Monday, March 28, 2005
My dearest daughter Alix
You are 2 months old. 8 weeks ago, mommy was brought into the operating theatre at the Singapore General Hospital for a planned caesarean section. I had hoped for a natural delivery. However, the scan at 38 weeks showed that you were large – your growth had spiked in the last 3 months of my pregnancy and your abdominal circumference was off the growth charts. The doctor advised that having you by c-section would be safer for both of us.
The doctor wanted to schedule the c-section on 24 January. But I wanted it a week later for two reasons i) I wanted your birthday to be closer to Shane’s ii) I felt that I had to get more prepared.
There was a lot that was still undone. Mostly with the house. The kitchen was not set up. We did not have a comfortable living area. The bathroom sinks and taps were not installed. There were water leaks at several parts of the house.
I continued to work, only leaving office on 25 January 2005. I was very excited knowing that I would hold you in my arms in a matter of days. The next few days were spent preparing the basics: getting the cot ready, washing your new clothes and getting the kitchen ready.
On Shane’s 2nd birthday, Uncle Edmund and Elaine sent your father, Shane and me to the hospital. We explained to your brother that his ‘mei mei’ would be arriving soon. Although your delivery was supposed to be a surgical procedure, labour started naturally and I was experiencing contractions throughout the night. Your father who was with me in the operating theatre, held my hand as you came into this world. Your first cries were loud and energetic. Very quickly, they delivered you to my arms.
My daughter, here.
The past 8 weeks have gone by very quickly. With Shane, I was a first time mom worried that I would do something that would jeopardise his survival. This time, I was more confident in my ability to take care of you. The house slowly started to take shape as more areas were cleared for domestic living. I had help from Grace and together we settled into a daily routine. You slept well during the day, waking up to be carried or fed. At night, your brother would play with you, stealing your pink receiving blanket and smothering you with kisses. You were breastfed entirely on demand and put on a kilogram by the 1st month.
I am typing this letter to you while you sleep. I am watching you as any mother would watch over her newborn. Your hairline is just like papa’s. I love snuggling into your soft brown hair and taking in the musty and sweet smell of your scalp. I’ve noticed that you have a defiant forehead (like me), a petite nose (not like any of your parents) and a rose bud mouth. Your hands, feet and ankles are slim. You are so adorable that I have to resist the urge to bite you. Your eyes have started to focus and linger on my face. Over the Easter weekend, you started to smile.
Amidst this haze of wonderment and baby love, I know that you won’t remain a baby forever. One day, your limbs will be taller and stronger than mine. You will have your own thoughts and dreams to pursue. I will have to let you go. That is why I treasure every moment and selfishly hope that you will always return to me for comfort, love and hugs.
I love you.
Mommy
28 March 2005
You are 2 months old. 8 weeks ago, mommy was brought into the operating theatre at the Singapore General Hospital for a planned caesarean section. I had hoped for a natural delivery. However, the scan at 38 weeks showed that you were large – your growth had spiked in the last 3 months of my pregnancy and your abdominal circumference was off the growth charts. The doctor advised that having you by c-section would be safer for both of us.
The doctor wanted to schedule the c-section on 24 January. But I wanted it a week later for two reasons i) I wanted your birthday to be closer to Shane’s ii) I felt that I had to get more prepared.
There was a lot that was still undone. Mostly with the house. The kitchen was not set up. We did not have a comfortable living area. The bathroom sinks and taps were not installed. There were water leaks at several parts of the house.
I continued to work, only leaving office on 25 January 2005. I was very excited knowing that I would hold you in my arms in a matter of days. The next few days were spent preparing the basics: getting the cot ready, washing your new clothes and getting the kitchen ready.
On Shane’s 2nd birthday, Uncle Edmund and Elaine sent your father, Shane and me to the hospital. We explained to your brother that his ‘mei mei’ would be arriving soon. Although your delivery was supposed to be a surgical procedure, labour started naturally and I was experiencing contractions throughout the night. Your father who was with me in the operating theatre, held my hand as you came into this world. Your first cries were loud and energetic. Very quickly, they delivered you to my arms.
My daughter, here.
The past 8 weeks have gone by very quickly. With Shane, I was a first time mom worried that I would do something that would jeopardise his survival. This time, I was more confident in my ability to take care of you. The house slowly started to take shape as more areas were cleared for domestic living. I had help from Grace and together we settled into a daily routine. You slept well during the day, waking up to be carried or fed. At night, your brother would play with you, stealing your pink receiving blanket and smothering you with kisses. You were breastfed entirely on demand and put on a kilogram by the 1st month.
I am typing this letter to you while you sleep. I am watching you as any mother would watch over her newborn. Your hairline is just like papa’s. I love snuggling into your soft brown hair and taking in the musty and sweet smell of your scalp. I’ve noticed that you have a defiant forehead (like me), a petite nose (not like any of your parents) and a rose bud mouth. Your hands, feet and ankles are slim. You are so adorable that I have to resist the urge to bite you. Your eyes have started to focus and linger on my face. Over the Easter weekend, you started to smile.
Amidst this haze of wonderment and baby love, I know that you won’t remain a baby forever. One day, your limbs will be taller and stronger than mine. You will have your own thoughts and dreams to pursue. I will have to let you go. That is why I treasure every moment and selfishly hope that you will always return to me for comfort, love and hugs.
I love you.
Mommy
28 March 2005
# posted by Carrie @ 9:26 PM 
