Raising Fontes

Weekend morning, Noemi woke up at 7am and walked in with my iPad in her hands. “Good Morning mamma” she said. Urgh.. why can’t this kid sleep longer? I purposely delayed her bed time last night, she went to bed at 11pm and she still wakes up at 7am?

Noemi: Can I play iPad? Me: No my baby, you need more sleep, go back to bed. Noemi: No! It’s weekend, I want to play iPad! Me: I know you want to play iPad, I’ll let you use it later on. Noemi: No! Now! Me: Later on. Noemi: No! NOW! (Slamming iPad into our bed) Me: You cannot wait, you want it now. I’ll let you use it after breakfast. Noemi: NOW! (Putting on her grumpy face) Me: (Deep breath and let out a sigh) Come here.

I extended my left arm and invited her into our bed. It’s quite nice to curl up in bed with your grumpy child when you are still half asleep.

Me: (Caressing her hair) Today is weekend and you want to use iPad immediately in the morning because you want to play with it for longer, am I right? Noemi: (Nods) Me: I know. It’s also because you feel like you have nothing to do, and you feel bored if you’re not playing iPad, am I right? Noemi: (Nods) Me: I know. (Continue caressing her hair)

As I slowly disintegrated her grumpiness with my caresses, I changed our conversation.

Me: What do you want for breakfast? Noemi: I want pancake. Me: Sounds like a good idea. We can use the sandwich maker that papa’ just bought to make waffles too. Shall we make some? Noemi: Mmhmm. I want one pancake and one waffle. Me: Ok, shall we go and make it now? Noemi: Ok.

Now that I was slowly waking up, I lugged myself out of bed, picked up Sara and walked Noemi towards the kitchen. Will I ever be able to sleep through the morning again? T.T

La voglio insegnare come si suona il pianoforte, ma non è facile per niente, soltanto perché io sono la sua mamma. Tutte le mamme sanno che cosa sto parlando.. i bambini diventano sempre più difficili con le loro mamme, ma sono sempre più bravi con le maestre.. 😣

Teaching Noemi piano is not because I am a pianist and I want my daughter to play. Noemi is such an expressive and creative person I wish I could give her another tool to express herself. However, this whole ‘teach your own kids’ is no walk in the park.. it requires 10x the patience. I want to teach at her own pace, I withhold myself from pressuring her, simply because I don’t want her to ever hate piano playing because of me. 😔If only, this could be a little easier. #teachingyourownkidsisthetoughest

Me: Did you have fun today?

Noemi: Yes, Y is very kind to me now, she's my best friend. P is not my best friend when she takes my balloon without asking.

Me: I see, but is she your best friend other times?

Noemi: Yea.

Me: Sometimes best friends argue.

Noemi: And I said "I don't like you".

Me: Did you mean what you say?

Noemi: No.

Me: You said it because you were angry, isn't it?

Noemi: Mm hmm.

Me: Did you mean it when you said that you didn't like me either?

Noemi: No.

Me: You said it because you were angry, am I right?

Noemi: Yeah.

Me: It's like me, I didn't mean it too, when I said I wanted to throw you out of the house. I was really angry, I'm sorry...

Noemi: It's okay, I'm sorry too.

Me: That's why we practice breathing when we are not angry, so that we will use it when we are angry, and not say mean things to each other. How do you feel after breathing?

Noemi: Better.

Me: Me too. Ti voglio bene tanto tanto, amore mio. (I love you very very much, my love.)

When Noemi was around a year and a half, I made a decision that I wanted to parent peacefully, mindfully and respectfully. I did tons of reading and the idea was growing on me.

When Noemi was 2, she wanted to be big, she wanted her hands on almost every house work, so I let her be a part of everything that I was tending to - she was my little helper. Whenever she refused to cooperate, I was able to handle her limit testing without feeling ruffled, I was also able to let all tantrums roll off my back; I was firm but gentle and loving. Once, Noemi got bitten by mosquitoes, I applied ointment to stop the itching and she said “Thank you mamma to make it stop itching.” She was curious, determined and sweet.

