End of Confinement

Today marks the 40th day of my confinement.

I had chicken rice (without chilli) for lunch - the first non-confinement food after my confinement.

I haven't got the time to upload the photos of the baby. I felt weak and tired for most of the forty days, and I had this bone-gnawing backache when I stand or sit for just a mere 10 mins. I was afraid that it might last for the rest of my life, but I listened to my mother's advice and tried to rest whenever I can and it feels better now. It has to go away. If not I don't know how I'm going to survive with the backache. I used to think that it's just figurative when people use the four-character phrase 'yao suan bei tong'. But when I bent over to wash my hair on my 30th day of confinement, my waist was so sore I almost fell over. I groped desperately for the tap in order to get my balance. And when I sat for a few hours watching TV, I found myself with a literal aching back. It's literally painful on the upper part of my back.

It's scary. I didn't have such experiences when I had Coco. I didn't know what backache actually means. Now I can totally appreciate the gravity and totality of the phrase.

He said that he didn't bet

These are the websites he goes to, just last night:

http://www.soccerpunter.com/livescore2.php
http://www.soccerway.com/
http://www.soccerPUNTER.COM/
http://www.singaporepools.com.sg/en/sports/1x2.html
http://www.soccerway.com/national/korea-republic/first
http://www.singaporepools.com.sg/en/html/index.html

I've given up on this marriage. Infidelity comes in many forms. He goes back on his vows and attacks me when I'm at my most vulnerable - during my pregnancy and confinement. I don't see why I have to keep mine.

On top of that, he seems to resent the fact that I'm in confinement. He says that I'm awaiting death when I'm still weak from the op.

A drama serial on Channel 8 showed a man who lives off his prospective wife and feels that there's nothing wrong with it. The things he says and his attitudes towards marriage and the woman he claims he loves are a reflection of my own marriage and William.

I find it such a mockery. I've been holding on to this f-up marriage for the sake of my values and vows when they mean nothing to him. 'Marriage is a sacred institution' - he claimed. But I don't see that in practice. They are right when they say that he was just saying things that made me happy.

I want freedom. I haven't thought about what to do with the baby yet. But I will leave him. Even if I don't leave him, I will make myself happy by going with how I feel. There's no reason for me to restrain myself, control my emotions or feelings for the sake of a bastard anymore.

TMC - the greatest hospital on Earth

I've been back from the hospital for almost two weeks now.

It's been a pleasant and wonderful experience staying at Thomson Medical Centre. I was treated humanely there. The nurses were careful not to inflict any pain on you. If there's supposed to be the tiniest bit of pain, they made it pain-free ie. like the removal of the drip from the hand. They warned you of any possible pain ie. the removal of the catheter - the nurse asked me to take a deep breath before pulling it out. It's totally unlike KK where they just come over to you and say,"I'm going to remove the drip and tubes from you." and pull out everything without a word like you're immune to pain.

Sure I've been through a huge amount of pain without screaming like a pig led to the slaughter, but it doesn't mean I'm devoid of physical feeling.

The only bad thing that comes out of this C-section with epidural experience is that I suffer the full effects of epidural. I got the tremors, the urge to vomit, and now the backache. I'm really worried that the backache is here to stay. I've been trying to rest for as much as I can in order to get healed from the backache.

I'm disappointed that William is not about to change, not even for the sake of the baby. He's still up at 1am to check out his soccer betting and lottery websites. I don't want the children to have a gambler for a father. I don't want to spend the rest of my life with a gambler. Much as I've been warned, and much as I've been restraining myself, tears still wet my eyes whenever I think about where this marriage is going. I can't allow myself to rot with a gambler for the sake of a baby. Perhaps a baby is precisely God's sign for me to leave the marriage. As I recall, I only had the courage to get out of my previous empty marriage after I had Coco because I woke up to my senses that I could not allow Coco to see that boy as a role model for a father or a husband.

Perhaps it's God's will that I stayed at a two-bedder at TMC, that I got a neighbour who was so outspoken. We spoke alot despite our brief meeting in that 1 or 2 days' stay together. It made me realise that I've been living in a small world of my own, that I've been focusing on the wrong things to be in this rotting marriage.

