Tuesday, December 19, 2006
petite fleur
on sundays, grandma comes to visit
you shy away, hang on tightly
as if afraid a gust of wind would blow you away
it takes some time for you to warm then you’re ready
your arms reach out like petals extending to the sun
and she giggles in the sweet fragrancewhich is our petite fleur
every sunday, it is the same refrain
take care of petite fleur
hold her tight
protect from harm
she is a gentle-lady
grandma looks at me with lines in her face
tired eyes which tell me that she is fast fading
I can’t bear to lookas if reading my thoughts
she reminds me again to prepare her will in case she conks off
this I have been putting off
I laugh off her anxiety
as you hang on to me
I hang on to her
as she hangs on to you
our petite fleur
on sundays, grandma comes to visit
you shy away, hang on tightly
as if afraid a gust of wind would blow you away
it takes some time for you to warm then you’re ready
your arms reach out like petals extending to the sun
and she giggles in the sweet fragrancewhich is our petite fleur
every sunday, it is the same refrain
take care of petite fleur
hold her tight
protect from harm
she is a gentle-lady
grandma looks at me with lines in her face
tired eyes which tell me that she is fast fading
I can’t bear to lookas if reading my thoughts
she reminds me again to prepare her will in case she conks off
this I have been putting off
I laugh off her anxiety
as you hang on to me
I hang on to her
as she hangs on to you
our petite fleur
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Your first words are "ma ma ma". You say this when you wake up. You say this when you want something - to be carried, food, company.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
When you entered the world, I cried tears of joy.
Today, I cried again, afraid that something would take you away.
Your fever started on 3 October. It was a low grade fever 37.8 so I monitored your condition until 6 October when I brought you the polyclinic. They did a blood test ruling out dengue.
“It is probably a viral fever”, the doctor said.
On 10 October, they tested your blood again.
“Not entirely clear, we’ll test her again on 13 October and if she’s ok we’ll do her last round of immunisation.”
Today, they tested your blood again. I was quite annoyed that you had your blood drawn 3 times. But this is the polyclinic, I trust them to know what is best.
“White blood cells high. Red blood platelets have shot up. We have to review her again.”
The doctor tried to be helpful. He showed me the scores which showed that your blood platelets had exceeded the normal indication.
“What does this mean doctor?”
“We will have to test her again on Saturday 15 October. This is probably a reaction. We could be in a window of recovery, but if it continues to spike up we have to go for further tests.”
“Further tests for what?”
“We check for the possibility of other blood diseases”
15 October is 48 hours away. It stretches ahead like an eternity. For the past hour I have googled ‘blood platelets increasing”. As if by naming the monster, I will be ready for battle.
Between the blood tests, worrying does nothing.
At the same time, I hope that I’m worrying too much for nothing.
Today, I cried again, afraid that something would take you away.
Your fever started on 3 October. It was a low grade fever 37.8 so I monitored your condition until 6 October when I brought you the polyclinic. They did a blood test ruling out dengue.
“It is probably a viral fever”, the doctor said.
On 10 October, they tested your blood again.
“Not entirely clear, we’ll test her again on 13 October and if she’s ok we’ll do her last round of immunisation.”
Today, they tested your blood again. I was quite annoyed that you had your blood drawn 3 times. But this is the polyclinic, I trust them to know what is best.
“White blood cells high. Red blood platelets have shot up. We have to review her again.”
The doctor tried to be helpful. He showed me the scores which showed that your blood platelets had exceeded the normal indication.
“What does this mean doctor?”
“We will have to test her again on Saturday 15 October. This is probably a reaction. We could be in a window of recovery, but if it continues to spike up we have to go for further tests.”
“Further tests for what?”
“We check for the possibility of other blood diseases”
15 October is 48 hours away. It stretches ahead like an eternity. For the past hour I have googled ‘blood platelets increasing”. As if by naming the monster, I will be ready for battle.
Between the blood tests, worrying does nothing.
At the same time, I hope that I’m worrying too much for nothing.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
How to Pull at a Party
You went to a chi chi vietnamese themed house party and charmed with the following antics:
Show interest. Look at someone with your most intense stare, smile shyly and coo when they stare back at you.
Balance on their lap and grind your butt only ever so lightly.
Its ok if you drool over them.
Its ok if you can't hold your drink.
Fall asleep on their sofa and cry in helplessness when you awake.
You went to a chi chi vietnamese themed house party and charmed with the following antics:
Show interest. Look at someone with your most intense stare, smile shyly and coo when they stare back at you.
Balance on their lap and grind your butt only ever so lightly.
Its ok if you drool over them.
Its ok if you can't hold your drink.
Fall asleep on their sofa and cry in helplessness when you awake.
# posted by Carrie @ 11:32 PM 
Thursday, September 08, 2005
You cut your first tooth after months of teething anguish.
How did i find out?
You bit me with your jagged lower teeth.
How did i find out?
You bit me with your jagged lower teeth.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
You started to crawl today.
You also have the cutest new expression when you laugh. Your eyes wrinkle up and you scrunch up your nose and expell tiny snorts snorts from your nose.
You also have the cutest new expression when you laugh. Your eyes wrinkle up and you scrunch up your nose and expell tiny snorts snorts from your nose.
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