When Noemi was 3, she was ready to expand her world beyond family, she attended nursery, she was independent and understanding. When I rushed to the classroom after receiving a call from the teacher that Noemi had been bitten by her classmate, I put my head through the door to see Noemi eating her lunch, she smiled and waved at me. It was nothing like what I had expected - she did not run towards me crying about how she got bitten. I explained that Adam did not know how to say he was angry, so he bit her. Noemi nodded in empathy.

When Noemi was 4, she climbed the playground structure so tall that bigger kids needed a few pushes from below, but she, the determined Noemi did it all on her own without an inkling of fear - she thought nothing about falling. In the summer, we went for island hopping and Noemi jumped into the open sea with her armbands - she knew not how deep the water was. I was a proud proud mom. I was sure that it was the peaceful and respectful parenting that raised me this independent, determined, and fearless little girl who was also loving and sweet.

Now she is 5, she cries when I ask her a question, she angers when I push the elevator button before she does, she cries when her best friend unintentionally pulled her hair during play, she squeals at the top of her lungs when she has to leave play dates, she does not want to climb that same playground structure for fear of getting hurt. She is sensitive. Her emotions and her desire to control has become so big for me to stay unruffled. I really thought I had it all together, 3 years down the line, I seriously can’t say that I know how to practice peaceful, mindful, respectful parenting.

I feel like a failure.

Of course we have had moments that I thought I had failed prior to this, but I always knew that I could get back up and be true to what I wanted to be again. But lately... lately, I am just kind of stuck at feeling like a failed peaceful mom. *frown*

I have clear understanding that I should remain calm when the storm comes in, I know that if I continue to be ruffled, Noemi would grow up just as ruffled. I have the knowledge on what is going on with me, but I lack the tools to put my knowledge to practice. All the tools that I had been using seem so irrelevant now.

I need peaceful quotes pasted around the house, I need mantras to recite when triggered, I need to be reminded to hug Noemi and breathe together when we are ruffled. I need to better myself in order to better my own daughter.

I have got to.

La serata con le mie ragazze. 👩🏻👧🏼👶🏼

I took the girls for an evening dine out with friends. A new friend spoke of how she drifted apart with a very close friend since becoming a mom because of a very strict routine she’s developed for her child.

Sure, having two little ones aren’t easy, I too have reduced going out since Sara’s arrival. However, as soon as I felt ready, I would dress the girls up, put on my make up, wear my pencil skirt and high heels then roll those girls out the door and into the car.

Sure we have routine for the girls, but we are not bound by it, especially not when the school’s on break.. When Sara was sleepy, I put her to sleep on the stroller, when Noemi said she wanted to go home I made a move to take the girls home.

Girls fell asleep in the car, I put Noemi in the stroller and strapped Sara around me on a carrier. An evening out ended with two sleepy girls and a sane mom. 💁🏻 #takecareofyourself #nothingisimpossible

Noemi: What should I be when I grow up?

Me: You can be whatever you want to be. What do you want to be?

We’re back in Dubai! Weather’s nice and we’ve been adjusting well. It’s not easy, but I’m slowly finding the rhythm and coping alright for having two little ones.

There’s been an art festival going on around here, I took Noemi to the free canvas painting workshop and let her creativity go to work.

As usual, I let her work on her painting without giving any of my input. I found a spot, sat down and gave Sara a bottle. 

I always knew that Noemi’s good at drawing and painting, but it wasn’t until I saw passerby stopping to watch Noemi paint only did I realise how good Noemi actually is.

*Proud mom beaming*

31st December, I marked the last day of 2015 with the last hypnobirthing class. It was 4 years ago when I first heard of hypnobirthing, it wasn’t very long after Noemi’s birth in fact. After seeing videos of what hypnobirthing looked like, I dreamed of having one too.

