oh baby.

Emran Hamzah is 16 days old today. :)

The day of his arrival was a rollercoaster of emotions for me, and I bet for my Sayang too. He's premature by 6 weeks, and that alone sent me on a low so low it was unbelievable that I got back up. And then there were the other complications: my water leaked about a week before that, which could lead to an infection, the medication (Ventolin, I think that's the name) they put me on to prolong contraction was giving me palpitations and a fever, and to top it all off our baby's heartbeat was fast as well.

This is why the good doctor advised us to go for emergency Cesarean rather than normal delivery.

And the contractions. Oh my the contractions. Yes, I do realize that my threshold of pain is low compared to most people, and to some what I experienced may have been mild, but it was my body, and it was me who was taking all the pain, and those contractions were NASTY. They were only 2 minutes apart, and after about 15 hours dilation was only at 2cm. The epidural was necessary!

I remember thinking as we were driving to the hospital at 2am, "So this is how I'm going to celebrate my birthday, huh?" Lying on the hospital bed, being monitored by nurses with machines and devices to keep a close watch on me and the little one inside me. Somehow it didn't occur to me, while we were driving by Subang Parade, then I would be sharing my birth date with my son. Not only that, I was born 29th January 1981 at 4:10pm; Hamzah arrived at 4:43pm. The time was only apart by 33 minutes. How cool is that?

:)

In a way, I was glad that the doctor opted for emergency C-sec, rather than knocking me out completely. They made sure I couldn't see anything during the op, but from the moment the doctor said "Congratulations, its a boy!" to that time when I heard his cry for the first time, and to when the nurses and paediatrician check on him behind me and finally when he was presented before my eyes... I was fed on a natural high that kept on rising up. I was so happy he's arrived, I forgot that he was still a preemie.

And I thought to myself (or did I say it out loud in the operating theatre? hmm.) that this is the best way to celebrate a birthday ever.

And now at home, 16 days later, and he has been the reason for so many smiles and happy faces around the house. His Nenek and Tok Ayah can't seem to get enough of him, and his Mak Chu happily takes the duty of "Hamzah's Official Photographer" away from us. Even the boys' heart are melting... so does ours. For a premature baby, he is healthy, and Alhamdullilah fully formed physically. Not much else we could ask for, really.

Of course, caring for a child is not without its challenges. And this boy challenges us every night from 10pm to about 6am. I've cried and sighed and dozed off while trying to coax him to sleep, but in the morning I wake up, and I don't need any reminder that this is all worth it.

And my support system has been great. My Babe stays up with me when Hamzah cries and whines, and Mommy is always just a phone call away. I can just call my sisters when something is troubling me (and believe me, there is always something that troubles me everyday), and friends have offered helpful tips and advices.

I doubt myself sometimes, if I am really prepared and capable for this. I admit to wishing that things would be easier, that I can somehow know what would happen next. I fear about his development, about whether he is drinking enough milk, what would happen when I start work in April/May. But then I catch a glimpse of his smile, his frown, his pout, the movement of his chest as he breathe, and all my fears would somehow just disappear, albeit for just a brief moment.

I honestly never knew that love could ever feel like this.