She told me about her younger sister who divorced her husband and left her 3-month-old baby after a 3-year marriage for a gambler of a boyfriend. It sort of 'inspired' me. The younger sister had been having marital problems over allowance and her mother-in-law. The marriage ended after the younger sister consented to an immediate divorce on the ground of 'adultery'. After some time, she left this gambler of a boyfriend after she found a much richer boyfriend who loved her so much that he transferred $50, 000 to her bank account. I can't even get a $50 note from William without him asking why I need it. You know what they say about the willingness to part with money as a measure of your love for that somebody? They're right. And Fann Wong once said that a man who is stingy with money is also stingy with love. And she's so darn right. Who says that she's an airhead? She's probably one of the smartest women in Singapore.

To a large extent, I admire this woman for her guts to leave her own flesh and blood in the name of love (and lust I suspect), and her pursuit for happiness as she herself defines.

It makes me realise that I've been focusing too much on what this society wants, and how it looks at me. There're so many people out there who don't bother about how others look at them as long as they are happy. Perhaps I've been too brainwashed by a church I went to since my early teens - 'Others may but I cannot'.

I've asked Pastor Jimmy if it's biblical for me to divorce William since he has not committed adultery or blatantly abandoned us. He said that although William has been 'faithful' in the physical sense, he has not been faithful to his vows he made at the altar ie. to protect and to cherish me.

For so long, I'd thought Pastor Jimmy would oppose to the idea of divorce for whatsoever reasons. For so long, I'd thought I have to endure whatever rubbish William heaps on me.

It's a great relief to know that I'm free to leave this marriage, as long as I want to.

For years, I've pictured myself living in a 3-room flat with Coco. Just me and her. It just might come true soon.

Baby at 37th week

William has been quite good to me recently. He tries to get things done when I ask him to, although not immediately.

So far, he's bought most of the things the baby and I need: bathtub, breastpump, steriliser, powder and powder container. He'd also asked if the baby need more clothes.

Most of the baby's clothes are given by my sister. She gave me some of her unused gift sets. Recently, she also went to Thailand and bought quite a few pieces of baby's clothes and receiving blankets and towels. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to wash up the towels and blankets because there isn't much space to store them in.

He's also trying not to argue with me or agitate me these few days. He washed the service balcony when I asked him to and emptied the dustbin once in 2 to 3 days when I pressed him- previously, he emptied it once a week. I hope these are changes that will last for some time.

For the sake of the baby and seeing his slight changes, I'm starting to pray that he'll have a sense of responsibility towards the baby and the family.

The baby was weighing at 2.5kg at 37th week on Monday. Dr Ang said that she's a 'footling breech', meaning she's a feet-first baby, and so it seems that the baby chooses to come out via c-section. He's booked a c-section slot next Wednesday, 15th October. But I'm hoping that there'll be some natural indication, like the show, or waterbag breaking, to indicate that the baby's ready for birth rather than artificially jump-starting her birth.

I wonder why this baby is taking so long to arrive. Coco came at 37th week. Girls usually come early and second births usually come earlier than the first. Sometimes I wonder if it's because the baby is able to sense my apprehension and reluctance to be a second-time mother, under all the unfavourable circumstances and conditions, that makes her reluctant to arrive. Her breech presentation also makes me wonder if she's trying to tell me that she'll be as good as her elder sister. I remember telling Coco when she was in my womb that I'll leave the way she wants to come to this earth to her - whether natural or caesarean, but secretly, I'd hoped it would be a caesarean since I'm such an easily freaked out person.

Perhaps for Coco, I was highly-strung and stressed due to the unknown. I didn't know anything about going into labour and was sure I was going to die during the delivery. Every day, I was in intense fear and I literally counted down to the days of her impending arrival. Every night, I couldn't sleep till past midnight and I would wake up at 2 or 3am to a male, deep voice telling me,"Your cervix is not going to open! Your cervix is not going to open!" The more I tried to shut the voice out by pressing pillows on my ears, the louder the voice loomed. When I woke up at 7 or 8am, I was usually alone in the house and I was always imagining the worst. And the moment I opened my eyes, I'd hoped that everything's a nightmare - that the pregnancy was never there. I was going through these motions until the waterbag broke and I shivered all the way to the hospital for a c-section.

