Baby Will,

You are highly likely not a baby anymore by the time you can read this. But remember this – You will always be my baby. My love for you will never change and you can count on me to be here for you anytime you need me.

If you are not grossed out by the mention of mucus plug and blood and all, you can read the prelude to your birth story here.

Otherwise, here’s a quick recap. On the Sunday before you were born, at 35 weeks pregnant, I lost my mucus plug, which was waaay too early. We rushed to the hospital and got sent home to be on bed rest. So I spent the next day feeling restless and googling “Am I in labour?” + “When will I go to labour” all day long.

Just when I was feeling positive about being able to carry you to full term because plugs can easily reform themselves and losing it could mean absolutely nothing, I had more discharge on Tuesday. Again, we rushed to see Dr Wee (my ob-gyn) because I was certain it was the waterbag breaking. This time, we even brought our hospital bags along. It was a false alarm. Just more plugs(!?!) and not a drop of amniotic fluid. You seemed happy swimming inside my womb and the doctor said it could be 50/50 chance that I may deliver within the week or actually give birth close to the EDD. Come to think of it – that doesn’t really say much, does it?

So we were sent home again, relieved and happy because every extra day you spend inside me, the better it is for you. By Wednesday, I was getting used to spending all my time in bed. I was rather productive too. I had my laptop in there with me – editing blog posts, ordering grocery and online shopping for diapers and all.

Thursday went by uneventfully. I had mild contractions but they weren’t regular. I told your dad when he got back from work that I’ve been going to the toilet a lot, so that could be the sign. It’s not universal, but it has consistent with your sisters’ birth, so I knew.

The contractions intensified around dinner time, about 20-30 minutes apart. The baby is coming!

And then, NOTHING for a good hour or so. False alarm!

When your dad declared bedtime around 11 pm, the contractions were pretty consistently coming every 10 to 15 minutes. Every time I found myself dozing off, I got hit by another wave of cramps. I could have gone to the hospital at this point but I remained hopeful that those were just false monsters and I could still carry you until full term. I thought to myself – I would only leave for the hospital if I get at least 5 consistent contractions 5 minutes apart.

This went on until 4 am. By then, the contractions have definitely picked up in momentum. It’s h-u-r-t-i-n-g and I felt like smacking your dad on his snoring head. But I still wasn’t getting the consistent 5 minutes! They were 8 to 10 minutes apart.

Then, at 4:22 am, I had a couple of contractions 2 minutes apart. I freaked out and woke your dad up. I DID NOT want to deliver in a taxi!

Everything happened in an instant. Dad freshened up in the toilet while I changed out of my pajamas. I actually stood in front of the wardrobe thinking what I should wear and then it hit me that it doesn’t matter, I’ll be gowned up and ready for action as soon as we get to the hospital. Your sister Georgia came out an hour after we reached the hospital. So it was highly likely that your birth was going to be quick too.

I informed Amor (our helper) that we were leaving and daddy booked a cab. The ride to Mount Elizabeth Hospital at Novena took 10 minutes. I rather like giving birth at this hour. Everyone is asleep, the air is cool and there isn’t any traffic.

Not surprisingly, we were the only people in the lobby when we arrived. I practically screamed at the receptionist as we walked through the door; rattling off how frequent my contractions were, the timing, my doctor’s name, and basically everything she needs to know about the impending birth. The nice receptionist didn’t seem to mind at all. She’s probably used to seeing hysterical pregnant women. A nice nurse came a second later and whisked me right up to the delivery suite.

It could just be my imagination, but I think the entire nurse station sprang into action as I was wheeled in. Premature birth! High-risk alert!

There isn’t any WEU (women’s evaluation unit) at Mount Elizabeth Novena. You know, a ward where they put pregnant woman for an hour to make sure their birth is making progress? Over here, I get to go straight to the delivery room. Yay!

While the nurses set things up around me, I was getting comfortable, knowing l would be well taken care of. One of the nurses put in an IV and did a phenomenal job, it didn’t hurt! Usually, it takes many pokes because my veins are tiny and they rarely can find it on the first go.

Your dad had to go and sort out the admission paperwork while I watch a Chinese movie called “A Man Named Hero”. I wondered it was a sign to name you “Hero”. So we use it as your middle name.

Just joking! Of course. we didn’t!

