Whoa...Olivia slept through the night!  She went to sleep around 11pm'ish and woke up this morning at 6a.  Then again, I knew she was capable of doing it, it was just a matter of what time we put her down.  A total fluke though- she was up last night from 8p to 11p and that's usually a bad sign.  I tried so hard to put her to sleep at 10p but I think by then it was too late.  I missed the "window" of opportunity to put her down and in consequence, she got really fussy and cranky .

 

Sophia though, was no help last night.  She was in bed by 9:30p and didn't fall asleep until after 11p.  Ever since getting the new bed AND ever since Olivia was born, she thinks it's "okay" to come out to make her requests (blow her nose, go to the bathroom at least five times, check out what we're doing in the living room, etc).  I've threatened to put her in the corner (she might as well sleep there), I've threatened to slap her arse many times (as if she feels it through her night diaper) and I've threatened to throw her toys away (oh no big deal, grandparents will replace them) but to no avail.  I am definitely at wits end.  I haven't had the time to sit her down to explain that it's a NO-NO and I will not tolerate that kind of behavior with her.  She used to be so good (then again, she was in a crib, where was she going?).  Now, she's turned into a little devil.  Hopefully this shit will end soon.  My nerves are beginning to fray and my patience is wearing thin.  Phil is no help here.  She calls for him non-stop, like a broken record.  I keep telling Phil he needs to put his foot down and tell her NO.  Of course, NO is not in Phil's vocabulary (it never is, hence making him a total pushover and Mr. Passive) and he doesn't know how to tell Sophia NO.  And I will blame him for her late night antics.  Until he learns to step up and explain to her or PUNISH HER, she will be that monster that will drive me insane.  And you don't want to make me go crazy now do you, Phil?

 

***

 

Wasn't it funny (on Grey's Anatomy) when Dr. Bailey lactated after hearing Dr. Montgomery Shepherd cry?  I guess only mothers would understand the joke.  I couldn't stop laughing and had tears in my eyes!

I was hoping I wouldn't spread my cold to anyone in the house.  Unfortunately, Sophia caught a smidgen of it around the same time I did and she's still sniffling and sneezing.  Olivia on the other hand, caught the brunt of it yesterday.  Though she showed no signs of letting the cold get to her during the early evening, she really suffered in the middle of the night (more like, WE suffered).  It was painful to hear her struggle to breathe.  It sounded more like a frog was stuck in her throat.  We barely got any sleep.  And poor Phil had to go into work today.  I'm planning to take Olivia to the doctor's, but what could he possibly prescribe a three week old newborn?  Sigh.  We are so fucked this weekend.

 

PastryMom inquired how Sophia's new bed is treating her.  Another bad news- because Sophia refuses to sleep on the mattress (the top part of the bed) as she prefers to sleep in her "drawer" (the trundle)where the futon lies.  The other night while I was trying to put Olivia to sleep, Sophia decides to test my patience and hollers for the umpteenth time from her bedroom, "COVER", "COVER" (meaning, somebody cover me with the blanket) (I've told her over and over that she can cover herself and Phil and I will not do it for her.  She's awoken several times in the middle of the night and crawled into our room to demand us to cover her.)  I go into the bedroom with Olivia on one arm, the other arm, holding the milk bottle steady, now seething with so much anger.  I yell at Sophia to go to sleep and next thing you know, she scrambles into the bed, tripping herself and slamming nose first on the edge of the bed (she now sports a cut on her bridge and a bruise on her nose and forehead).  Just wonderful.

 

There's another story to tell about Sophia, but can't type it right now.

Boy oh boy.  Last night was a serious free fall for us.  It started around 8p.  Olivia couldn't be consoled.  She just kept crying and crying for no apparent reason.  We changed her diaper (like, several times).  We changed her outfit.  We fed her.  We gave her the pacifier.  We swaddled her.  We cuddled her.  EVERYTHING.  She wailed for about 45 minutes before I suggested we throw her ass into a bathtub (not literally throw).  And you know what, IT WORKED.  It totally calmed her down.  She was a bit cold (she was shivering a bit), but at least she stopped crying like she was in pain. 