Those were the most horrible months I'd ever led my whole life. I'm not so scared now in that I know what to expect, and am in full knowledge that the baby will not die so easily.

Instead, I feel very tired every day. I sleep at about 1am and wake up at 11.30am every day. I have to force myself to wake up even.

I've decided not to engage a photographer for maternity shots. I feel very tired all the time and don't feel like dressing up for a photography session, in front of strangers especially. I would also like to save that $200 in my bank account rather than splurge it on a photography session. We have a digicam anyway.

Sourcing for maternity pic photographer

I was enquiring about maternity photography packages from a seemingly passionate photographer via email.

Everything was good - he could offer me a good price and package except that the venue is my own place. I'm not very comfortable with a total stranger coming to my place with his wife. And my place is constantly messy and not visitor-ready. The thought of tidying and cleaning it up makes me feel exhausted already. I've been delaying my reply to him and contemplating another photographer who has a studio, albeit far, and comparatively expensive if I want to take back all pics.

All of a sudden, I am also gripped by a sense of self-consciousness. I didn't think much about being half nude in front of a photographer initially, until the photographer himself made it very explicit that his wife will be around and my husband MUST be around too.

It just made me feel ... self-conscious ... ? And uneasy all of a sudden. I just don't know how to respond anymore.

My maternity leave starts as of yesterday although there's no handover at work to speak of.

I looked at Coco and got worried.

I love her so much.

She's the reason I think life's worth living.

I'm worried that I won't have time for her once the baby arrives.

She was telling my father that I've been very harsh on her and beating her often ever since I got pregnant. I feel guilty about it, but I really don't have the extra energy to run after her, hounding her, and nagging at her for more than 10 times over 1 simple task anymore.

Love vs marriage

Someone created a thread about a working mother's frustration and quite a few mothers posted about their struggles and unhappiness with their husband and marriages. Of course I was one of them.

One mother who read the thread commented that it should be love that makes the marriage go on, and not children.

I've been thinking about what she said.

I've been preoccupied with the idea of sticking with the marriage until I can't take it anymore. I'm resigned to a life that's loveless, passionless and full of shams and cheats. I'm resigned that good men are few and far in between and I'm not one of those girls to meet them.

I was chatting with someone from the chatroom when he commented that he's seen quite a few cases like mine - 'suffering to the max and not smart enough to get a divorce proper'.

I was asking him something about his impending migration to Canada with his girlfriend who he planned to married when he said,"fyi, i love her".

I've been too embroiled with life's struggles and this miserable marriage that I've forgotten that marriage is about love, not only about obligations, responsibilities, children and debts.

I thought about why I'd married William.

I thought about the days I felt very happy with him. I thought about the days we could communicate on the same wavelength, and what he said made sense. I thought about what he said about being able to understand me more than myself. I thought about the time when he wanted to send me home when it was only 9pm. Then I thought about the time when we first got married - he asked me to go buy him supper at 1am.

I ask myself if he really did love me, or was it a plot all along to trick me into a marriage.

But is it really worth me thinking so hard about all these?

When love is no longer there, or perhaps it's never been there, there's nothing to look back on.

The memories of the 'happy times' are fake. If he's really loved me, we won't have such a miserable marriage from the beginning.

I just wanted Coco to have a family. I just wanted her to go to a good school.

I just wanted to place her above me.

There was something that said it's not quite right, but I thought I shouldn't be so selfish. As a mother, my needs should take a backseat.

It's been almost 3 years.

I don't want to remain unhappy for the next few years. Someone said we only live once. We shouldn't waste time dwelling in some worthless mud.

Within 3 years, I've aged much, visibly. This marriage has worn me down, alot. No love. No warmth. Fights. Suspicions. No husbandry to speak of. No fatherhood to speak of. No future. No dream.

I don't want a life like this.

I've tried so hard to stick to my marriage vows. 'In poverty, in sickness'. How novel it sounds! I don't mind poverty really. But this poverty must be worth it. The husband must be worthy. How can you stick to someone who is always in poverty as a result of his foolishness and refuses to acknowledge that he's been imprudent with money? How can you stick to someone who has not fulfilled his responsibilities as a husband and expect you to fulfil your obligations as a wife?

