They say third time's the charm and hopefully that is the case with Finn. He arrived on an early Wednesday morning on 26 October just as the sun rose to greet the day. Finn was born shortly into the 37th week of my pregnancy, around seven days earlier than his two older brothers. Weighing 3.12 kg, he is the lightest of all my three children.
Finn's arrival had caught us by surprise. He was not due till 13 November but there had been signs that he might arrive earlier. I had complained to my mother in law about swollen feet a week before his birth. "It looks like you might give birth soon," she said knowingly. How right she was.
I still remember vividly the night before Finn's birth. I was in the office till late having stayed back to take a conference call. I had meetings set up for the rest of the week and some work to clear before I was due to go on leave at the end of October. Of course, all that did not materialise after waking up at around 3 am in the morning with stomach cramps and realising that I was bleeding.
After that, everything unfolded rapidly. Hubby D and I sped off to the hospital. In the car, silence hung between us, an unspoken mix of worry and anticipation. Nine years ago, we too had set off in the wee hours of the morning to the hospital. At that time, I was pregnant with my firstborn Kieran and my water bag had burst, an indication I might soon go into labour. This time round, the cramps and bleeding were new to me. The bleeding, in particular, was worrying.
After I checked into the labour ward, the nurse on duty said I was experiencing contractions and there was a good chance Finn would be born that day, requiring an emergency c-section. The contractions came in waves -- the closest I would ever get to labour pains -- and I summoned whatever breathing techniques I could still vaguely remember.
In the operating theatre, my gynae was his usual jovial self. I had a new anaesthetist CK Lim as the other guy who did the spinal on the previous two occasions was not available. I told Dr Lim I had a splitting headache during the last op as I was given an injection because my blood pressure was low. "We'll try and avoid that this time round," he said reassuringly.
Soon enough, we heard the cries of our baby boy whom we cradled in our arms as we took a family picture together. Although we were not first time parents, it still felt special finally meeting Finn. Like both his brothers, he came into the world with an energetic cry.
Giving birth is just the beginning. For the last few weeks, the days have gone by in a blink of an eye. Finn, like my other two boys, stayed another day in the hospital as he was jaundiced. It didn't feel good coming home without Finn and going back to the hospital to nurse him reminded me of how we had spent a lot of the time at the hospital when Eli was born.
Unlike his older two brothers, Finn has learnt to latch on well. Nursing Finn and establishing the milk supply consumes most of my days and nights. From being so used to multi-tasking, I'm now singlemindedly focused on producing milk. The change in routine feels almost surreal at times. Wake up, nurse, meals, nurse/pump, try and get some rest, nurse again...
You worry about this tiny fragile being. Is he getting enough milk and putting on weight? You watch him sleep and touch his face just to make sure that he is breathing. You are sleep derived but miraculously can still function despite interrupted rest night after night. You celebrate after successfully pumping a decent amount of milk.
You hope to be the best mother you can be to your child although you are fully aware of how imperfect you are. There are good days but also difficult ones when you are overwhelmed by a complex mix of emotions.
And then there are the unforgettable moments. When he turns at the sound of your voice and smiles. When you hold his tiny newborn hand and marvel at the firmness of his grasp. You gaze in wonder at the tiny being you have created and how he looks different from day to day. You imagine the little boy he will be and the man he will eventually become.
I'm a mother thrice over but each birth experience has been unique. "You must be seasoned by now," a colleague said to me. I had laughed then. No one can be fully prepared for motherhood. What I've learnt through the years is to ride the wave of ups and downs and that all things eventually do pass.