 

In between her wailings, my grandmother called, as she has called at least once a day to see how the baby is thriving.  As much as I love my grandmother, it annoys me that she calls to check up on her/us.  Maybe the annoyance is because it's difficult for me to converse in Chinese to her- remember, my Chinese is extremely limited.  At that point, I said to my grandmother in a high pitched voice, almost yelling to her, that I couldn't talk, the baby was crying (I'm pretty sure she heard the wails) and I had to get off the phone.  Few seconds later, my mother calls and leaves an urgent message, TWICE.  Apparently my grandmother called my parents (my father was out) to tell them something was wrong with the baby, kinda freaking my mother out.  Phil and I didn't hear the phone ring.  We were in the bathroom dunking Olivia while Sophia was in the living room doing her puzzle (she doesn't answer the phone).  I got to the phone the third time and told my mom it's really nothing, the baby is just crying hysterically and to not worry, but she cut me off and said she was coming over.  Oookay.

 

Wait, the fucking drama doesn't end.  Five minutes after my mother shows up, guess who else shows up at our door?  MY GRANDPARENTS.  AIYIYIYI!  I should have taken a photo of my grandmother's face.  I swear, she looked like she ran the whole 26.2 miles of the NYC marathon and the finish line was at our doorstep.  I wanted to laugh so badly, but I knew that would have pissed my grandmother off.  I knew she was very worried about the baby when in reality, there was nothing to be concerned about!  My grandfather though, cool as a cucumber, was mumbling how the baby is fine and cussed under his breath how grandma dragged his ass out of their apartment (okay, I made that up, but it is something he would say).  Grandpa can easily be comforted with cookies and candy.  Grandma on the other hand, just HAD to see the baby to make sure her great-granddaughter is okay.  Lordy lord.

 

Our guess is Olivia had a bad bellyache and that was what made her howl.  My mom held Olivia and rubbed her belly in a circular motion.  It seemed to help- Olivia let out a huge burp.  Few minutes later, my mother put her in the bassinett and Phil and I shooed everyone home.  Olivia fussed a bit after everyone left.  We fed her some milk and she called it a night, as if the past few hours never happened.

 

I sure hope that wasn't a sign of colicky.   

So much to post, so little, little time-

 

Umm...how did my daughter weigh in 7lbs 2ozs at birth (and managed to leave the hospital at the same weight- very, very rare, most babies leave the hospital losing weight!) and in two weeks, a visit to the doctor's office, weighed in

 

 

Holy fucking fatness.  I better enroll her in a fat farm camp this summer.

 

By the way, I am feeling a little better today.  Thanks to those who were/are concerned.  I think being outdoors makes a whole lot of difference in my state-of-mind these days (Chinese culture, your ass stays indoors AT LEAST for a month- dumb STUPID-stition). 

By the way, Valentine's Day is soooooooooooooo OVERRATED. 

 

I don't need a pseudo holiday to tell my husband that I love him.

Yeah, I got it.  The blues have returned once again.  And I'm not ashamed to admit it either.

 

I've cried twice at the hospital, just because I was extremely upset Sophia didn't want to visit me.  I know, I know, she's just a child and doesn't understand.  But I had no *pictures of her with me and I couldn't remember what she looked like (very strange, huh?).  I was so frustrated.  All I kept visualizing was my younger sister, Kim when she was a baby (Sophia and Kim very much look alike when Kim was young).  Sophia was out with the nanny when I came home from the hospital.  So the first thing I did was look for her dog that she sleeps with.  I held it tight and sniffed it.  Ahh.  It smelled just like Sophia.  And I missed her that much.

