13 June 2016, Sunday 6am.

I woke up at my bladder's command; something I had grown accustomed to at this hour.

As usual, I fumbled my way to the toilet in a zombie-fied state. As usual, I sleepily patted the kitty who was sleeping on the sink in the darkness while I eased down onto the toilet bowl.

Not as usual, I felt something slippery and lumpy slither out of me at the end of my piss. I jerked awake. The Mucus Plug! I flipped on the light switch and examined the contents. Sure enough, there was a lump of blood in the toilet bowl, and some bloody discharge.

I groaned. It was Sunday very morning, and I am still asleep. 2 days ago on Friday, we had set an appointment with Dr Jerry Chan to check into the hospital for induction on 16 June if I was still pregnant by then. I had fully (ok half) expected to enjoy one last weekend and to finish up my work over the next few days before the delivery.

I went back to bed. This was way too early in the morning for me. I tried to will myself back to sleep. I'll deal with this in the morning.

But baby wasn't giving up. 10 minutes later, the contractions started. And the cat meowed at that exact moment. The cat never meows at that hour. The cat knows.

These contractions were different from the Braxton Hicks that had been plaguing me for the past month or so. These contractions were like some of the worst period cramps I had, and they were spaced about 10 minutes apart.

I looked over at hubby who was starting to stir from my restlessness on the bed.

"Are you awake?"
"Why?"
"I think it's today."

Hubby shot up.

"Really? Do we go hospital now?"
"... Let's wait for a bit."

So we started to prepare. I had a long good shower, and a breakfast of soya bean and Youtiao. The contractions were still bearable, so I opened up my laptop and tried to finish up some work. By noon, the pain had gotten worse. When the cramps came, I would be rendered slightly immobile. So we drove to the hospital.

I was curiously calm about the impending labour. There was no panic, no overt excitement or anxiety. We even had Mcdonald's for lunch before proceeding to the Triage for examination.

1:30pm, I was determined to be in early labour. But my cervix was still not open. The house officer says active labour could be as early as a few hours, or as long as a few days. I was given the choice to get warded and wait, or go home and wait. I chose to go home.


The Active Labour

We took a good nap when we reached home with kitty curled at our feet. Something we were so glad that we did later on.

By evening, the contractions started to get worse and closer together. It was around 7-8pm after dinner with my parents when we returned to the hospital. By this time, I had been rendered immobile by the contraction and Hubby now had to send me back up to the delivery suite in a wheelchair.

The pain now felt like the past 9 months' worth of period cramps returned to me all at once on a jumbo platter.

In the delivery suite, they announced I was 3-4cm dilated and in active labour. I demanded the epidural, which they promised will be given immediately, like, now. So apparently, "immediate" and "now" in KKH was more than an hour later. I had to make do with the ridiculously non-existent placebo effect of the laughing gas in the meantime. The laughing gas was really an unfunny joke. It didn't work at all, and it made me want to throw up.

When the anaesthetist finally arrived with my epidural, I was close to tears from the pain. But I have to say, the relief was heavenly. I cannot imagine how it is like to deliver without the pain relief.

The nurses injected oxytocin to speed up the contractions. It was my first birth, and everyone was confident that I would have to wait till at least 6-8am before I would be fully dilated.

It was now 11:30pm. I as 6cm dilated. I could hardly feel my left leg due to the epidural, but the contraction pain was starting to creep into my right bum. I told the resident doctor so, and she in turn got the anaesthetist to prepare for an epidural top up because "it's going to be a long night".

So I received the top up and all feeling around my waist to bum was gone and all while the doctor and nurses monitored baby's heartbeat and my contractions with concern.

12am. The resident doctor decided to check my dilation again. And surprise! I was fully dilated at 10cm, with the baby rapidly descending! The room came alive. The nurses were excited that they didn't have to camp out here with me the entire night after all. Dr Jerry Chan was informed and he was probably cursing about the strange hour.

Now this was 5 minutes after I had the epidural top up when the nurses started to demand I push. I couldn't feel anything at all. I had to use my memory of my worst constipation to abstractly push. And I promptly vomited after my first try.

I had also started to shiver and shake like nobody's business even though I got increasingly warm. Just some side effects of the epidural no one told me about.

And so began the more than 2 hours of pushing, shaking, and vomiting. I got a few minutes' break after every episode of heaving while using my intensely shaking hands to hold up my stone weight legs. And the oxytocin made me feel so drowsy that I had to struggle with all my might to keep my eyes open in between the pushing.


The Delivery

The signal to push started before I could vocalize that.

As promised, this was the last push. I watched as the good doctor pulled out this miniature human. He was limp and wet and bloody. 2 seconds later, the miniature human came alive with a wail. Dr Chan did a very quick wipe down of the baby, flipped the baby around and skilfully placed him on my chest. The wailing naked baby shivered in uncertainty. His blood stained my arms and chest while he snuggled on my breast. The wailing died down and his little hands sought comfort and security on my skin.

I looked at him in amazement and uttered my first words to my son: "Hello."

Not the most inspired thing to say, I know. But I was so overwhelmed. Nothing I've ever read; there is no literature out there, that can concisely capture the moment when a first time mom sees her child being dragged out of her and prepare her for this feeling of awe, relief, anxiety (is baby healthy?) and wonderment.

I was awash with fatigue, but I couldn't take my eyes off him. So innocent. So sinless. So vulnerable. So helpless. This little being that just a few hours ago, was hiccupping in my tummy while squeezing into his favorite spot under my left rack of ribs.

After all that has happened, after all the ordeal since last year, I finally met my son.

I have finally graduated to be a mother.