Mothers Make It Work: Leaving On A Jet Plane

(Editor’s Note: Owls Well is proud to welcome Cat K as a guest contributor on the Mothers Make It Work blog train! Cat K and I went to school together, and I have always admired her grit and determination, as well as her selflessness towards the people she loves. Cat K is a happy-go-lucky pharmacist who currently lives in Melbourne with her family. Apart from raising her two tween-aged kids and managing territorial disputes between her pet rabbits and cats, she also finds the time for baking delicious cakes. In her post she’ll be talking about the dhifficulties that she faced as a young mum in relocating to another country with young children and in-laws in tow. We are so happy that she agreed to share her story with us! – Debs G)

Hello Owls Well Readers,

Everyone has their own reasons for emigrating. There are many reasons why people choose to leave the safe and efficient country of Singapore.

As young mother with a young family, it seemed ludicrous to others that I would leave the comfort of the “village” (i.e. adoring family members who help to look after the little ones), as well as a successful career as a senior clinical pharmacist in one of Singapore’s largest hospitals. My reason was simple – to ensure that my family stayed together. My husband was already living in Melbourne studying to become an academic and I was determined that the family should be there with him.

Melbourne boasted wide open spaces, a tolerant society, a bustling cultural scene and a wonderful temperate climate but Singapore was where my family and friends were and where my career was. I was torn between the two and it was with much trepidation that I left for Australia.

The questions of whether I could find work, whether the children could fit in and whether they could enter good schools were high on my worry list. More pressing was the fact that children had not seen their father for months. They were disinterested in the daily Skype sessions and the time difference between Singapore and Melbourne did not help matters at all.

Bringing the family back together was my top priority and I knew that as long as we were together, everything would work out.

I often thought of my own paternal grandmother who left Hainan Island and her family behind to follow her heart and be with her love, my grandfather, in Singapore. I liked to think that I was following in her footsteps.

The time that it took to prepare for our move measured a full year and we all had to work together to make it happen.

My husband had to travel around Melbourne to look for a place to settle the family. We had numerous Skype sessions and emails to finalise the location of our new family home. In the meantime, I had to study and pass a qualification exam by the Australian Pharmacy Council in order to apply for permanent residency.

During this one year, I learnt to sleep early when the children went to bed at 9pm and wake up at 3 am to study for the exam. I quickly realised that it was so much easier to complete tasks – study, housework and exercise – in the morning when the children were asleep. I was fortunate to be living with my in-laws, as they helped with cooking and looked after my children during the day while I was at work.

I still get stuff done early in the morning now…but not all at once anymore

As I had to work on Sundays at the pharmacy once or twice a month, my mother-in-law advised me to stay with my parents on Saturday nights, and take a taxi home on Sundays. This would give my children precious time to bond with my parents and provide some respite for my in-laws. I also worked a half-day on Saturdays, so after the end of my shift, I would run home from work, pack the overnight bag for the children and then get a lift from my father-in-law to my parents’ place.

Life was a blur. I was working full-time, studying for the Australian Pharmacy Council exam, raising two toddlers and keeping house for my family. I managed to squeeze in time to shower my children twice daily and spend time reading with my son. When I took on the responsibility of supervising an intern pharmacist, I had to make time to vet her presentations and project work as well.

At my worst point, I was sleeping only three hours daily for two months in order to juggle work, study, and family. I had lost a great deal of weight as I was just too stressed and busy to eat. When I had to take leave from work to bring my infant daughter for her vaccinations, or attend my son’s parent-teacher meetings at his childcare centre, I often told my colleagues at work that I was living like a single parent.

It was a logistical nightmare trying to plan and pack for everyone according to the baggage restrictions. I had to ensure that my 18-month old daughter had adequate supplies of milk powder and diapers to give me time to find the Australian equivalent of Similac and Mamy Poko. I remember squeezing three body pillows with our clothes into one suitcase! The last step was to arrange for a moving company to ship all our precious books over.

Finally, we left Singapore.

When the plane landed in Melbourne after a 7-hour flight, a wave of relief washed over me. I had been up and about for most of the flight walking my fussy toddler to sleep and was completely exhausted, but I was looking forward to finally getting to see my husband. It was great having the family together again.

Although my in-laws were glad to see my husband again, they were shocked and upset when they saw our new home. Their old apartment was situated across the road from a large shopping mall with all its conveniences, and this new suburban place seemed too quiet and remote in comparison. My husband and I had been so focused on making sure that the transition for our children was as smooth as possible, that we had overlooked how his aged parents would manage. I realised that adjusting to this new environment was going to take a lot of time for everyone.

I planned to take two weeks to look around where we were and figure out how things worked in Melbourne, but I completely underestimated how long it would take for everyone to settle in. There were a lot of new things to get used to!

Going from a tropical climate to a temperate climate took some adjustment. Bath time routines were initially incredibly stressful for me, as I worried about finding the same skincare products as we had in Singapore and whether children would fall ill from the cold autumn air. Fortunately for me, their skin loved the dry climate and improved with each passing day. In the end, my children adapted well to the cold weather – they just loved it.

Living in a wooden frame bungalow made of plasterboards was a new experience too. Like most Singaporeans, I had lived all my life in a high-rise apartment and was used to hearing noises from our neighbours, but now, I had to make myself investigate every single sound. Every creak and scratch could be a burglar making rounds, or a mouse – or worse – creeping around the house. Even cleaning the house presented a challenge. The bathroom floor did not have a drain hole so I could not wash the bathroom floor in the way I was used to. The bedroom floors in the rental house were carpeted -something I really hated – and made cleaning horrible, especially with toilet-training children.

After being trained as a clinical pharmacist in major hospitals in Singapore for 7 years, I was not going to let my pharmacy training go to waste. After I passed my Australian Pharmacy Council exam – I got the results the day after we landed in Melbourne – I immediately started to look for an internship position. My lucky stars must have been shining on me as a close friend introduced her preceptor to me and I got the internship spot! It was a good start on my way to obtaining an Australian Pharmacist license.

I had been a senior position in Singapore for five years before going to Australia, and had been in charge of not only the wards and services, but was also responsible for training pharmacy students. Now, I had to start from scratch as a retail pharmacist, which required a change of mindset. Retail pharmacy was so different, and I had never had to work a cash register before! It was a humbling experience, but seeing my husband and my children playing together in the living room made it all worthwhile.

One of the joys of living in Australia was finally having my own oven. Having an oven is so expensive in Singapore especially with the high electricity tariffs. I was so happy to make my son’s birthday cake a few days after we arrived in Melbourne. Finally, we were able to celebrate his birthday together as a complete family.

Going to the shops, I was aghast at how expensive things were in Australia. A box of Kleenex 100’s was AUD$3! Gosh, that was daylight robbery! (Fortunately, the price of tissues has dropped since then.) At the checkout, customers were the ones who handled the EFTPOS or NETS machines and bagged groceries. Self-service, indeed. We could not flag down taxis in the suburbs, we had to book them in advance. The level of convenience of public transport was not the same; buses and trains followed a strict and infrequent timetable.

Thankfully, cars were five times cheaper than in Singapore and parking was free in the suburbs, if you parked for the allotted number of hours. I had a driver’s licence but had not driven much in Singapore but I had to learn to drive a large MPV around on unfamiliar Australian roads. It was nerve-wrecking trying to park the car! I soon found that driving in Melbourne was easy with its wide roads and friendly driving culture, although the traffic in the city centre can be as bad as traffic in Singapore.

Within a month of arriving, we had to settle the children’s childcare arrangements, and enrol my son into school. It was another stressful period looking for a suitable school. Fortunately, he got into the school of our choice or we might have had to move house again.

Putting the children in childcare was an opportunity for us to make friends. This was where I found another Singaporean mother whose child was good friends with my son. It was comforting to find someone who could teach me tips on living in Australia. We would arrange playdates and the children would play together. We soon became close family friends.

It has been eight long years since I moved to Australia with my little pigeon pair (that is a boy and a girl in Aussie speak!) and we are all very well-settled in our new home!

So, Owls Well Readers, here are my:

Top 10 tips for a smooth transition to a new country

1. Own your home

It would be hard to purchase or build a home the moment you move over, unless you have family living in that region who can help inspect properties for you. The logical way is to rent for short term whilst looking for a good home, a nice neighbourhood, and a good school for your children.

Having a safe and secure home is really important whilst having a young family. Renting may work for some but having the Sword of Eviction constantly hanging over one’s head can be stressful for the long term. Children need a nice environment to live in, and living out of boxes can take a psychological toll on them.