 

I guess last week was a week of me popping painkillers, so I didn't feel very emotional.  Plus I've been trying to keep up with sleep and rest (Me?  Rest?  Unheard of!), dealing with the pain, tidying the home (I can't sit still and relax), etc.  This week though, it's gotten me literally cuckoo.  Maybe because Phil went back to work yesterday.  Actually I'd rather have him at work.  Sophia drives me NUTS when he's home (she's shouted his name at least a trillion times when he's around).  Maybe it's because I'm jealous he gets to go somewhere while I'm stuck at home with the kids and having no life outside of being a mom.  How I fucking HATE feeling this way.

 

For the past two weeks, I've often wondered what would have happened if I hadn't been pregnant for the past nine months.  Would I have found a new career?  Or just a job just to hold me over.  Would I have travelled to Europe without Phil and Sophia?  What would my life be like?  I guess I would never know since I have a new baby to tend to. 

 

As much as I hated being pregnant, I don't regret my choice in having another baby.  I know it's for our own good and unselfish reasons.  I never wanted to have a child that was "the only child."  It's so that when Phil and I leave this world, at least I know Sophia and Olivia will have each other. 

 

Goddammit, I'm tearing up as I write this!!!!!  What madness!  Stop the fucking tears, you cry baby!  Oh lord, I'm talking to myself on my blog.  How pathetic!

 

By the way, Olivia, IS A P-I-G.  She drinks like it's happy hour 24 hours a day.  There are times when she would drink almost 3ozs (Sophia as a newborn never did that).  Where the hell does she store all this?  Phil and I are gonna go broke with this child.  I better pump more and store the milk in the freezer (she's also formula fed).  Oh, and Olivia bit me the same way Sophia did.  NURSING IS NOT FOR ME.  I'd rather clean bottles for the rest of the year than offer her my breasts.  I've been traumatized for life.  Thank God I tied my tubes.

 

Anyway, I know this blues thing will pass.  I know I'll be fine.  I know it will pass.  It's going to take some time to get over it.  It must be all the hormones in my body going wacky.  Or maybe I won't be fine until I go back to work.  Who knows.  I guess we'll have to wait and see.  But don't worry, unless I start talking about jumping off my balcony.  Until then, hold off your therapist's business card. 

 

More about Meredith and McDreamy.  Read this, I got this from Grey's Anatomy's website, written by the show's writer, Shonda Rhimes.  If this isn't love, well then, I don't know what to tell you. 

The last thing I want to say about this episode has to do with Meredith.  Because all she really wants is some kind of reason to live.  I’ve heard a lot of talk about Meredith being whiny but the truth is, she’s got a mom with Alzheimer’s, no other family to speak of, and the man she loves is married.  She’s pretty freaking lonely, people.  She’s got a right to get her whine on.  So, when she falters, when she doesn’t want to pull her hand out of Mr. Carlson, it’s partly because she’s got nothing to hang on to.  As she says in the first episode, she needs a reason to go on, she needs some hope.  Which is why she has to picture Derek to get through it.  And at the end, when he shows up at her house (and he shows up just to see for himself that she is alive), she has to ask.  She has to ask him about their last kiss because if she’s ever going to get out of that bed again and keep going, she needs a reason.  She needs to know there’s someone out there for her.   She needs some hope.  And Derek (can Patrick Dempsey be any more amazing?) describes that last kiss, the last kiss they had as a happy couple, in such perfect detail that Meredith knows she’ll be okay.  Because he wouldn’t remember that kiss so well if he didn’t love her.  He couldn’t.  It’s her sign.

He loves her.  Even if he can’t be with her.  Even if he has a wife. 

He loves her, people.

PS- Dr. Bailey's comment to George, "Stop looking at my Va-Jay-Jay!" was so damn funny!

OH MY GOD. 

 

I don't know if I was going through post-partum, but last night's Grey's Anatomy episode was REALLY a heart-wrenching one to watch.  I was in tears non-stop throughout the show.  When Meredith and McDreamy stood in the foyer, looking at one another, I thought FOR SURE they were going to kiss or at least give a hug.  But instead, they refrained from touching each other.  DAMMIT!

 

Yes, I owe a big post about the girls.  Just been a bit overwhelming for the past few days.  Will try to do it this week.