The class ended at around 11.20 p.m., as we bid good luck and happy new year to our fellow hypnobirthing classmates, the first thing I said to Bee Ting, our practitioner from Hypnobirthing Malaysia was “We finished all classes!”. My estimated due date was on the 28th of December, as I started the course very close to the estimated due, I feared baby would come before I could finish the course. After hearing my concern, Bee Ting arranged the last class close to my EDD believing that we would make it, and we did. :)

Once I reached home, there was little time before the countdown began. My previous NYEs were filled with champagnes, fireworks and lots of people dressed to look good. This New Year’s Eve, I watched fireworks from the apartment, comforting Noemi who was by then over exhausted for staying up late, while feeling empowered as a woman, as a mother who was going to have a smooth, gentle, relaxed and enjoyable birthing experience...

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1 a.m.

I did my (very bad) bedtime routine - scrolling through Facebook feed, updating one, and sending out new year wishes to friends. That’s when I received news that the tower my friend was going to for the New Year Eve’s dinner was on fire.

2 a.m.

My friend texted me back that they were okay, *phew*. And so I turned on my relaxation music and went to sleep.

5 a.m.

Feeling the contractions surges, I woke up. I was hoping that it was the Braxton hicks practice surges, I talked to baby, reminded her to come on the 5th of Jan when papà would be here. Further more, I did not really wish for baby to be born on the 1st of January as her birthdays would be overshadowed by the New Year commotion.

I turned on my relaxation music and drifted back to sleep while doing my surge breathing - 20 in, 20 out... I’m filling up a red balloon in my tummy... 20 in, 20 out...

8 a.m.

Surges had now become few minutes apart, I couldn’t sleep, looks like baby had chosen to be born on this day despite my constant nagging on coming on the 5th. She was probably saying “Look ma, I’ve stuck my neck far enough for you to finish your course. Now let me out.”

I knocked on mom’s bedroom door and told her I had frequent surges. I took a shower, put on my clothes, went back to the relaxation music, sat on the gym ball birth ball by the bed with my head and arms resting on the piled up pillows, swaying my hips, and focused on my surge breathing. 20 in, 20 out... filling up that red balloon...

Noemi woke up, saw the way I was and started to feel uneasy. I spoke to her that I was going to the hospital to have her little sister and that I would not return for a couple of days. She nodded in comprehension.

9 a.m.

The surges became continuous with little spacing in between, I felt the urge to push breath down. Mom brought me a glass of protein drink just so I would have energy for the day. She gathered final items, and we were ready to make a move.

10 a.m.

I limped towards the door with help from my mom, as I was putting on my shoes, something got released. I knew the next surge was going to release something else, so I told mom that we had to go back to my room for the maternity pad. While changing, I found the released mucus plug - well, I’m gonna spare the graphic description here, so you can ask Mr. Google if you need some details, aiight?  

Once I was done, I slowly limped back towards the door, and when the next surge came, I felt a gush of liquid going down... Thank goodness for the turn around that saved the mess.. Yup, my water broke the membranes had been released.

When we left the apartment, I saw from the corner of my eyes, a crying Noemi with her fingers in her mouth “Mamma... mamma....” My sister comforted her as we left.

The surges had become so strong right now that taking 2 steps at a time was a challenge. The car was 10 steps away, but I could not finish those steps without two persons holding each of my arm.

Through out the car ride, the urge of pushing breathing down was becoming stronger, I focused on my birth breathing, calling “baby.. baby..”  

11 a.m.

After a 20-30 minutes bumpy car ride (damn those speed bumps), we got to the hospital, I was wheeled in for a triage upon arrival. My mom took care of the registration, I continued to focus on my breathing.

A team of medical staff started swarming around asking me questions and telling me what to do...

Before I continue, let me briefly explain what I wanted for my birth: a very natural birth, with minimal medical assistance, if not zero. I only needed the doctor and his team to observe and to be on stand by should there be an emergency special circumstances. Else, I wished to be left alone birthing my baby in the way that I wanted.

The reality is, the medical staff (in the hospital I chose) were not trained to stand and do nothing but observe; nor were they trained to just be on a stand by mode. They were trained for carrying out standard procedures with little acknowledgement from birthing mothers. Knowing that I wasn’t going to have a birth companion, I was prepared to fend off all unnecessary medical assistance.