The best part of having one’s own home is pet ownership. Many rental properties do not allow pets. I have found that children grow up well with pets as it helps teach them responsibility and empathy. We started out by keeping fish, then rabbits, and now we also have cats.

2. Asian grocery shops are the BEST

I am lucky to have a husband who is an excellent cook, but he would be nothing without the local Asian grocery shop! This treasure trove will provide you with everything – for a price – that will ease the homesickness.

The suburb that we live in has numerous Asian groceries, and using good recipes from the internet always helped to satisfy our cravings for a taste of Singapore. Of course, there are some things that will never be the same (I’m looking at you, frozen durian).

3. Keep an open mind, and always make friends with your neighbours

It took us some time, but we have gotten to know our neighbours and are now close friends. Keeping good relations with the next door neighbour is absolutely important. If something happens at home, your neighbour would be the best person to help you.

4. Integrate yourself into the new community

Isolation is a poison that eats you up from the inside. You are already in a new environment, why not go out and learn about where you live? When I first got to Melbourne, I would strike up conversations with other passengers around me when I was on the train. It is a good way of making friends.

Working helps you to interact with the community and enhances your understanding of the country that you live in. Even if you cannot find a job, volunteering within the community would also let you find your new role and purpose.

5. Internet and social media are essential

When one is living overseas, homesickness is always there. Needless to say, getting a good data plan is essential. Unlike Singapore, most other countries will have numerous internet providers, and you can explore local forums to find out more about the companies and which one offers the best deals.

Social media allow you to keep in contact with family and friends, and the amazing world of the internet will provide you with good recipes to recreate the food from back home. Even now, I call my family almost daily, and it’s good hearing their voices and knowing how they were doing.

6. Always check the weather

In Singapore, the weather patterns are predictable all year round, but living in a lovely temperate climate (like Melbourne) generally means that the weather can be temperamental.

Always check the weather before you go out because it can be cold one day and hot the other. You certainly don’t want to be shivering in a short-sleeved top when the temperature drops to the top of 16⁰C, when it was the top of 25⁰C the day before.

7. Always seek help – you are never alone

Australia, just like many other countries, is all about helping people in need. Even if you do not use the internet, there are people at community centres, city councils, and migration hubs that can provide you with in-depth knowledge of the suburb that you are living in. They can even provide you with reviews of the various childcares in the local area.

8. Look for schools early – and adjust your expectations accordingly

If you thought Singaporeans were “kiasu” about schooling, the people in Melbourne are worse – and you’ll find the same attitude in most countries outside Singapore. Everyone wants the best for their children. Due to the great teacher to student ratios in Australia (20 to 26 students to one teacher and a helper), the student populations in Australian schools are low, with each level only holding up to 200 students. Hence competition for schools can be fierce. In Melbourne, it would be wise to register for private school as soon as your child turns two.

In suburbs with popular private schools, the waiting list can be miles long and enrolment into any school is based on the time the child is registered. Otherwise, if you want your child to go to a good public school, then remember that home location is key and you will have to be prepared to pay top dollar for a small unit.

9. Find a good GP (or pharmacist!) and ask them for advice

Common health ailments and medical care differs from country to country. Even the trade names of over-the-counter medications are different. Your local primary healthcare providers are a great resource and would have good local knowledge as well. If you have any issues with a strange new rash, or if you are worried (like we are in Australia) about a spider bite, ask a trusted healthcare professional – don’t try and treat it on your own.

Oh, and don’t forget to get to know your local pharmacist who can give you advice on over-the-counter treatments or help you with your prescriptions!

10. Get your driver’s licence

The Singaporean driving licence is very well recognised by many international boards, and can be converted directly to a local licence without a need to take additional tests. In many large countries, driving is the way of life – and it certainly is in Australia. Road trips are essential to getting to know the land that you are in.

Exploring the countryside with my hubby and kids

Every weekend since we arrived in Australia, we have taken the opportunity to travel and explore this big country. It has been great visiting all the famous landmarks in Melbourne. Travelling has helped us to broaden our horizons and increased our love for Australia.

***

Moving to a different country made me realise the essentials of living: Having a roof over our heads, clean clothes on our backs, food in our bellies, school, employment, and friends.

If you have all of this, you can survive anywhere.

by Cat K

This post is part of the “Mothers Make it Work!” Blog Train hosted by Owls Well. To read other inspiring stories, please click on the picture below.If you would like to travel to the previous stops on this Blog Train and read more interesting stories, you can check out Dorothea’s amazing Work-At-Home-Mum journey over at A Pancake Princess.

Dorothea is mum to two feisty and exuberant boys and spends most days playing in their pretend dinosaur world, dabbling in paints and bringing them on adventures. Of course, there’s also the never-ending breaking up of fights, meal time wars and messy rooms to deal with every day. She shares her parenting journey and faith lessons at A Pancake Princess.

Next week on the “Mothers Make It Work!” blog train, we’ll be heading over to visit Lyn Lee at Lil Blue Bottle. Lyn is a mother of two girls who has a full-time office job, and a lot of support from her village. She is one of the most thoughtful and generous people you could ever hope to meet, and I am privileged to call her a friend.

(Guest Post) Mothers Make It Work: Advice from a Part Time Working Mama

(Editor’s Note: Owls Well is proud to welcome Twinklystarz as our first guest contributor! A Becky C and I grew up with Twinklystarz and she has always been a very organised and hardworking person who seemed to have her life in order at all times. As of now, Twinklystarz is an expert tightrope walker, balancing work life in one hand and home life in the other. She has two boys – her hubby and 3 year old son – who bring her much joy. We are so excited that she agreed to write this post for us, so that we can have a peek into the world of a Part-Time Working Mama! – Debs G)

Hello Owls Well Readers,

I am a 3-year-old Mama.

Yes, it has taken me THAT amount of time to find some semblance of a work-life-kid equilibrium.

Quite often, that delicate balance is less than perfect, and Mommy Guilt gets to me almost every other day. That being said, I thank God every day for many bountiful blessings: the opportunities to spend one-on-one time with my 3-year-old during the work week, a job that keeps me sufficiently challenged – mostly mentally – and above all, The Village (more on this later) that supports me and keeps our little household of three happy, well-fed and thriving.

My Journey to becoming a Part-Time Working Mama
My mum was a Stay At Home Mama to my brother and I, so naturally, I intended to be the same.

Growing up, I liked having someone to come home to and I wanted to be that someone when it was my turn to have a family. I even planned my first career around this, accounting for some flexibility to stay at home but still earn an steady income.

But, Life (God, rather) threw several curveballs at me, around the time The Hubs and I were planning to get married. In the end, I left my supposedly-flexible job for an office job with fixed hours, and we bought our new home at a time when housing prices in Singapore were sky high.

When S was born, I stayed at home for a year. During this time, our finances were starting to become uncomfortably tight, especially since we were repaying our housing loan. I was also gradually turning into a recluse and I was getting very bored of being trapped at home with a non-communicative baby. I struggled significantly at this stage with mommy guilt, believing that I wasn’t making good use of the time God had given me, whilst also wishing that I had the financial luxury to stay at home for the long-term.

The Hubs and I with S at one year old

On hindsight, if I persevered beyond the early toddler stage, it probably would have gotten quite interesting and challenging. Who knows?

When I first went back to the office, turning over care of S to my parents, I relished learning new material at work and was very happy being busy again in a nine-to-five setting.

However, I was overwhelmed with mommy guilt and my poor parents probably received anxiety-ridden Whatsapp messages every half hour! This mommy guilt never really faded even after a full year.

A little over half a year ago, The Hubs got a new job which came with a sizeable pay increase, so I took the opportunity to negotiate a part-time contract with my company.

And this is where I’ve been since then, working three-and-two-thirds days a week at the office, which leaves me a full day during the working week to spend with little S.

This precious mid-week day off has been great in giving S and I that special one-on-one time to get to know each other better, especially as my toddler transitions to the preschool stage (and is now a lot more communicative).

This journey to find the right work-life balance for me has been long in coming, and I hope you will find the following tips useful in finding your centre of gravity in this crazy mama life:

1) Know yourself

My year as a Stay At Home Mama taught me a lot about some qualities a mom should have in order to remain sane in the house. I decided to take on the role without much forethought, but realised that to make full use of the time at home with a little one, a substantial amount of planning is required.

