I felt a poke in the middle of the night. My eyes opened in a dark cold room. Where was I where was i? As my mind searched memory. Then I remembered. I was in my bedroom. I rolled to my left and looked toward the direction that the poke came from and I saw Shorty sitting up. Her first words were
“Fatty I think my water broke.”
I sat up and got out of bed in the most normal manner. Looking back at my bed after and wondering how I just did that. I would normally get out of bed groggy like a zombie but this time.. wow.
Then as I walked to the washroom I said “We better go to the hospital”.
I put on my shorts and t-shirt and then I looked at myself in the mirror. I had pillow hair that would’ve gotten me cast into Dragon Ball without any major issues. I considered taking a shower and then I remembered that it was 3.10AM. Nobody… nobody is going to be at the hospital. Nobody is going to see me. I can walk in there naked and it wouldn’t even matter.
I’ve seen many movies on how water breaks and what happens after. Normally the pregnant character has her water break creating a scene that looks like a bucket of water just got thrown on to the ground. And then she’s weak and needs help to walk.
This was not the scene at my bedroom. Shorty said the water came out like a stream instead and she casually walked around the bedroom packing a bag to go to the hospital. I offered to help and asked her what she needed. She thought for a while and she said “Make-up…”. Okay I’m glad my wife was still in the condition to joke but not long after I realized it wasn’t a joke. She was serious. She wanted me to bring MAKE-UP because she wanted our future daughter to see her really pretty when she was born (in the end.. Shorty didn’t have the time to put on that make-up).
We went downstairs and hopped into the car. It was going to be a smooth ride to the hospital I’m sure. There was bound to be no cars on the road at 3.30AM… even if it was a Saturday night. Cmon….
I was wrong. KL roads were very very busy. Full of cars looking like they were either going for supper or had just finished clubbing and were going home.
When we got to the hospital the nurses took care of Shorty but told us we would have to wait till the doctor comes in at 7-8AM.
The next morning the doctor came and told us that we had two options now. One is that we could do a natural birth. The best option if successful. However because Shorty did a C-Section the first time round, she was at risk of a scar rupture if she pushed too hard. So the doctor said if the pushing gets too hard she’ll opt for a C-Section anyway.
The natural birth is an always has been the ideal situation for us. There’s less recovery time… but we didn’t get to do it with Fighter because his complicated birth warranted an emergency C-Section.
So we asked the Doctor
If we decided to go natural, how long do you think this might take?
She said
Not sure but if after 10 hours we’re still not there I’ll do a C-Section anyway.
Shorty and I looked at each other and we knew the answer there. The last thing she wanted to do was go through 10 hours of unsuccessful labor only having to go through a C-Section again. So in the end we decided on a C-Section which meant one other thing. Ah hah I didn’t mention this.
The Doctor said that the more C-Sections we have the more dangerous it becomes so she wouldn’t recommend more than 2 kids. I’ve always wanted 4. But seeing how much of a sacrifice Shorty had to make at each pregnancy I decided that I will compromise.
I told Shorty that having another kid is something that we both have to agree on. Not just one of us. So even if I want 4… it’s her body… she has to decide. So no pressure there.
A couple hours or so later we found ourselves in the operating theater. I was holding on to Shorty’s hand and she was awake (but not feeling any of the pain because of the epidural). We waited in anxiety to hear Bump’s cry.
Until finally… I heard it. It was a very very loud cry. So loud that I was surprised such loud sounds could come from such a small baby. The nurses cleaned Bump and brought her over for Shorty to hold. In her arms was the reason that made her sacrifice all these years worth while.
We took a little family photo.
My wife inspired me that day to write this on my Dayre.
Shorty has unintentionally taught me what a sacrifice it is to give birth to a child and how all mothers are heroes. My naive self used to take that for granted. That so many women have kids anyway so it’s almost like an expectation.
But from shorty’s two experiences with giving birth I’ve learned that something expected still need not be something easy.
The fear and the pain that mothers go through. The anxiety of the child growing fine in the whole nine months to that on the day of delivery before they got into an operating theater or a labor ward.
To the pain they go through. From pain of the contractions to the post stitching pain of a c section wound that lasts days.
To the discomfort of morning sickness or having an IV drip or urine catchment bag inserted into you.
Yet mothers do this intentionally. Sometimes more than once. For kids who may or may not turn out to be good to them.
So today. On the birthday of my one and only daughter who will one day be a mother herself. I say that mothers and any woman hoping to be one in spite of the sacrifices are heroes in my eyes.
I will bring up Fighter to learn to appreciate this. And to value any woman he has in his life as such.
Today though. Shorty is my hero. As she lay down to sleep in front of me with fresh stitching on her womb I remind myself how she sacrificed her body and soul to give us this little family of ours.
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This is the new addition to our family. My one and only daughter…
Penelope Tiah.
Timothy Tiah – Co-Founder of Colony, Kuala Lumpur Co-Working Space