When I had Noemi back in Italy, I did what most people did, submitted myself to the hospital staff. Whatever they told me to do, I did. No matter how uncomfortable I felt, I bit my teeth and dealt with it because they told me so. When they asked me questions while I was dying in pain, I spit out words through shivering teeth just so they could have my answers to their list of 20 questions. Needles injected into different parts of my body and I did not ask why. I was basically a piece of meat on a butcher’s chopping board.

Not this time.

Moving myself from the wheel chair to bed, I asked for the back rest to be cranked up so I could be comfortable. I was then asked if I could be checked, I agreed. The dilation thinning was full and baby’s head was ready to come down the birth canal.

When I was told to change, I opened my eyes (throughout my active labor, my eyes remained closed to focus on breathing) and saw the pink hospital gown, “But this covers the front, how can I have skin to skin bonding with my baby when she’s born?” I asked. They explained that the gown would be lifted up, satisfied with the explanation, I got myself changed with a few helping hands.

Right about now, the urge of breathing down was becoming greater, all I heard was this nurse asking me “Do you feel pain?” I ignored her the first time. “Do you feel pain?” She repeated herself a few more times. “Please tell me when you feel pain.” Finally, the nurse had repeated herself enough of times for me to burst out saying “Please don’t use the word PAIN, because it is NOT PAINFUL!”

One of the first words that we eliminated during our very first hypnobirthing class was ‘pain’. Our perception of birth no longer revolves around words like ‘pain’ and ‘fear’, I certainly did not want them back in the picture when I was reaching for my goal! Although, I must add that she was probably feeling unsure for I did not look nor act like I was in pain.

Thankfully, there was not another word ‘pain’ for the remaining time that I was there.

When they saw that I was indeed in labour, I was wheeled into the labour room. “Who would you like to come with you?” asked the nurse, as I had previously discussed with my doctor, the labour room is only husband friendly and nobody else would be allowed in. But since the nurse asked, I answered “My mom.”

The next phrase that I heard coming to me was “We haven’t reach the labour room, please don’t push until the doctor is present”. That was one of those requests I had to ignore, I chose to listen to my body instead of her; with or without the doctor, I was going to breath down as long as I felt the urge.

The labor room was pretty much the same as I had seen when I requested the doctor to take me on a tour, except that it was larger. Moving to the labouring bed, once again I asked for the back rest to be cranked up, but it couldn’t be adjusted into the position that I wanted. I questioned why couldn’t this while the previous bed could, they explained that it’s a different bed, so I requested extra pillows for back support.

Nurses strapped my belly to the monitors, that didn’t bother me much, so I allowed it. But when someone held a needle close to the back of my hand, I came out of my breathing state and said “No, I don’t need the IV.” One nurse held a mask in my direction and asked if I wanted gas, I said “No, no, no.” Another nurse asked “When did you last eat?” I first ignored, I knew the purpose of that question - to prep me for an emergency, which I knew I was not an emergency, I was a mom ready to birth her baby like nature had intended. “When did you last eat?” she asked again, reluctantly I answered “Last night.” “What time was it?” she continued to ask. I mean, what’s this? An interview? I was too busy concentrating on my breathing to answer the question; to breathe or to derail myself so I could remember the time I last ate? Well, breathing seemed much more important to me at that moment. “Ma’am, please answer... please cooperate.” pleaded the nurse. I went deeper into my breathing and my baby. *Inhale*.. Every surge brings my baby closer to me...

Deep in my breathing, my attention was brought to the hustling sound in the background, I opened my eyes and saw a team of 7-8 medical staff rushing in and around the labour room. Unhappy with the number of people in the room, I felt my privacy had been compromised. In a very impatient tone I said “Why are so many of you here???” Right at that moment, I swear I saw a few confused faces looking back at me.

After a long wait, my mom arrived. She had some obstacles getting in, but she finally did. My husband couldn’t be there, and I was thankful my mom could. <3

A nurse (or was it a midwife I wasn't sure) approached and did a vaginal exam without speaking to me. Feeling invaded, I asked “Why do you check again?” “Yes, please don’t do it so frequently.” added my mom. Caught off guard, she casually dismissed us by saying "Oh, because the baby's heart beat is going down." Had it been true, she wouldn't be so casual about it. 