As the little one grows and begins to explore, meaningful learning activities need to be thought out and planned in advance. Unfortunately, while I can organise big events like parties, I couldn’t seem get together small little details in a fixed daily schedule. Babies and toddlers do benefit from some routine and structure, and that doesn’t work for me – I like to go with the flow. It took me the whole year to admit to myself that unlike my mom, I wasn’t cut out for the Stay At Home Mama life.

2) Don’t sweat the small stuff at home

When you have to outsource your care-giving, you can’t sweat the small stuff – after all, The Village is doing the work of parenting on your behalf! I have learnt to gratefully let go of the controls, and trust the judgment of my son’s caregivers.

Learning to let go has helped me in many ways, especially when my son transitioned to preschool and I have to put my trust my son’s teachers daily. Communication is key to building trust between caregivers – my parents, The Hubs and I have a very active Whatsapp chat group where we decide together what to do with S on a day-to-day basis. Starting this chat group helped keep me calm and reassured when I first went back to work.

S with his security blanket, heading off to preschool

3) Also, don’t sweat the small stuff at work

Unfortunately, the current mentality of Singaporean employers is that part-time work is a privilege, not a right. While this is a topic for another day, I’m very thankful (eternally grateful, to be exact) that the bosses at my workplace are supportive and understanding, even though The Village can support me working full-time.

In my case, this also means understanding work exigencies and being willing to step up on occasion, regardless of the extra hours. I often work from home on my off-days, or stay back later than expected when work is urgent. I think my bosses appreciate my commitment to the job and this has probably helped me to convince them to let me work part-time for a longer period.

4) Grandparents are Gold 

I am also immensely thankful for The Village.

Having a ‘childcare centre’ at the Grandparents’ place has facilitated my part-time work arrangements, especially when I need to swop my off days due to urgent work demands. My colleagues often remind me that others rarely have such flexibility luxury. So, it’s difficult to express the full depth of gratitude that I have for my parents who are sacrificing their golden retirement years in order to care for little S.

Our Village also includes the Grandparents Set 2 (my in-laws), who give us a lift home every weeknight and keep us well-fed and healthy with hot, delicious meals all through the weekend – sometimes even right to our doorstep.

The greatest blessing of all with Village Care is to see the joy on the grandparents’ faces when they spend an extended amount of time with their grandchildren.

5) Above all, wait for God’s timing

It can take a long time to find out what works best for you and your family. Many times, I wanted to take things into my own hands whenever I was at my emotional limit. Like decide not to return to work. At all. Ever. Or request to go part-time much earlier than I eventually did.

In the end, God always intervened at exactly the right time – for example, when my boss offered me a new role to part-time on a long-term basis just when I was worried my temporary part-time arrangement would not continue. God has also blessed me with unexpected promotions so that although I started working part-time, the overall income flow would remain steady. I learnt we could always trust God to provide, in His perfect timing.

Oh, one last thing:

Fathers are important partners in your motherhood journey. The Hubs is the rock of our family and keeps me steady with practical advice and wise words.

The Hubs with S at the Singapore Art Museum

To The Hubs and all the dads out there, here’s wishing you a HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!

by Twinklystarz

This post is part of the “Mothers Make it Work!” Blog Train hosted by Owls Well. To read other inspiring stories, please click on the picture below.

If you would like to travel to the previous stops on this Blog Train and read more interesting stories, you can check out Candice’s thoughtfully written post over at MissusTay.com.

A part-time-working-mum to two preschoolers, Candice shares about parenting, activities with kids, marriage and travel in her journal at MissusTay.com.

Next week on the “Mothers Make It Work!” blog train, we’ll be heading over to A Pancake Princess to hear from Dorothea.

Dorothea is mum to two feisty and exuberant boys and spends most days playing in their pretend dinosaur world, dabbling in paints and bringing them on adventures. Of course, there’s also the never-ending breaking up of fights, meal time wars and messy rooms to deal with every day. She shares her parenting journey and faith lessons at A Pancake Princess.

Mothers Make It Work: We’re Owl in it Together (Part 1)

When I was born, the Aged Ps had been married for a few years, and my dad worked very long hours and was often sent out of the country for weeks at a time. So, when I was very small, my mum’s biggest challenge was to manage the household by herself and care for a small (and loud) child at the same time.

The Aged P with Debs G (4 months old): Mealtime is playtime

In order to keep the house clean and tidy, mum would make the best of baby morning and afternoon naptimes to mop the floors, wipe down the surfaces and do the laundry. She felt that it was most important to keep the floor and beds clean and tidy, as these were the places that would be most in contact with the baby.

As I grew older and more mobile, she bought a soft rug for me to play on, and trained me to stay on that rug during playtime so that she could complete her daily chores without worrying if I would be up to mischief.

If my dad was travelling, she would make sure that we were home every evening at the same time, as my dad would ring the house at 6pm without fail to talk to us. This was a very important daily ritual for the whole family, and even now, when my dad travels for work or if mum travels to visit my sister, they will FaceTime or Skype with each other at least once a day.

I will always appreciate the lengths that my mum went through to make sure that I acknowledged and remembered my dad, and understood where he was. She would bring out his photograph and point to it. She would point to the map and teach me to say the names of the places where he was working. She would make up songs about how much we loved each other. So, although he wasn’t physically present, I knew how important he was and our relationship was never diluted.

Although mum really loves to cook, going to the market daily with an infant in tow was pretty tiring for her, so she would only purchase enough to make breakfast and dinner every day. Additionally, as a child, I would always be full of beans in the morning, so she wouldn’t really be able to take the time out to prepare her own lunch if she wanted to spend that time meaningfully with me.

So, for lunch, mum first tried a local ‘tingkat’ or food delivery service, but soon tired of the repetitive menu. In the end, she made an agreement with one of our neighbours who had a large family and would set aside a portion of food for her. (Although the neighbour would often reserve the worst parts of whatever she happened to be cooking for my mum to eat – bony pieces like the chicken neck and the ends of vegetables – it at least saved her the trouble of meal planning and cooking!)

Mum often volunteered as the church organist and she sang in the church choir, so she would bring me along with her to attend rehearsals during the week. As an infant, I slept quietly in my moses basket during these times, and as I grew, I learned to sing along with her.

Breakfast before play school (Debs G at 2 years old)

The year that I turned 2 years old, one of mum’s friends persuaded her to send me to playschool.

Although she felt that I was too tiny for schooling, it was around this time that my elderly maternal grandfather started to require regular medical checkups. As the only daughter who didn’t hold a paying full-time job, it was left to her to accompany my maternal grandfather to his various appointments. Sending me to playschool would allow her a few hours in the morning with which to manage this.

However, one day, the medical appointment ran overly long and she was late in picking me up from playschool. By the time she arrived, she found to her utmost horror that all the teachers and the school principal had gone home, leaving me alone outside the darkened building with nobody but the school caretaker to watch over me.

You can imagine how traumatised we both were from that experience.

From that day onwards, as soon as we drove past the trees leading up the driveway to the playschool, mum said that I would start crying uncontrollably. She arranged to send me to a different school and I seemed perfectly happy with that – but she was much more careful to pick me up on time. This of course meant that she had to do much more shuttling back and forth if the medical appointments ran long, as she would pick me up from school and then drop me off at my maternal grandmother’s house, then return to the hospital to accompany my grandfather.

In Mobile, Alabama (Debs G at 3 years old): Before a ballet recital

Midway through my third year, my dad was posted to the US for further studies. He couldn’t bear to leave his family behind, so we all moved with him to a small town of Mobile in Alabama, which was near the university where my dad was studying sports medicine.

We were the only chinese family there in the Deep South of America.

It could have been dreadfully lonely, but my parents saw this as a great adventure.

The community in that small town was very welcoming, and they were very respectful of my parents, who were not only english-speaking, but polite and well-educated. It took my parents a while to understand the sleepy southern drawl but eventually they got used to it.

Instead of shyly keeping to herself, like most people would in a new environment, Mum made an concerted effort to be actively became involved in the community, bringing me to the local play school and dance studio and taking part in town events. She joined a quilting class and a cake decorating class in the mornings when I was at play school. Some afternoons, if my dad was at class, she would meet with the other housewives in the backyard of the rental complex where we lived. They would sit on the grass and chat whilst the kids played together.

She was always smiling and gracious to everyone. She would exchange recipes with her neighbours and very often, people would come round to our house carrying an empty bowl to enjoy some authentic chinese cooking or bring some delicious meals to share. At the first neighbourhood potluck party, all of our neighbours had never seen or eaten chinese food before, and the whole dish of stir-fried vegetables and fried beehoon noodles disappeared in a blink of an eye. Our neighbour was so impressed with the delicate pieces of thinly sliced meat amongst the crunchy julienned vegetables that he remarked that my mum “can take one piece of meat and feed an army”!