 

How about that snowstorm???!!!

So where did I last leave off?  Ahh right…

 

I went to take a nap and woke up in an hour in serious pain.  Luckily I encouraged Phil to go jogging earlier than later.  I waited for about fifteen minutes to see if there were any changes in my contractions before calling my doctor to tell them my status.  I couldn’t even breathe correctly…I just remember being out of breath.  I was told to immediately go to the hospital.  Every bump the car hit, I cringed in pain.  Thank goodness there was no traffic as it was midday and we got to the hospital pretty quickly.

 

I was admitted to the hospital around 2p and was sent to the labor and delivery floor.  The room I had was quite hot and stuffy (that day was gorgeous- 58 degrees, I guess they didn’t turn the heat down).  Luckily they had a standing fan.  I was told to undress and get on the table.  I thought to myself…THIS IS IT!  But before I got all excited and nervous, I was asked a thousand of questions on my health status from several residents and doctors.  My contractions weren’t too bad as I was able to answer them.  I was also hooked up to the machine to hear the baby’s heart rate and my contractions.  Before I knew it, the anesthesiologist came in and gave me the miracle drug- EPIDURAL.  (Warning, you must stay still when the anesthesiologist sticks a needle on your spine.  And it hurts like a mofo!)  AWW YEAH.  I didn’t feel a single contraction after that.  Heavenly.  Also inserted was a catheter- I didn’t have to get up to pee! 

 

Mind you, I didn’t eat anything since breakfast when we drove to the doctor’s office.  And it was just a buttered roll.  I was starving but I knew I was not allowed to eat.  It was around dinnertime (my dinnertime is at 6p) and I was slowly dilating to 4-5cm.  Phil and I watched some TV (yes, they have a TV in the delivery room!) and had a snooze here and there.

 

Around 9p, my doctor told Phil it was probably a good idea for him to go get dinner.  Phil decided he was going to have sushi and quickly jetted out.  While he was out, my doctor decided to break my water with a plastic hook (it looked like knitting crochet needle).  I felt the water oozing out, not like that gush of water everyone talks about when their water has broken. 

 

I drifted in and out of sleep after 11p.  By then, I was about 6-7cm dilated.  I was slowly inching closer and closer, though not fast enough!  I was very disappointed the baby didn’t want to come out on January 30^th.  About 1a, I woke up with severe chills.  I tried to call Phil from across the room (he was dead asleep), but I was so cold, my teeth kept chattering.  It was easier to press the button to get the nurse’s attention.  They took my temperature and found I was running a fever.  That was then they decided I had to have a c-section.  At that point, I was 7cm dilated.  Dammit!  So close yet, so far away!

 

Everything after that was a huge blur.  I remember getting up from the table and dry heaved (I have a tendency to throw up whenever I have anesthesia).  I was halfway to the delivery room and yet I dry heaved again.  I was given anesthesia to numb my lower half.  It felt cool going down.  I was constantly in and out of consciousness as the doctors pushed and prodded my tummy.  I remember dry heaving.  I remember hearing Olivia cry.  I remember asking Phil if she had ten fingers and ten toes (I don’t think he heard me, I must’ve mumbled it).  I remember getting a bad case of the cold shakes (one of the doctors warmed me with a heater).  When the doctors were all done stitching me back up, they asked if I wanted to hold Olivia and I quickly said no- in the state I was in, I was afraid to drop her.  And I had to dry heave AGAIN.  I have to say, second time delivering was definitely worse than the first time.  And it will be my last.  There will be no “third’s a charm.”   In other words, my tubes are tied.  No more condoms.  No more contraceptives.  THIS FACTORY IS SHUT DOWN FOR GOOD!!!!!

 

More to post on the hospital, Olivia and Sophia.

We are home now, back from the hospital.  Will try to update you all as soon as I can gather some strength from sleep deprivation.  Here are the stats if you haven't received my e-mail:

 

Olivia Kaya

born on January 31st

7lbs, 2ozs

20 inches

at 5:44a