When the doctor arrived, I greeted the doctor, he put on his surgical gloves, described that my amniotic fluid was clear, and that baby's head was ready to come out.

He had requested for me to readjust my position by sitting on my tailbone, my feet were repositioned closer to me, I then naturally pulled my thighs closer to my chest, head forward in between my knees. I did a few birth breathings, and the doctor went "Please look at me." I opened my eyes and he continued "I need you to use your breaths to push, instead of exhaling them out.” He must have felt that I wasted my breaths with birth breathing, I complied. I took a deep breath, and pushed with all my might. I could not feel how far the baby had come, there wasn’t even an inkling of how far I had progressed. “It’s impossible” I thought. I thought that the baby wasn’t going to come out.

4 years ago, when I was birthing Noemi, I remember the same feeling. The doctor said I was doing a great job, I did not believe her, I couldn’t feel any progress during the push... “This is impossible!! It’s impossible for baby to come out!! I need to be surgically operated! C-section! I need a C-section!! Oh but oh no! There’s no more time to prep for a C-section right now!!! I HAVE TO GET HER OUT!!!!!” It was then I did one forceful push, and Noemi was born through a very painful tear by a very painful mother screaming “F************CCCKKKK!!!” My husband and mother in law could hear me in the waiting hall.

(Noemi in 2011)

“Baby’s head is out” said my mom gently. She later on described that her little palms were placed on each side of her neck when she come through. Right about now, I started to feel the tension around the birth canal, I felt like baby was being pulled through it. I’m not sure if I said it out loud, but in my mind I went “Don’t pull. Don’t pull!” Later on mom confirmed that there wasn’t any pulling.

4 to 5 pushes later, Sara was born. I could no longer feel my cheeks for doing those pushes, but I felt a rush of emotion through my body, and I welcomed her with “Baby... baby..” as she was placed on my upper abdomen for skin to skin bonding.

This made up for the chance I missed with Noemi when she was immediately taken away after birth. For a good 10-20 minutes I was wondering “What? Where’s my baby? Shouldn’t the baby be given to me first? Where are they taking her? When are they bringing her back?” By the time she was returned to me, she was all clean and bundled up. I missed all that juicy part with my fresh born Noemi.

Since the amniotic fluid was clear, doctor had accepted my request to spare Sara the nose and ear suction.  

“Doctor please don’t forget the delayed cord clamping.” I reminded. “Okay.” said the doctor.

Time was a few minutes to midday.

12 p.m.

“3 minutes is up.” Said the doctor and cord clamping had been completed.

We were left for skin to skin bonding for about 20 minutes, although I wished there wasn’t any time limit to it... A nurse then came and picked Sara up, showed her to me and asked for her gender, “A girl” I said, Sara was taken away to be dressed.

“Remember during our discussion, this pitocin jab must be done.” reminded the doctor as I nodded in agreement. A nurse carried out the injection, and boy that hurt! No pun intended.

Doctor gently massaged my abdomen in circular movements and delivered the placenta. We had it packed so we could take home for placenta encapsulation.

Finally, the doctor looked at me and said “Well, you don’t have a tear, just some abrasions, I think you can do without any stitches.” No stitches! Yaaay!! Oh how I suffered the stitching without anaesthesia when I had Noemi! So glad that I did not need it this time.

Noemi was born 2.67kg (5.89lbs) and I had 4 stitches; this time around, with a bigger Sara at 3.18kg (7.01lbs), I had none. The birth breathing (including the ones I continued doing when I ignored the nurse for telling me not to push until the doctor was present) must have done a huge part in slowly easing the birthing muscles and gently moving the baby down. I’d also like to think that my very last minute perineal massage after 38 weeks helped the muscles relax during birth.

“You did great!” said my mom, “You were alert and how you spoke with such clear mind throughout the labour! While I on the other hand, was a gone case in all 5 birthing experience, I could not speak nor could I move nor could I think straight...” she continued.

I was discharged from the hospital after spending a night.

(Sara in 2016)

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“Was it painful? Did you feel pain at all? Is it true that you had a pain-free natural birth without the use of any drugs???” A very dear friend of mine eagerly questioned when she visited.