Until now, Mum still keeps in touch with her friends from Alabama – in fact our neighbour’s grandson has recently come to Singapore to work!

Of course, it was the constant travelling and their commitment to their elderly parents that probably made the Aged Ps decide put off having a second child until I was five years old and much more independent…but that’s a story for another post.

P.S. Happy Birthday Mummy!

This post is part of the ‘Mothers Make It Work!’ Blog Train hosted by Owls Well. To read other inspiring stories please click on the picture below.

If you would like to travel to the previous stops on this Blog Train and read more interesting birth stories, you can start with this very thoughtfully written one here, penned by Angie over at Life’s Tiny Miracles.

Angie is the Mommy behind the Life’s Tiny Miracles blog. The journey to Motherhood has been a bittersweet experience for her. As a mom of 5 kids (3 in Heaven), Angie embraces every bit of this season: the tears, the insanity, the sacrifices and the joy that comes from knowing she’s loved as a wife, a friend, a daughter and a Mom. In her post, she talks about the importance of a strong and supportive community in a mother’s journey.

At next week’s stop we will be visiting Michelle over at Mummy Wee.

Michelle is a mum to 6 kids and now that she has packed her last child off to school, she has time to channel her energies to her 7th baby, an enrichment centre she feels passionately about. I for one am very excited to read about how she manages all her kids – from her preschooler to her teenaged daughters – whilst working full-time at The Little Executive!

Choo choo! All aboard the blog train!

Hello Owls Well readers!

The Mothers Make It Work blog train is starting up today, starting with a thoughtfully written post by Hai Fang from MalMal Our Inspiration!

Hai Fang is a stay-at-home mom to 2 boys aged 7 and 13. She believes in eating healthy but has a weakness for simple sugar. Cycling and running is her way of keeping sane and writing forces her to think coherently.

This is a wonderful post full of useful advice on how to retain your own sanity amidst the current pressures of high-intensity parenting, whilst teaching kids to remain centred and true to themselves.

Hop on over and check her out!

For more inspiring stories, click on the picture below:

Mothers Make It Work! – A Blog Train hosted by Owls Well

Being a mother is very challenging, not just in raising children, but in meeting all the expectations that society has for us.

We are expected to raise angelic children, be loving and supportive wives, nurse our aging parents, hold on to successful careers, keep the house spic and span, cook instagram worthy meals and we have to look good whilst doing it. This can result in women feeling guilty or depressed that they don’t have it altogether perfect like everyone else.

Well, I say that nobody has it altogether perfect.

We’ve all worked hard and made sacrifices to get where we are, and we have also had to make compromises so that we can make it work. Sometimes, we try to balance things perfectly and somehow it backfires. Other times, it means arranging flexible working hours, or hiring a cleaner, or buying a car, or finding a childcare/parentcare arrangement that works. It could also mean re-organising our priorities or giving up on a long-cherished dream.

But in the end, one thing remains true – we are always trying to find the best way to make it work for us and our families.

In this blog train series, we’ll be visiting some of my favourite bloggers each week who will be sharing their mothering struggles and successes with us! I hope you will enjoy the journey with me!

(Links on this page will be updated as each post goes live)

4 May

Hai Fang from MalMal Our Inspiration: Motherhood

11 May

Angie.S from Life’s Tiny Miracles: Mothers Make It Work

18 May

Debs G from Owls Well: We’re Owl in it Together (Part 1)

25 May

Michelle from Mummy Wee: 5 Survival Tips of a Mum Boss

1 June

June from MamaWearPapaShirt: How this WAHM manages work and family without going insane

8 June  

Candice from MissusTay: Mothers Make it Work

15 June

Twinklystarz on Owls Well: Advice from a Part Time Working Mama

22 June

Dot from A Pancake Princess : Just another mum making it work

29 June

Cat K on Owls Well: Leaving on a Jet Plane

6 July

Lyn Lee from Lil Blue Bottle : Through challenges then and now

13 July

Elisa from Give them roots and wings : How mummies make it work

20 July

Karen from Mum’s Calling : Mothers make it work!

24 Aug

Angie Y. from Growing Hearts 123 : Hubs and My Views

28 Aug

David S. from Life’s Tiny Miracles : Parenting and Perdition- A Husband’s Perspective

29 Aug

Yann from Yannisms

31 Aug

Katherine S. from Bubba and Mama

7 Sept

Andy Lee from Sengkang Babies

14 Sept

Shubhada from Rainbow Diaries

21 Sept

Justine from Just Some Tings

28 Sept

Tracey O from Memoirs of a Budget Mum

5 Oct

Pooja K from Mums & Babies

12 Oct

Adeline C from Ade Says

How to Toddler (A Day in A Life Blog Train)

It has been over a year since I wrote about a typical Wednesday in the Owls Well household here in Singapore as part of the “A Day in A Life” Blog train hosted by Mum in the Making.

My schedule has, of course, changed greatly since the introduction of the littlest owlet #3, Thumper. Most of what I do right now involves supervising Thumper during his wake time, and then making sure that when Thumper is taking his naps, I divide my time between J and Little E so that they each get one-on-one time with me.

It’s very difficult to describe how I organise my day now, so I’m going to let Thumper tell you what we do on a typical Wednesday in this video:

I basically rinse and repeat the above twice more for lunch/afternoon nap and dinner/bedtime.

Getting Thumper into a flexible routine was key to my sanity this past year. As a result, Thumper is a predictable baby, and will take 2 hour nap times without fail. This frees me up to spend time with J and Little E, supervising their homework and free time, as well as complete whatever housework needs to be done, including meal preparation and laundry.

Efficiency is a key feature of my life right now!

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Up next on the ‘A Day in a Life’ Blog Train is our stationmaster, Jus from Mum in the Making.

She is a stay home mum to four, who relies on crafting and chocolate to keep her sane.

I myself am very curious to see how she manages a typical daily schedule where she has to care for her tiniest infant girl and three rambunctious boys, whilst homeschooling and running a most efficient household!

Get a glimpse into her day over at Mum in the Making!

Engagements and Secret Keeping: A Becky Lee’s Proposal Story

After The Boobook and I had been dating for three months, we started vaguely talking about marriage.

We even went to a marriage preparation course held by the local church, which helped us shape ideas about whether or not we were compatible and whether we could align our individual goals enough to be married. I know that this sounds very rushed, but bear in mind that we had been best friends for more than 10 years before we commenced dating[1], so there was very little that we didn’t know about each other.

Anyway, Australia tends to have jewellery sale seasons sometime around April every year.  So, when the sale season rolled around, The Boobook took me to many stores to take a look at rings. Romantic AND practical[2].

I was shown diamond ring after diamond ring, but I didn’t like ANY of the rings, mostly because they were all plain and sparkly white (and BORING). I did have a good laugh at many of them – my personal favourite ridiculous ring being a giant multi-diamond ring that the sales guy kept trying to hawk us. The diamonds spelled out “Jessica”. I have no idea why he thought that it would be a good idea to sell that to someone called “A Becky Lee”.

After much shopping, we found a store that didn’t immediately take us to the diamond section when I said I wanted a ring.  The lady listened very carefully to what I wanted and then helped us pick out a beautiful white gold ring set with diamonds and sapphires.

Photo courtesy of Photography by Delvene who did all my wedding photos!

Now, you’d think that given how much I cooed over the ring that The Boobook would settle for that ring there and then, but no, he wanted the ring to be a surprise. So, we ended up going to 4 more jewellery stores to look at 4 more sapphire rings (some of which were hideous). Then, he took me to the local EB Games store and left me there while he made his decision.

Three months later, The Boobook and I went to Singapore so that he could properly meet my parents.  He had met my parents before whenever they visited me in Australia, but never for very long.  This time, he was to meet them on their home turf.  Little did I know that in the intervening time, The Boobook had been very busy!

First, he had been in contact with Debs G to determine how much of a show he could put on when proposing[2].  Then, he got in contact with my best friend, Minako, in order to arrange for a proposal venue and a plan of action.  I believe these E-mails had the subject “Singapore Covert Ops – For your eyes only”.  It was all very hushhush, you know?

While we were in Singapore, The Boobook asked the Aged P for my hand in marriage after dinner one night.  The Aged Ps were very happy to give their consent and planning began immediately for our engagement party to be held while we were still in Singapore.

