (October 31, 2017), SC and I started to time these contractions using an app.

Your father was supposed to go to work that morning since your LolaMommy will be staying with me at home. During our last prenatal checkup, Dr.JMF said my cervix was still closed. The results of your Fetal Non-Stress Test (NST) and Biophysical Profile Score (BPS) came out great. So, the only thing we really had to do was wait for labor contractions to start. That was why in the last few days of October 2017, we’ve been to several SM malls and walked around BGC to help induce labor.

But I felt something different that day. I felt like this might be The Day.

The strong contractions were 5 minutes apart, usually lasting 30 to 40 seconds. When your #LolaMommy arrived, I insisted that we go to TMC's pre-labor room (pre-LR) and have me checked. Chalk it up to the training and the mindset that we both developed from this multinational company we used to work for, your father and I already have plans A, B, and C laid out -- what to do, where to go, who to contact, etc... when labor finally starts. We kicked off with Plan A.

I had no idea how labor pain should feel. I mean, the “waves” I was having felt like heavy dysmenorrhea bouts that I asked Dr.JMF if I can take Advil (that’s for another entry, I swear, #pregnancybrain is real). We didn’t want to go to TMC and be told to go home first because we’re not in labor yet. But I figured, only a medical team can tell me if I was already halfway through it. And oh boy, were we surprised!

The internal exam showed that I was already at 5cm and nearly everyone told me (residents, nurses) that I must have a high tolerance for pain because some women, at this point, would be on epidural already. You need to be at 10cm to start “pushing” so that meant we were halfway through labor already. After getting prepped at the pre-LR, they wheeled me to the labor room where they hooked me up on the machines and then the waiting started.

But nearly everything we have prepared in our “birth plan” went the opposite way.

PEANUT WON’T COME OUT OF MY PEANUT!

To be continued…

XOXO,


Update (as of March 29, 2018): Changed my codename from Queen Bitch (QB) to Tiger Mom (TM).