The tightening sensation was there, you can’t runaway from it. But, what’s different with Sara’s birth as compared to Noemi’s birth was - my perception of the sensation.

When I was in active labor with Noemi, it was so painful I specifically remember that the pain was equivalent to period cramps multiplied by a hundred, by a thousand, by a gazillion-miliion. It was painful as HELL!! I was in so much pain it was absolutely fiiiine if you were to goddamn saw me in half.

What’s more, that damn contraction monitor sent me into panic each time I saw the numbers going up. “Oh oh here it comes, here it freaking comes!!!” Fear of the pain, I scoured through my brain for the pain relieving strategy that I had researched upon. I adopted the cat-pose instead of lying down, I moaned and groaned in low tone instead of high. Still, I could not escape the immense pain.

This time around, the same tightening sensations that caused me so much pain made me feel like I had to go, really badly. It felt like I was having this really bad diarrhoea that I must go right there and then! Every tightening that got stronger, the I-gotta-go sensation became more intense. But with every birth breathing, I went deeper into baby, got more focused into working together with baby for a gentle birth, and knew that each tightening took me one step closer to seeing and holding baby... Talk about the motivation of amore.

With Noemi, I was so afraid of the pain my breaths were short and brief; with Sara, I took slow-deep breaths through out the labour. The breathing techniques that I learned helped tremendously, it helped release tension during tightening.

Having said that, the labour wasn’t completely pain free, because that pitocin jab on my left thigh was painful! Again, no pun intended.. If I were to label a part of this experience with the word ‘pain’, this is one.

When baby came through the birth canal, stretched muscles caused some pain. But was it bearable? Yes.

My initial aim for taking up the hypnobirthing course was to have a pain free birth without the use of drugs. Through these classes I acquired much more than that. I was calm, alert and in charge of my own birth. I welcomed baby with love instead of a curse word, and she came through me in a smooth and gentle labour of amore.

I can’t say much about the birth being a relaxing and enjoyable one, well it could have been. Oh yes it could have been a total sublime birthing experience that is spa-like, if I wasn’t harassed *ahem* offered unnecessary assistance by the medical staff AND if I was surrounded by people who knew what I wanted thus enhancing the experience.

Boy oh boy, I cannot explain how good it actually feels to once again sit down in a comfortable position, tapping my thoughts and feelings away on the keypad of this Mac. 

Lots have happened in the time that I was absent from babbling away about Noemi and bringing her up peacefully. In fact, there was a good amount of time that I did not feel peaceful at all. I was completely swooped up into the air of emotions and I had zero power over it. The strength to rise above it all was gone with the wind... I absolutely hated the way I was! I mean I knew what was going on, and what could I have done instead of all that screaming, yelling and smacking! Even though so, I was completely at lost, as if my sense of being was sucked out of me.

That image of Noemi’s big red teary eyes and the pout told me so many things that broke my heart... Through that look on her face, I read “I can’t believe you smacked me the way you did.” It tore my heart into million pieces, and yet I had no power to stop it from happening for more than once.

I knew exactly what I did wrong, I knew exactly what could have been the best way around it, I knew I should go back to reading the stuff that led me into it all in the first place - to anchor myself once more. Despite all that I knew, I just did not feel like it, information that once motivated me irritated me, they annoyed me, I did not want anything to do with it. I just wanted to let myself be hooked and dragged by the nose to go along with the devil hormones.

I don’t remember being as emotional as this time around when I was pregnant with Noemi. Well, I’ve got a mummy’s brain, so I can’t really trust my memory anyway.

Poor husband did not have it easy as well... I was triggered enough of times to have yelled and screamed and cried bawled and let the ugliest get hold of me. Even though he did not react in the way I wanted him to, but he reacted in the way he knew and felt best, and I’m truly thankful for that. 

Thank goodness that this ordeal only lasted throughout my 2nd trimester. I was afraid that it would stick with me until God knows when... Well, the good news is, I feel much calmer now that we’re nearing the estimated due; I feel so much more myself, Noemi’s got her peaceful mom back. *Exhaling relief* Yes, she’s back - and the world is once again in order. :)