Meanwhile, Minako gave me a call and said that she’d like to meet us both so that she could, and I quote, “Get to know your boyfriend.”  She suggested Clarke Quay as a place to meet.  This surprised me somewhat, because Minako is not normally the type to hang out at overprised, touristy places like Clarke Quay, but she promised me that we were only going there because there was “a really great tonkatsu restaurant there”.  Since I trust Minako’s judgement on food, we agreed on a time (the evening) and date (this weekend) and I promised to take The Boobook there.

On the appointed day, The Boobook stated that he would like to go sightseeing before we met up with Minako.  So, we spent the day in all the most romantic places he could think of.  We started the morning taking a stroll in the Botanic Gardens, where we looked at the beautiful Orchid Gardens, then promptly got lost and ended up walking about 12 km just looking for the exit.  We strolled down Orchard Road and even did one of those Puzzle Rooms (we did, in fact, do the Teddy Bear room that very day!) that everyone was talking about!  Instead of taking the MRT to Clarke Quay, we took the ferry down the Singapore River.

Minako was waiting for us at the last stop.

We bought some bubble tea and started strolling down the Singapore River aimlessly.  I was happy to see my best friend again, so we fell to chatting gleefully as we walked.  Minako turned to one of the bridges and started crossing it, so I followed.  When we got to the centre of the bridge, The Boobook got down on one knee and…

…Minako caught it all on camera.

It wasn’t the smoothest of proposals.  He got the ring box upside down and the ring wouldn’t fit on my finger because I was a little swollen from the Singapore heat, but it was sweet and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Our engagement party was a few days later and well, the wedding was a few months after that.

The pork was delicious, by the way.  We also had a few ciders to celebrate.

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This post is part of the Proposal Stories blog train hosted by The Chill Mom. If you would like to read some more romantic stories, just click on the button below!

The next stop on your blog train is Adeline from www.adesays.com!

Adeline is a mum to a little boy. What started as a blog to document her passion in sewing women apparels has now evolved to include her motherhood journey of ups and downs, joy and challenges. She had wanted to keep her proposal story private but spurred on by all the love stories shared by others that she had to join in the fun. Click on to read about her love story.

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[1] A summary of this relationship can be found here[a].

[2] I’m an accountant, okay? Saving money is like SUPER-DUPER romantic to me!

[3] According to Debs G, she told him that I would probably like “something over the top that doesn’t involve negative emotions, but not too over the top, as that would stop being sweet and start being cheesy[b].” I do believe she also told The Boobook “No Jumbotrons”

[a] What?!  I only just got married – I may as well get my money’s worth on all the videos that I paid for!

[b] I blame Debs G for The Boobook not proposing in Disneyworld as a result (too cheesy).

Birth Stories: Thumper pops in (or, Serving an eviction notice written in Raspberry Leaf Tea)

Thumper had been the most active baby out of all my pregnancies. He kicked the hardest and pummelled with his fists and would even somersault in the womb. Ever heard the phrase ‘turn my stomach’? It’s not the most pleasant feeling.

At around 34 to 36 weeks of pregnancy, babies begin to sit a little lower in the womb and their little heads start to lower or engage in the pelvis. Locked and loaded, ready to fire.

However, judging from the way Thumper was still performing acrobatics, I knew that there would be plenty of space and amniotic fluid for him to swim around in. I was not surprised to hear at my 39th week checkup that he was so happy floating around in his anti-gravity chamber that his head was not engaged in the weeks leading up to his birth. According to my obstetrician this was more common in 3rd children and beyond – they would start to drop perhaps moments before labour begins.

I was disappointed. I had thought that maybe, just maybe, this little guy would come out early. Waddling around was not terrible or painful, as Thumper was markedly smaller than Little E was, but I was feeling nauseous and sickly all the time. Additionally, I had difficulty turning over in bed at night so I was waking up stiff and uncomfortable in the mornings. All of this was making me tired and wearing down my nerves, making me increasingly grouchy and snappish.

It was time to serve Thumper his eviction notice.

“Are you getting any contractions at all?” asked my doctor.

I shook my head. Apart from Thumper’s calisthenics, I wasn’t feeling anything else. “No, I’m just heavy and uncomfortable and tired of being pregnant.”

My doctor laughed, “Maybe you can try walking around more and drink some raspberry leaf tea.”

“Raspberry leaf tea? What’s that supposed to do?”

“Oh, some women feel that it helps to induce labour. I have no idea if it really has any true effect of hastening labour, but it won’t hurt to try. At the very least you’ll be well-hydrated.” said the doctor, with a little twinkle in her eye.

Right then.

Raspberry leaf tea it is.

I went to the nearest pharmacy and bought out their entire stock of raspberry leaf tea, then went home and brewed a cup straight away.

I sipped my tea hopefully.

Nothing.

Week 40 rolled around, and nothing was happening. Nothing at all. It was my due date and Thumper wasn’t showing signs of moving out despite the gallons of Raspberry Leaf Tea.

Strangely enough, although I wanted Thumper out NOWNOWNOW, I was also feeling incredibly blasé about the whole thing. In my earlier two pregnancies, I had anxiously prepared my hospital bag and gotten my documents together weeks in advance. But for this pregnancy I had been quite relaxed, only getting out the baby clothes and packing the hospital bag just a few days before my estimated due date.

At the obstetrician’s office, she looked at me and sighed. “Normally I do not like to induce labour before 42 weeks, especially if you haven’t been feeling any contractions at all, because I always think that babies have a good reason why they aren’t ready to come out yet…but I guess we can set a date at 41 weeks if you really want. Now go and walk around more!”

That afternoon, I had three contractions. THREE. I knew what they were at once as they were powerful ones and quite uncomfortable. I had to puff my way through them, but they didn’t last or continue on long enough to be meaningful. I told the Barn Owl about them and he got all excited at first, but when he saw how unaffected I was, he calmed down and tried not to look disappointed.

A few days later, I was still getting the odd run of contractions now and again. Although they were quite strong and painful ones, they lasted only a few seconds and seemed to ease off completely after half an hour or so. I was still driving the kids around, not really bothering to change my schedule too much until the Barn Owl very wisely pointed out that when things got going, I probably should not be stuck alone on the motorway with two kids in the back seat. So we called the Aged Ps up and had them take turns to go on Babywatch Duty, and we stayed over at the Aged P’s place whenever the Barn Owl was working the night shift.

It was two days before our booked in date of induction and I started feeling strangely agitated for no reason whatsoever. Midway through the night, I woke up and looked at the clock. It was around 3am. I paced the floor for a while, and then woke the Barn Owl up.

“You have to take the day off tomorrow.” I told him.

“Why? Are you having contractions now?” he asked, suddenly wide awake.

“No, I’m not. But, you have to take the day off. Tell them it’s an emergency! I need you to take the day off.”

“I don’t know if I can do that!” said the Barn Owl, affronted by my insistence, “I wouldn’t have a good reason! I have to give the office a reason because it’s so last minute and people have to double up at work to cover for me!”

I had a sudden feeling wash over me that was a mixture of despair and crushing anxiety. It was all too much. I burst into tears.

“I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care!” I sobbed hysterically, “You have to call the office and tell them you can’t go to work tomorrow! Just tell them that your pregnant wife is having a psychotic break! You just…you just have to take the day off! You just have to!”

The Barn Owl looked at me worriedly.

“Ok, calm down. Here, take this tissue. I’ll take some family care leave tomorrow and there’s a guy who said he’d cover me if ever you went into labour. But I can only do this for one day. You can’t ask me to do this again if you aren’t in labour ok?”

Feeling very relieved, I wiped my face with the tissue and blew my nose noisily, mumbling, “Some guy offered to cover you? I’m going to give him a cake.”

“What about me? I want cake! Why don’t I get cake? I’m going to take the day off because my wife’s lost her marbles, I think I should get cake,” demanded the Barn Owl.

“Okokok, you get cake, too.”

The Barn Owl scowled at me. “Promises, promises. You and I both know that the cake is a lie.”

So saying, we both giggled at each other and went to sleep.

The next morning, the Barn Owl called up his office and took a day of family care leave. We both took J to school for 7am, which meant that we had an hour to kill before we needed to drop Little E at school.

Usually, I would go to the Aged Ps house and have a quiet breakfast with Little E and do her hair up in braids. But the Barn Owl insisted on driving to her kindergarten early, parking the car at the top of the hill.

“We’re going to walk Little E to school!” he announced.

So, we all got out and walked Little E down the hill, and wandered around the school compound with her, before dropping her off at class. I was covered in a fine layer of perspiration by this time and had a persistent backache, but the Barn Owl said, cheerfully, “Let’s have breakfast at the little cafe on the hill where we parked the car.”