Marriage is not a one-way traffic. Marriage is not a destination. I'd thought William could be the one who journey with me through this life. Life is hard enough.

Stress

I continue to feel exhausted for my pregnancy. It's about 33rd week I believe.

Some people say it's due to stress which I've no reason not to believe. The baby's arriving in just a few weeks' time and nothing's substantial has been done for her. The baby's room is not up. The cot is not bought despite having talked about it since February. My mother, who will be doing confinement for me, hasn't got a bed to sleep on yet. I've asked William to set up a bed and get a mattress for her since ... I don't know ... maybe June? ... and you can trust that nothing will be done either. The baby's stuff has still alot in outstanding. No powder, only two pieces of tops, no diapers, and no nursing bras or tops or pyjamas for me. And all these are the essentials. Oh oh, and he hasn't got the money for my confinement food, or my mother's confinement rates. I've already informed him that he needs to give me $1000 per month from September onwards. I won't ever forgive him if I don't get enough nourishment or nutrition to nurse my health back in shape during confinement. As it is, throughout my pregnancy, his non-existent mother or father didn't even call up to enquire about how I am or the baby's state for fear that we may ask them to help out or ask the mother to cook some nourishing food for me. I'll never forget how horrible his parents are. This is why William hasn't learnt how to be a father, because his parents don't know how to be parents. To think that William is their only son. Come Chinese New Year next year, I'm not going to bring the baby back to their place for the reunion dinner if there ever is one - if I ever go back there for the Dinner again. I might very well give the reason that I'm still weak from childbirth and not in a state to walk about too much, which could be true since I'm so weak and constantly exhausted during my pregnancy. Oh, and William's bank debts. One of them is going to hit $10k in a few months' time and he's still saying it's nothing.

I've posted a thread asking for second-hand Pump-in-style breastpump, and no one has responded.

I don't know what's wrong with married men, or Singaporean Chinese men for that matter. They seem to be such babies after they get married. They just assume that a tooth fairy or some form of supernatural genie would get things done for them somehow, some time, at some place.

A mother from the forum said that the 'thump thump thump' feeling is actually the baby's hiccups. So now I know.

School's reopening. I don't mind the classroom teaching actually, but the thought of CCA really puts me off. I don't understand why CCAs can't start at 1.30pm at the teacher's convenience. I think it's really stupid that we have to suit the kids' convenience and agenda to start at 3.30 pm and end at 5 - 5.30pm. That's like 10 hours of being in school. It makes you feel so sian. Any thing that goes beyond 3.30pm just sucks the life out of you. And you're supposed to be excited and enthusiastic about it. Stupid! Anybody who started the whole idea of CCAs seriously ought to be shot! I don't mind if CCAs are conducted by external vendors or if the teachers don't have other admin work or rubbish to deal with. Teachers' work are just neverending. We pile on and on and on without removing the previous rubbish. It's really stupid! It's the most inefficient job on the face of this Earth.

We have workbooks, so why must we churn out worksheets after worksheets every year and chase after the syllabus like crazy? We don't even have time to complete the workbooks and the homework books or testbooks and we're coming up with more worksheets because the workbooks and homework books and testbooks are not good enough. Crazy! Then throw away the workbooks and homework books and testbooks if you think your 'tailored' worksheets are so much more superior!

For remedial lessons, why must we churn out yet another pile of worksheets to 'suit the students' abilities'? It's really ridiculous!

I know I ought to be grateful for a job, but I can't help but notice the inefficiencies and ineffectiveness of all these nonsensical workload. I don't believe in churning out more work for the teachers if it doesn't improve the students' well-being or academic ability. I believe in teaching. Really teaching. Dwelling on, playing with, drilling a concept until it's mastered. Not skip-and-hop and touch-and-go. Why should teachers rush to complete a syllabus? I think it's hilarious, ludicrous. Why didn't the scholars and researchers at the ministry factor in all the occasions and programmes and exams and tests that teachers need to prepare for, and thus not able to complete the syllabus in that 10 week per term? How can it be so ridiculous that the ministry doesn't know that school doesn't operate on a 10-week term? We always have to cram in 10 weeks of syllabus into a 5 to 6 weeks term, which is really stupid.

Forgive me for my non-linking thoughts. I'm just typing whatever that comes to mind.