Poop-Eat-Sleep Princess

Its been two weeks since my last post. Two weeks since my life changed from being a pregnant wife, to a deflated balloon tummy- mummy. Yes. DB Tummy -Mummy. Not Yummy AT ALL.
The scar has healed but it is there, prominently reminding me of my first encounter in an Operation Theatre Room. Its not the scar that bothers me. I 'adorn' it with pride. Its the Deflated looking balloon Tummy that makes me feel a tad bit sad. Ok. That is an understatement. I HATE it. With all my heart. My once tight abdomen is now saggy and crinkly. My once hip belly ring holes are now staring at me in sorrow.
Every now and then, I will flash my tummy to Ryan and ask him "has my tummy shrunk?"

Ryan has mastered the art of lying.

Somehow, I'm relieved.

"wow! its shrinking so fast!"

Ironic how we ask our spouses to be true, 'till death do we part'- but we silently plead for words of comfort when there is a need.I guess, that is when love steps in.

Just hours after Isobel's birth



Ryan and I have decided to register her as Isobel Daniella Iking-Chong and not the other way round as we initially planned. Because we have been calling her Isobel since the day we found out her gender and decided on her name, it only made sense to place Isobel as the first name. My dad said it is also 'in honour' of my granpa Isidore Iking.

I'm not quite sure how to describe my feelings for her. I know I love her. I cried when I first heard her wail. I cried when I knew she had jaundice. I cried when I was told she couldn't 'room in' with me cause she had to be put under the UV light for her phototherapy. I cried when the doctor told me her jaundice level had gone up. I cried when we brought her home and had a portable phototherapy unit set up in our room. I cried when I was in too much pain to breastfeed her. I cried when they told me her jaundice level went down. I cried when she cried. I cried when she didn't.
Basically, I've just been crying a lot.

Some say I am hit by the postpartum blues.
I say its the torture of being confined in a house that is not home.
(I miss my mummy)
First, its the food.
Second, its the 1011 do's & dont's.
Third, its the thought of not knowing how my life will change now that I have this Poop-Eat-Sleep baby around.

It is called a paradigm shift.

A shift I am not sure I will like.

Don't get me wrong. I love her. I just can't convince myself, at this point of time, how her presence will work out in our schedule.

They say it will come naturally. The whole motherhood and adapting to its foreign lingo.
I guess I am just uncomfortable with the thought of my comfort zone being stretched, squished and squashed.
Again, another understatement.

I friggin hate the fact that I've got to amend some things I've grown accustomed to. My freedom, my passion for travel, my career...

Selfish you say?

No. Just wasn't ready to begin with.

On the third day...



Despite it all, she is the new
Love Of My Life.

4th day

In fact, she is the only Love in my Life right now.

with 'Odu' (maternal grandma)

Barely a week old


Isobel Daniella,

One day you will be bright enough to read this.
But by then, you will know that it is indeed the postpartum blues that has hit mommy.
By then, mommy would have learned how to successfully ski/surf/blade that paradigm shift she's been complaining about in this post.
By then, mommy will have the answers to her weird dreams.
By then - she will know what to do and will act upon it.

God willing.