I knew that it would make no sense to get him to circle the car round for me, so whilst the Barn Owl strode up the hill, humming happily, I trailed along slowly behind him thinking dark thoughts to myself and stopping occasionally to breathe my way through a contraction, but I forgave him soon enough when he bought me a lavish breakfast.

A few hours later, we picked Little E up from school and headed to the public library. I was feeling quite hungry by now, so I sat and rested in the library cafe with a tall drink and ordered a plate of crinkle cut fries. A run of contractions had started up again.

The Barn Owl and Little E found me in the cafe whilst I was concentrating on breathing through another contraction.

“What’s going on?” asked the Barn Owl.

“Oh, I’ve been having a few contractions again. They aren’t very regular, but they seem to be lasting longer now. Relax. I don’t think anything is happening yet.” I said airily, nonchalantly sipping my lime juice.

So we picked J up from school and headed home.

The minute I stepped out of the car, I immediately regretted not being a little bit more cautious. The contractions were much more painful and they were making me break out in a cold sweat.

I lay down on the couch with my watch and realised, to my horror, that the contractions were now 15 minutes apart and lasting a minute each time. I should probably get to the hospital. Now, both J and Little E were happily playing with legos on the floor with the Barn Owl, so I didn’t want to freak out and make them worry needlessly.

I said to the Barn Owl, “I think we need to go to the hospital. Can you call my mum and tell her to come here to take over the kids? I’m going to have a shower.”

I found it very difficult to concentrate during my shower. It helped ease the pain of contractions a little bit, but they were definitely coming every 10 minutes now.

I dressed slowly and emerged from the bathroom to find the Barn Owl sitting in the children’s room, reading stories to J and Little E. “Hi Mummy!” they chorused as I came into the room and started slinging clothes and school uniforms willy nilly into an overnight bag.

“Is the Aged P here? Is she on her way?”, I asked the Barn Owl.

“Oh, I haven’t called her yet.”

I shot him a look and said carefully, ever aware that the eyes of the children were on me, “You have to call her now. We need to go to the hospital now.”

“Ok!” said the Barn Owl, skipping off to phone the Aged P, while I went to the bathroom to gather the children’s toiletries.

Half an hour later, the Aged P still hadn’t arrived although we only live 15 minutes drive away.

The contractions were now 5 minutes apart and getting quite terrible – maybe 8/10 on my personal pain scale. There was a great pressure on my pelvis with each contraction and I was sitting on the couch, squeezing my hands and knees together in an effort to keep myself from shaking uncontrollably, all the while staring at the door and wondering why, why, WHY is the Aged P not here yet?

At last, the Aged P arrived. She breezed in through the door with a cheerful, “Hallo hallo!”.

There was no reply from me. I had my eyes screwed shut as I breathed through another contraction.

The Aged P was indignant. “I said, Hallo Hallo!” she said, sharply.

I looked up at her and muttered, through gritted teeth, “Yes, Yes, Hallo.”

The Aged P was aghast at my sweat-covered face. “Why haven’t you gone to the hospital yet?!” she asked.

“Because we are waiting for you!” I said, irritably.

(Turns out, I found out later, that the Barn Owl had rung her up and, lulled into a false sense of security by my calm demeanour, had said something to the effect of, “Debs is having contractions and we need to go to the hospital, can you come? She seems ok, so take your time.” So the Aged P had blithely and unknowingly gone on to have a long shower and do her hair before coming out.)

The Aged P went to the children’s bedroom, where, for some reason beknownst only to himself, the Barn Owl was still sitting there reading stories. Meanwhile, I managed with the strength of my will to walk to the door, all the time leaning on the wall for support.

I was reaching that stage of labour where everyone becomes too slow, too stupid and they talk like the teacher from the “Peanuts” cartoons. Where was everyone? Most importantly, where was the Barn Owl?

“WE HAVE TO GO WE HAVE TO GO NOW!” I bellowed to anyone who would listen, all semblance of calm completely gone.

I heard some muffled sounds coming from corridor. I looked up and saw the Barn Owl floating slowly down towards me.

“Kwa kwa kwa kwa kwa kwa” he said.

“Aaaargh now then you want to go to the toilet NO IT IS NOT OK AT ALL ARGH HURRY UP!”, I howled at him as he drifted away.

By the time we got to the car, the contractions were 3 minutes, maybe 2 minutes apart. The whole world was shaking and I felt as if all my innards were going to drop out onto the floor. To our utmost horror, the motorway leading to the hospital from our house was completely chock-a-block full of unmoving cars. Turning on the radio, we realised that there had been a huge car pile up and there was no choice but to take the small back roads.

My heart sank.

I knew that the Barn Owl would have no hope of navigating there on his own and need me to give him directions, even with our GPS chirping in his ear. The Barn Owl was already very tense, driving with his nose nearly resting on the steering wheel.

However, talking at a normal volume was an impossible task for me at that moment, as I was feeling a tremendous urge to push and fighting it, knowing instinctively that the timing was not yet right. He would just have to put up with me hollering driving instructions in his ear like a banshee. Too bad for him! I thought, unrepentantly.

At one point, there was a police van in front of us, and they were crawling along at no kilometres an hour for some reason. I really wanted to tell the Barn Owl to overtake them by driving on the sidewalk, or maybe even hail them down and get them to escort us to the hospital with siren on and lights flashing. Fortunately, they turned into the McDonald’s before either of us could do anything stupid, and the Barn Owl zipped off towards the hospital, with me clinging onto the door yelling things like “KEEP RIGHT NOW TURN RIGHT I SAID TURN RIGHT NOW NOW NOW!”.

Although the journey to the hospital seemed interminable, we actually made it to the hospital in less than 20 minutes. I gasped my name to the porters and insisted that they tell the labour ward to page the anaesthetist on call straightaway.

The porter practically ran with me in a wheelchair all the way to the labour ward. By this time, I was in a world of pain and I didn’t want to be there anymore.

“Is the anaesthetist on the way?” I croaked at the nurse.

“You have to wait to see the doctor first,” she replied, much too slowly and carefully, wearing a carefully practiced smile meant to pacify unruly patients. I was not to be so easily deterred so I had to do something to make that smile Go Away posthaste.

I put on my best Medusa impression and hissed venomously between my teeth, “Sure, I will see the doctor first, but there is no reason why the anaesthetist cannot be alerted at the same time. Call the anaesthetist NOW, please.”

As soon as I finished speaking, the smile disappeared, the shoulders went up towards the ears and soon after, there was much silent scampering around the room, with the occasional petrified glance at me from time to time as I crouched on the bed feeling like a giant, angry ball of nerve endings.

The junior doctor came round, did a quick check and announced that I was 6cm dilated. She asked me what my pain score was.

“8outof10whenistheanaesthetistcoming?”, I gasped in one breath, frowning at her in between contractions.

The Barn Owl gave me a questioning look.

“I haven’t reached 10 out of 10 yet, and I don’t intend to let it go that far. I’ve had enough of it!” I explained.

There was a little bit of a commotion outside (I later found out that it was my obstetrician berating the junior doctor for withholding the epidural and delaying the call the anaesthetist), and a moment later, the anaesthetist scurried in accompanied by a bevy of nurses and all of them with their shoulders up around their ears. After reading out the bill of rights to me, she deftly flicked the epidural in. As the icy coldness of the anaesthesia trickled down into my legs, the crushing pain and pressure eased off to a dull backache. We all heaved a collective sigh of relief and all the shoulders in the room immediately relaxed.

My obstetrician popped into the room. “Four of my patients have turned up at the same time!” she exclaimed, “It’s a madhouse out there! How are you feeling now? More relaxed? Good, good. Just take some time to enjoy the epidural and we’ll be back in an hour to rupture the membranes, pop the water bag and see if we get things moving quickly. Okay see you later bye!”

She left the room, but before the door had even fully closed behind her, there was an almighty…

PIAK!

and a…

GLOOOOSH!

My water bag had burst with such force, the liquor sprayed out the bottom of the bed and my belly collapsed by a third. The Barn Owl and I started laughing. It sounded exactly like how a water balloon would sound if you chucked it against the wall. The Barn Owl quickly stuck his head out of the room and told the obstetrician what had happened.

She popped back into the room, took one look at the bespattered bed, and exclaimed, “Oh gosh, that looks like it was rather explosive! Well, looks like things will be moving along rather quickly! I’ll let the nurses tidy things up and I’ll be back in half an hour and perhaps you might be ready to do a bit of pushing by then.”