Instead, I was focusing on the beautiful children photos on the wall. My only concern was you. I wholly believe in mind over matter and I tried to stay positive by imagining you would come into the world healthy – without having to spend the first few days of your life in NICU.

A nurse checked me and I was 4cm dilated. It was 6am and she said I’ll most likely pop at 9am.

Which means there’s still time for interventions. Epidural now, please!

The anesthetist came in some 20 minutes later and did her thing. Dr Yvonne Lim attended to me when I gave birth to your sisters too. What are the odds?

My past epidural placements weren’t painful but this time was different. I tensed up and let me tell you, it was intense! I could feel the medication burning through my veins. A nurse knew I was in pain and swiftly handed me the laughing gas. I took three puffs and found myself relaxing. No more pain. God bless medicated births.

As to not break with tradition, your dad and I debated over our kids’ names in between contractions. Will had been our top contender but I have been swayed by Atlas during the last couple of weeks. I was pretty adamant I wanted Atlas. However, almost everyone (okay, everyone) we asked preferred Will. So I admitted defeat 3 days later and we named you Will.

Doctor Wee arrived and broke my water bag. I felt a gush of warm water flowing out and that was it. No turning back now.

Also, my Group B strep test result wasn’t ready yet. To be on the safe side, I was given the antibiotic jab on my butt, which h-u-r-t-s! Basically, everything hurts during childbirth. So you better appreciate whoever giving birth to your child in the future.

Back to the antibiotic. It takes 20 minutes or 45 minutes(?) for the medication to take effect, I can’t remember but this is what you get for waiting 3 weeks to write this out. Anyway, what I can remember though was that my awesome nurse gave me a little butt massage to get the medication going.

While we waited for your grand entrance, your dad and I busied ourselves by waking everyone up with ‘BABY IS COMING!’ texts. My nurse (who was impressively articulate and super caring) kept coming in to check my progress. She also handed me a tablet to pick my breakfast, lunch, snack, dinner, and supper.

Gobsmack by the number of choices – Chinese, Confinement, Western, Malay and another plain/simple (??? – I can’t remember, fuzzy memory.)

By 9 am, I was complete and ready to push. How accurate was my nurse?

I alerted the nurse and soon, a whole village was in my delivery suite – Dr Wee, Dr Keoy (the pediatrician because you were premature), and a few nurses. Normally the nurse will do a practice push or two with the mother to see if the baby is going to pop out or if it will be awhile but we didn’t do any practice pushes. They had complete confidence in me, I suppose. You are baby #3 after all.

The pushing commenced. Puuuuuuuuushhhh, puuuuuuuushhhh and another puuuuuuuushhhhh… A total of three long, hard pushes and Dr Wee said, “Pen!”.

Your dad and I were like, “Huh?”. Apparently, he meant ‘pant’, as in short, quick breath. I don’t remember having to pant when I gave birth previously but I did as I was told and you slid right out at 9:13 am.

I heard your sharp cries and thought to myself – his lungs are strong enough for cries! He is a-okay!

They laid you on my chest and you immediately stopped crying. We waited for a while before your daddy cut your umbilical cord to allow extra blood to flow from the placenta to you. The nurses were all around us, wrapping you to keep you warm. All I could see at the moment was your hands opening and closing, trying to grasp on to something. So I slipped my finger in your hand. That was the first time we held hands.

We didn’t get immediate skin-to-skin time because a premature baby’s first examination has to take place immediately. We or rather your pediatrician had to make sure you are able to maintain your own body temperature, your heart rate is within the normal range, look for any abnormalities or injury that may have sustained during birth and most importantly, evaluate if you have any trouble breathing.

I’m so grateful that we were in good hands at Mount Elizabeth Hospital. The nurses, perhaps sensing my worry for you, were never short of reassuring words and kept me updated on how you were doing.

Your first few breath were shallow but you were able to breathe without assistance. You didn’t even need to go to the NICU. What a trooper!

I was so happy when they finally let us have some skin-to-skin time. You were strong enough to latch on already!

By the time we were ready to be wheeled to our staycation suite, I told daddy I would gladly go through the whole process a thousand times more.

Welcome to the world, my son. Words can’t express how happy I am to have you in my life.

PS: Stay tuned for my review on our hospital stay at Mount Elizabeth Novena next week!

My book is out. Get your copy here!