|the real humblet|
On National Day, that is Sunday the 9th of August, J.G. and I were invited to his brother’s house to watch the parade. We were happy to go as we do not have a television in our home, as you might already know. Things went pretty normally, except on hindsight I think there were mild contractions. Anyhow, we got back pretty late that evening and settled in for the night.
At half past one in the morning, I had to pee (which happens ever too often when you’re pregnant) and I noticed that it was pink. Not sure if I ought to be alarmed, I simply cleaned up and left the bathroom. To my surprise, the pink fluid just kept flowing. Yes, experienced mums would know that my water bag had burst. Nothing dramatic like the mini waterfalls we see in TV serials.
Woke the man, who calmly told me to take a warm shower (my last in a bit) while he called the doctor for further instructions. By two-thirty, we were in the delivery ward and I was given an IV drip to hasten the contractions since a broken water bag would mean the baby was now more susceptible to complications.
The hours passed by slowly with contractions increasing in intensity and regularity, we tried very hard to obey the doctor’s instruction to get some sleep. But the adrenaline and the excitement of humblet’s arrival made it really difficult.
At around eight in the morning, the gynae came in looking rather concerned. We were told that with every contraction, humblet’s heart rate was slowing down. That could mean the umbilical cord was around her neck, pulling her back into the uterus each time the push came. He had to speed things up. This was nerve-wrecking news, because we had already endured the possibilityof losing her once during the first trimester. Nonetheless, we trusted them professionals. The dosage was increased and the once bearable contractions now left me writhing in pain, it was almost ten-thirty.
As the heart rate dipped with every contraction, things started to get urgent. Promptly at eleven, our doctor accompanied by two nurses came in and begin the birthing preparations.
Humblet was born at eleven fifty six that day, but those fifty minutes could well be the hardest we’ve experienced in our entire lives. With every contraction I was meant to push with all my might, but nothing seemed to be happening at all. After five to six attempts, a vacuum was used to assist in the delivery, even then nothing. Only a further fading heart rate and increasingly nervous faces scanning the monitors. The doctor said, if she doesn’t emerge soon they’d have to do an emergency cesarean for her safety.
So push we did, with or without the contractions. This paired with the vacuum placed on the crown of her tiny head as well as lots of vigorous shoving by the nurses. And painfully slowly, her head appears…
But wait her face was pale and there was the purple cord around her neck.
Even after the cord was cut, she did not stir.
I could not bear to turn my head, fearing the worst. Ten seconds later, with a healthy smack to the bottom – humblet wails, loud and clear. The most precious sound in the whole world. She made it! We made it!
The picture at the head of this post was taken after her first feed. She was alert, cooperative and most of all she was beautiful. We now joke about how she loves miracles in her life.
Humblet is a healthy one week old as of today. She has been discharged after spending two days in the hospital for jaundice. Seeing her feed, cry and smile are daily rewards we are immensely grateful for.
Thank you to everyone for your love and prayers ever since the first announcement. We continue to covet your prayers for our family and your love for Mya, because we know that journey has just begun.
Amy, J.G. and Little Mya