The nurse helped me move around the bed whilst she changed the sheets. The anaesthetist had very wisely given a slightly lighter dose, as she knew that labour would progress very quickly for me. So although I wasn’t in any pain, I could still tell when the contractions were by a vague tingling sensation in my lower back and I had fairly decent control over my legs and lower body.

This made things much easier than in my first two childbirth experiences when I had to imagine myself pushing and place my trust in the phrase ‘mind over matter’. I could engage my muscles without feeling any pain and that took away most of the stress and anxiety that I was feeling.

When the obstetrician breezed back in, she had me lie down on my left side as Thumper was not optimally positioned for labour even though his head was engaged. She was hoping that his head and body would turn as he progressed slowly down the birth canal so that he would be facing the right direction (i.e. facing my spine).

I had been pushing quite well for about 15 minutes and my obstetrician had just turned around to reach for something on the trolley behind her when there was an almighty…

POP!!!!

Out shot Thumper, as if he had been fired from a cannon!

“AIYAH!” exclaimed the midwife, reaching out like lightning to slap her hand to the side of his head, pressing it against my thigh to stop him from slithering over the end of the bed into the steel bucket.

“Oh GOSH!” exclaimed my obstetrician as she quickly gathered him up in her arms. He was wrapped up in his umbilical cord like an egyptian mummy.

“…..” said Thumper, opening his eyes and surveying the room with an expression of acute distaste, lips tightly pursed.

The midwife picked Thumper up by one of his ankles, dangling him unceremoniously in the air. We all watched in fascination as the umbilical cord unwound itself from his body.

“….” said Thumper, blinking and looking thoroughly disgusted by the whole situation. He opened his mouth, thought the better of it, and closed it again.

“Oh GOSH!” exclaimed my obstetrician as Thumper slowly turned increasingly more purple with anger and lack of oxygen.

The midwife, still holding Thumper as if he were a plucked chicken, shook him up and down a little bit to disentangle the cord a little bit faster. The cord unwound itself from the baby but somehow the midwife and I both got tangled up in it. We all seemed to be festooned in never-ending loops of umbilical cord. My obstetrician quickly clamped the cord and the Barn Owl cut it, freeing Thumper who was immediately whisked away by the nurse. The nurse began vigorously rubbing him down with a towel to stimulate him and get him breathing.

“YAAARRGGGHHHHHH!!!!!” screamed Thumper loudly and indignantly, flailing his arms and legs in protest at the midwife. He quickly turned a healthy looking shade of red, then stopped screaming and mumbled irritably to himself.

Meanwhile, my obstetrician was still busy delivering the rest of the umbilical cord like a magician pulling ribbons out of a hat. “Oh GOSH,” she mutters to herself. There seemed to be yards of it and it was getting tangled everywhere but she managed to deliver the rest of the cord and the placenta.

Before I know it, Thumper is finally placed in my arms.

Thumper gives a fist bump

This post is part of the ‘Birth Stories’ Blog Train hosted right here on Owls Well!

To read other exciting birth stories please click on the picture below.

If you would like to travel to the previous stops on this Blog Train and read more interesting birth stories, you can start with this one here by Karen over at Mum’s Calling.

Karen is a mum to 2 wonderful children who muses over at Mum’s Calling. She believes it is almost every woman’s calling to be a Mum.

While fulfilling hers, she finds the journey truly rewarding and enjoyable. She is convinced that Motherhood is life changing and full of surprises.

At next week’s stop we will be visiting May at A Million Little Echoes.

May is a Stay-At-Home Mom of two little ones. She survived two complicated pregnancies and while each time, she announced with conviction that that will be the last, she wanted more!

Head over to her blog next Tuesday (27 Oct 2015) when May’s husband, The Daddy, takes over as guest blogger for this special series and recounts his fears and worries over the births of their children and the dangers that entailed over each.

Birth Stories: Little E makes a big entrance (or, Labour – True or False?)

So about 10 days before Little E came, there was a little bit of fanfare. A trial run, if you will. I woke up in the morning, having strong and regular contractions, so the Barn Owl brought me into hospital.

By the time I reached the hospital, the contractions – although still coming regularly – seemed to have eased off in strength. A quick check by the doctor showed that my cervix had already dilated by 2 cm. So they kept me in hospital and had me walking around to see if anything was happening.

But nothing happened.

In fact, the contractions stopped altogether.

By the evening, I was feeling like a complete fraud so I asked my obstetrician if I could just go home. She did a brief check (I was still 2 cm dilated) but she decided the contractions had stopped and didn’t seem to be coming back, it wasn’t worth forcing the issue. So she booked me in for an appointment on the following Monday and said, laughing, ‘You’ll probably be in here again before then – but don’t forget that I’m away this weekend!’

Well, the following Monday arrived, and I was still the same. Still pregnant. Still tired.

At my doctor’s appointment, the obstetrician checked me over and…lo and behold, I was still 2 cm dilated. “We can’t have you walking around with a 2cm dilation forever,” mused my obstetrician.

I agreed with her. I was getting rather alarmed by the enormous size of my belly which was starting to extend beyond my arms’ reach. Soon I would need an extendable brush to scrub my tummy in the bath.

I had also been having a lot of difficulty walking. The ligaments in my body were naturally softening to allow the rigid pelvic bones to move apart and make space for the baby during labour. However, combined with the excessive pressure of my burgeoning belly, I began to experience what is known as ‘symphysis pubis dysfunction’, that is, the two halves of my pelvic bones would grate and grind horribly against each other whenever I moved, and occasionally, I would get a sciatic pain which would shoot down the back of my leg like lightning. I was reduced to shuffling my feet in order to get around.

Additionally, my skin was getting so problematic that I was starting to develop some form of ‘Princess and the Pea’ type sensitivity. Even the softest silken comforter and smoothest cotton sateen bedsheet felt terribly rough and scratchy, like lying on steel wool. I was up at stupid o’clock every night, tossing and turning (or rather, rolling around like a dugong on the beach), just trying to get comfortable.

I WANTED THE BABY OUT. NOW.

My obstetrician nodded sympathetically. “Let’s schedule you for an induction of labour for the morning of your estimated due date, ok?” she said, “But hopefully you will go into labour naturally before then.”

I looked at the calendar. That was a week away. Fine, fine, fine, fine, FINE. I can be patient.

A week passed and it was the day. THE DAY. The day of the estimated date of delivery!

At breakfast, The Barn Owl looked at me expectantly. I shook my head and waved goodbye to him as he headed off to work.

By this time, I’d started talking to Little E, as if cajoling her would help move things along. There’s sunshine and butterflies here, I said, coaxingly.

No response.

I really didn’t want to have to undergo an induction, I pleaded, come out soon.

No response.

YOU COME OUT HERE RIGHT NOW YOUNG LADY OR SO HELP ME WE WILL GO IN THERE AND DRAG YOU OUT!

I felt the faintest hint of a backache. Was it…? It went away again. Oh nope, it’s coming back, stronger this time.

Very soon, I was having moderate contractions every ten minutes or so. I called the Barn Owl up on his mobile phone.

The Barn Owl was skeptical. After all, he’d been duped once already. “YES IT IS REAL NOW MEET ME AT THE HOSPITAL”, I said firmly, trying my best not to screech.

Then, I waddled to the study, where the Aged P was hanging out.

“Mum, I say, Mum, I’m having contractions. Could you take me to the hospital?”

The Aged P jumped three feet in the air, and started pacing around the room. “Now? Now? But what about the Barn Owl?” she squeaked in alarm.

“He’s turning the car around and going straight to the hospital and he’ll meet us there.”

The Aged P stared at me blankly. She paced the room a few more times, muttering “okokok” to herself. Then, inexplicably, she headed to the kitchen and started washing vegetables.

“Mum, I say, Mum, what are you doing? I have to get to the hospital!”

The Aged P appeared to be in some sort of a daze. At the sound of my voice, she dropped half the vegetables in the sink with a start. She walked out of the kitchen still holding a wad of bok choy, then walked back in and put them back in the fridge. She then wandered off to the bathroom to wash her hands. Looking in the mirror, she suddenly said, “I need to do my hair. Do I have time to have a shower?”

By this time, I was starting to get Real Pain. By which, I mean about 7/10 on my personal pain scale. Terrible, but barely tolerable. “I don’t know! I think you should take me now, nobody is going to see you, you can just drop me off and go home.” I said through gritted teeth.

