Thinking back, it was a fast and yet slow, but slow and yet fast journey... with the little boy inside me, someone who shares the same blood with me. Life is amazing, isn't it? From a little 2cm egg-look alike dot from the first scan, it grew and grew, and Tadah! Every single visit to the gynae, I will smile silly to myself while looking at my little precious on that black and white monitor screen.
Luckily for me, my 1st trimester wasn't as bad as others have described, other than the fatigue that I've faced and the occasional blackouts in the train, at least I didn't have to hug the toilet bowl to sleep. My vomit times was less than 10 in the 1st trimester, unless I've eaten something that I didn't really feel like eating, then the Merlion show will proudly present itself. :)
Now that I thought back, I don't know what gut did I have, to travel to Europe when my baby was only so so young. The 14 hour flight, the Switzerland alpes with high altitudes, the super winter chill at (-) temperature and the French cuisine. Totally out of our minds to continue with our trip, although the gynae had authorized us to do so. The traumatized moment when I black out on one of the alps, I vomited like hell, sat on the toilet and prayed to God aloud, that my little baby be safe and strong. I was near to tears, I wanted my baby to be safe so so badly. Another frightful moment has got to be the awful weather when we were on the flight, and the plane was rocking, like a ship in the choppy waters! My stomach felt like it was in my mouth and I was holding on to the hubby's hand so tightly. Prayed really hard. It lasted for quite a while. :( As I spoke to my little one to calm him down, I was actually very worried to myself. After all, we reached home safely.
It was a beautiful trip, the hubby made milk for us every morning, just to ensure baby has all the nutrients he would need from the milk! I think that was the part I missed most, coz after we were back in SG, no more milk by him. Bah!
As we moved on, my belly gets bigger and bigger. When I was 4 months, my belly was showing already. Everyone close to me was so surprised, then they started comparing me with "those others" with smaller bellies. But i love my belly, meaning my baby is growing bigger. So long as my baby is healthy and growing, I don't really care much about other thing.
Second trimester was a breeze. Hmm.. I didn't have much of those late night craving, nor those non-sensical tantrums which preggy have privileges to. I was happy and hyper and still childish, in a way. And I don't want to lose that kiddy side of me.
And then we were deciding the names between Maximus and Manfred. Maximus came from the Dad, which means "The Greatest". I didn't wanted my son to be too arrogant, so I picked up Manfred. Manfred represents "Man of peace and Strength" and I really loved the meaning of that. Life has its ups and downs, and I hope my son can conquer them with his inner peace, and with the strength of his own or together with others. I'm quite on for this name, unless another name better comes along in these 2 months.
All was good until I had got stomach pain and was admitted during my last week of the 2nd trimester. When I was at KKH, the doctor said I was having contractions, but it wasn't ideal for me to give birth yet as Manfred was only 26 weeks. I was given the orange pills to stop the contractions and jabs on the thighs to develop Manfred's lungs faster, just in case he couldn't wait. The jab contains steroid, cool eh? Maybe next time Manfred can run 2.4km with no sweat. :P KKH had no more room for me, so I was transferred back to Mt Alvernia, where my gyane is. It was my ever first hospital stay. I thought my virgin stay would be when Manfred says hi to the world. The hubby was the greatest during that one week period. He rushed to visit us in the morning before he goes work and after work. I believe it was shag out for him. I am very proud of him, I'm sure Manfred is too!
Ending 2nd trimester, then I realized my SRETCHMARKS on the belly, on 2 sides, like trees growing taller and taller. I would love to think that Scretchmarks are the most beautiful scars for a woman, it marks her valuable hardship on bearing a little Life. But well, women being women on the vanity side... it could be very depressing. Thoughts like how would the Father of the kid think of those never ending lines on the belly, and stuff like that. I am trying to think of the positive side, thou.
Just stepped into my early 3rd trimester, 77 days to go before I will miss all the kicking, hiccuping, and boxing taking action in my belly everyday, especially when I am cosily in bed, he doesn't want to say good-night yet.
The first problem I face now, in the last trimester, must be the constipation! The sight of the blood in the toilet bowl is still haunting me now. I guess I need prune juice and Vitagen like immediate now. :(
Just now I tried on the toilet bowl again, never had I sweated so much while poop-ing. Painful and sweaty. And then i dare not push anymore, i stopped, with half of the business undone. It feels so uncomfortable! I am still thinking what am I going to do now...
77 days.. I hope Manfred will be safe and my constipation will be cured.
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