The muffin thus far

A good friend recently commented that she forgets most of the time that I actually am pregnant. Truth be told, I think I would too if not for the fact that I'm sporting a huge bump and it has a mind of its own, moving, jigging, twitching, stretching and occasionally giving me a good kick. As with any second, third kid, there's a lot less thrill. Buy cot? Been there, done that, not doing it again. Clothes? Well, I did have a boy and a girl previously, so either way, we're covered. And those plain white pyjamas that the baby wears at the beginning, not the most exciting thing to buy and I'm probably leaving it up to grandma who will most definitely find better deals and softer PJs for a steal at the chain of markets that she visits.

So, what we're left to do is find a name, which is a terribly difficult task. As a teenager and a young adult, both unmarried and married, I always thought the most fun part about having a kid is to find a name. Unfortunately, that's not true. The name often picked is not the best suited, most favourite name for the baby. The name picked is often a compromise of the parents' and grandparents' preferences, the one that doesn't have a porn actress, druggie pop star, pretty boy attached to it and in our case, students that haven't annoyed us or been so insipid that we wouldn't wish that sort of trait on a newborn child who is supposed to be a blank slate. It also has to go with the most ubiquitous Asian surnames and has to not make up a weird acronym. Because of all these pre-conditions, whatever name we end up with, it's a compromise, it's the least offensive and least likely to end the poor child up in therapy and most acceptable. We're lucky we managed to come up with Jordan and Evan although Jordan wasn't a favourite with the grandparents. This time round, we really haven't figured it out and having already entered my third trimester, time is indeed running out.

What I would really want for this baby is to deliver this baby naturally. Lots of people don't get why it's a big deal to me. They think the c-section is the way to go because there's no long enduring labour, no stitches (not true! Just that stitches are in a different place altogether), baby comes out with a nicely shaped head etc. Well, true, but I've been there and done that and while the experience wasn't all that uncomfortable and difficult, it wasn't the experience I wanted. Even with the twins, I wanted to deliver them naturally. I knew the chances were not good but I was hoping to do it anyway. When I couldn't, I was bitterly disappointed but knew that I had small babies and it was unwise to stress them out. This time round, I only have one baby. But because of the last pregnancy with twins, the front wall of the uterus bears a large scar. The placenta wisely decided to plonk itself on the back wall which is better than being on the scar but it's also plonked itself relatively low down on the cervix so we don't know if it'll move out of the way by the time the baby needs to make its exit.

I know the most important thing is the baby's safety and health rather than forgoing all odds and insisting on a natural vaginal delivery. But I cannot help but feel bummed if I have to go through another c-section. My Ob-gyn is pretty pro-natural delivery but at the same time, he's cautious so he's already stated categorically that he isn't going to take unwarranted risks and have things go south. So, how we're delivering this little muffin is still up in the air. All I can do is to pray that the placenta skedaddles out of the way enough for muffin to take position and rock out naturally. And I guess if push comes to shove and there really isn't any other way to do it, then it's another scar on the bikini line.

Right now, those are the two big issues weighing down on me with the little muffin. Like I said, a lot of the superficial stuff, clothes, bottles, doing up the nursery... all seem to be insignificant. My only consolation is that Muffin's not going to be any the wiser. It isn't as if we're going to stick the little one into the sock drawer wrapped up in a towel.

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