The Aged P was taken aback. “I can’t leave you alone in your condition! You’re about to have a baby!”

“I know! We gotta go now, though. The Barn Owl will probably already be there and you can leave me with him, it’s going to be ok!”

The Aged P seemed somewhat shell-shocked but she grabbed her keys and off we went.

As we pulled up to the hospital, we saw the Barn Owl’s car turning into the carpark, so mum rang him on her mobile and told him that I was heading to the labour ward.

“Are you sure you’re going to be ok?”, the Aged P said, “You’re starting to sweat.”

“No, you go on home, Mum, I’m a bit nauseous but I’m going to be fine.”

After fussing around me for a little bit longer, the Aged P seemed unconvinced, but she reluctantly said goodbye and let the porters wheel me away to the labour ward.

“Drive safely!!!” I hollered after her retreating figure.

In the labour ward, the doctor did a check. “You’re at 2cm,” she announced cheerfully.

“2cm STILL?” I exclaimed, incredulously, “I’ve been at this all morning!”

The Barn Owl took this moment to saunter into the room. “Where have you been?” I panted, another contraction hitting me like a wave.

The Barn Owl started. So did I. My voice seemed very loud.

“I’ve just been parking the car,” he said, frowning and looking at me worriedly, “Are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine. Just great.” I said, forcing the words out and trying to form a smile.

The Barn Owl grimaced and brought a hand up to his ear.

Hm. Was I shouting? I must try and be more controlled. WHOA HERE COMES THE PAIN AGAIN.

The doctor, who seemed to have gone into a trance, suddenly interrupted our friendly exchange. “Do you want any pain relief? Some gas, maybe?” she asked brightly.

“No, I’m feeling quite nauseous so gas isn’t going to work for me. I’d like an epidural please.” I tried to whisper, but the words seemed to come out like a shriek.

The doctor retreated and returned after what seemed to be an interminable period of time but was probably only 15 minutes. She was accompanied by the anaesthetist who appeared to do everything in slow motion.

Please. Get. On. With. It! I thought to myself, gritting my teeth and breathing through the pain.

Again, the epidural kicked in and suddenly the irritating buzzing noises in my head went away, the sun came out, the birds started singing, and the Barn Owl looked at me and said, “Epidurals are great. You should have one ALL THE TIME. You were barking at everyone and being so mean.”

“What? I was not! I said ‘please’! I was being polite!”, I protested.

“You were getting louder and louder!” laughed the Barn Owl, “You were frightening the nurses! They were huddled in the corner outside the room when I arrived.”

“Was I? I was trying not to be loud. I had to force the words out in between contractions!” I protested.

Now that the pain had gone away, I lay back on the bed and tried to rest. All too soon, an hour passed, and the doctor returned on her rounds.

“Do you feel the urge to push?”, she asked.

“I’m not feeling much of anything, really.” I said, still in a state of eternal bliss.

“I think you can try pushing now.” she advised.

So I did.

After about 50 minutes of pushing, I was started to get irritated. WHY isn’t the baby coming out? After all, everyone I knew had been telling me that labour would be much easier the second time round. “This is not EASIER!”, I grumbled.

“The baby isn’t positioned optimally in the midline. She’s all squashed up, lying in a ‘Z’ shape.” said the Barn Owl, “Everytime you push, she’s getting compressed like an accordion instead of moving down. You can see it.”

“I think she has a shoulder stuck,” I complained, “Whenever I push, I feel a knobbly bit digging into the right side of my pelvis.”

The midwife and the doctor gave me a sharp look when I said that. I knew that in their mind they were thinking about the worst case scenario – that the baby would experience shoulder dystocia as a result and permanent shoulder damage.

The midwife had been pushing on one side of my abdomen with each contraction, unsuccessfully trying to shove the baby’s knees into the midline, but now she called for help from two other midwives. One of them started pushing on other side of my abdomen to try and get the baby out of the ‘Z’ shape, whilst the other put pressure on the right side of my pelvis to push the baby’s shoulder away.

A few more unsuccessful pushes later, the doctor turned to me. “I think we might have to consider an episiotomy,” she said to me, in between pushes.

“Ok, I’m considering it!!” I said with gritted teeth, as the contractions started again. I held my breath and pushed, with the three midwives pushing on my abdomen.

THUNK.

My tummy suddenly disappeared like a collapsing balloon, the trio of midwives nearly falling over me in the process.

“YIKES!”, cried the midwives.

“YIKES!”, exclaimed my doctor, as she caught Little E and flipped her onto my chest, “Incredible! She’s VERY big!”

The Barn Owl and I looked at the baby in amazement. At 4.1kg, she certainly looked very large. And surprisingly clean and pink, for a newborn baby.

“Hello, baby”, I said, as Little E opened her eyes and looked back at us.

“Waa,” Little E offered, laconically, waving her little hand royally at all of us, “Waa.”

As an afterthought, she quietly emptied her bladder on the blanket before latching on for her first breastfeed, much to the amusement of everyone present.

One Hour Old Little E discovers her finger and her eye

This post is part of the ‘Birth Stories’ Blog Train hosted by Owls Well. To read other exciting birth stories please click on the picture below.

If you would like to travel to the previous stops on this Blog Train and read more interesting birth stories, you can start with this one here by Mary over at Simply Lambchops.

Mary and her 4 lambs

Mary has not one, not two but three little lambs and one big lamb.

She writes at Simply Lambchops – her little online space to preserve precious memories of her children, and reflections on Down Syndrome through stories of her littlest one.

I am always amazed and inspired by her strength and resilience which is reflected in the spirit of all her lovely children! It is amazing to see how the whole family rallies together to love and protect little K, who has Down Syndrome, and to cheer her on for every achievement and milestone.

The lovely Yann

At next week’s stop we will be visiting Yann over at Bubsicles.

Yann is a mother to two little men who, unfortunately, believe strongly that sleep is for the weak. Therefore, she sleeps too little (for her liking) and drinks too much teh-si. She suffers from Acute Mother Guiltilitis and is also addicted to writing and photography.

I love perusing Yann’s writings which are always accompanied by the most beautiful photographs! She has such a great eye.

Birth Stories: A Blog Train Hosted By Owls Well

Everybody has a different experience during those last few weeks of pregnancy and the during the birth process. For some, it involves carefully planning a C-section with a doctor beforehand, for others it involves inviting a birth coach into the labour ward to perform hypnotherapy, but in every case it is an exciting time for all, culminating in the first anxieties and joys of parenthood.

One thing that stands out to me is that no pregnancy or childbirth will ever follow a clinical textbook description nor even the dramatised versions of it on TV or in the movies. The experience of childbirth is unique to every parent and it’s interesting to see how people cope with the birthing process – especially when things do not go exactly as planned!

Each week on this blog train, we will be visiting some of my favourite bloggers-who-are-parents who will be telling us about their birth stories. I hope you will enjoy the journey with me!

(Links on this page will be updated as each post goes live)

11 August

Owls Well: Here Comes J (or, when to get that Epidural)

18 August

Simply Lambchops: The Birth of K (or, I did it without Epidural)

25 August

 Owls Well : Little E makes a big entrance (or, Labour – True or False?)

1 September

Bubsicles : Aidan’s birth, 3.5 years on

8 September

Life in the Wee Hours : David’s Birth Story told by Daddy

15 September

Tan Family Chronicles : The Birth of Isaac The First

16 September:

Tan Family Chronicles : The Birth Story of the Twins, Asher & Shawna

22 September

Mum in the Making : Thankful Tuesday:First Birth

29 September

Life Is In The Small Things : Noey’s Birth Story – Seven Years On

6 October

Mummy Wee : Birth Stories of My 6 Children

13 October

Mum’s Calling : The First Birth

20 October

Owls Well : Thumper pops in (or, Serving an eviction notice written in Raspberry Leaf Tea)

27 October

A Million Little Echos : Birth Stories By Daddy:Ewan and Faye

3 November

A Pancake Princess : David

10 November

Meeningfully : Jonas’ birth story – an overdue post

17 November

Sanses : Birth Story Revisited

24 November

Sengkang Babies : We Planned For 2 Kids but Ended Up With 4

8 December

Mummy Chuck : Jaden’s Birth Story 

15 December

The Chill Mom : 24 Things I Wish I Knew About Childbirth and Postpartum Recovery

22 December

The “Perfect” Father : Our (Last) Birth Story

29 December

PrayerFull Mum : Christmas Delivery

5 Jan 2016

Don’t Put All Your Diapers Into One Diaper Bag : The last time the oven bell dinged