the first days with a newborn

Its Saturday 20 June. 10 days after Rawin was born. Almost a week after returning from the hospital. We are back in our condo in Bangkok. Tuk’s close friends have visited us as also her family including the grandparents.

Ten days of just us with baby Rawin. Tuk and I had wanted to be with our newborn son during the first few weeks rather than go stay with the grandparents.

We said its the loveliest thing to do: just us and our baby together as we both learn hands-on how to feed, clothe and put to sleep a newborn. It would be enjoyable. How difficult could that be really? Well. It all depends.

The nights are the worst and dawn can’t come soon enough. Every sneeze, wheeze and hiccup feels like a crisis. Tensions rise between us as well but fortunately they are rare and soon pass as we look at each other or hold each other. I have to constantly remind myself that she needs all the support she can get right now, and I don’t have to be right or wrong (although my mind fights against this).

Some nights are a long descent into a nightmare of crying and irritation as he gets the occasional gas or tummy grumbles, doesn’t sleep soundly enough, fusses over his feeding, and ends up hungry and angry. I’ve never seen a baby get so annoyed or be so short-tempered as this little guy. God, what’s he going to be like when he gets older?

Some nights we think the walls have closed in as he cries and fusses and we don’t know what he wants or what we should be doing. Is it stomach ache? is he too cold? too hot? One night Tuk breaks down in tears and I have to comfort her (and also tell her that the baby book I have been consulting says that its not uncommon for mums to feel a large wave of depression about a week after birth. She smiles).

Hiccups are the worst. His whole body shakes. But we find a solution: rush him to Tuk’s breast. The hiccups vanish in about 5 minutes; for us it seems an eternity. Actually we thought the hiccups were lasting for an hour at least … until once I decided to actually time it.

Tuk’s breasts are not giving enough milk as yet. The doctor said it could sometimes take up to ten days. We could not bear the sight and sound of him crying when he’s not full, so we started on supplemental bottle formula milk since the 3rd day.

Its anguish for Tuk when he cries. Babies are supposed to cry, I say in my wise rational male voice. But his crying cuts into me as deeply.

Fortunately for us, he doesn’t cry very long or even hard. Mostly he just whinges a bit when we’re a little late with the feeding especially in the middle of the night. But he settles down once he gets his milk and then falls into sleep almost instantly after being full.

Tuk hugs him often. We also found that another great method is for me to take him all wrapped up and resting on my shoulder to walk around the room – something that he’s now gotten so used to that he demands we do it on a regular basis these days. We start writing down a time table of his feeding time to understand how often he gets hungry so that I’ll be ready with a prepared bottle in anticipation of his next cry for milk.

A few more days (and nights) pass. And it becomes just that little bit easier. We no longer fear the nights as much. We never feel tired at having to wake up around 2 and 3 am. We start to feel more comfortable with our newborn baby.

Hiccups? Tcha! Just a passing thing, he’ll be alright soon enough. Bathing? Pfft! He only dislikes (very much) when we remove his clothes, so we just do it all very smoothly and get some lukewarm water on him which he then enjoys.

Feeding? Once Tuk finishes feeding him on her breasts, he’s usually still hungry. So then its my turn to give him a top-up of baby milk as he lies on my lap. We’ve got this routine now pat even while its 3 am and we’re both half asleep. He hardly notices he’s been shifted from mum’s lap to the bottle in dad’s hand. Stomach cramps? Occasionally and its no big deal. We rub some Thai lotion on his stomach and feet. He gurgles and sleeps. We throw away the time table of his feeds and just do it by looking and listening to him.

During the day he’s started to keep awake for some hours at a time and “chats” to faces and brightly-colored objects near him and “listens’ to our voices. We begin to enjoy these moments even as we try to also do our own things, eat, bathe, talk, catch a nap, check about newborn stuff on the web. By Sunday 21st June, we’re very relaxed as we prepare for his first car ride (after being born) to take him to his grandparents. Tuk drives and I sit in the back seat holding him all wrapped up, a bag of bottles and water and milk and lotions all at hand.

We feel relief and a sense of reaching a plateau of comfort. We’ve gone through the first weeks of being parents all by ourselves. In between, we’ve had moments where our tempers have flared up or we’ve been on edge as every day seems it’s all condo and baby and stuff happening inside these walls. We’re finding new confidence in each other, becoming more trusting of each others decisions.

Having visitors helps.

We can laugh and chat and explain to others our fascination with this new life in our midst and how we’re coping (or not). My oldest brother visits and uncle and nephew get along well together: Rawin responding with gurgles as soon as my brother started talking to him.

Having someone from my family to visit and hold Rawin feels nice and it becomes a more forceful reality of me becoming a father.

One day, the entire team of Tuk's colleagues lands up, about 20 of them. They realize our living room is quite small and separate themselves neatly into two groups; all the women visit and chat with Tuk first while the men hang around outside. Afterwards the men troop in and soon the condo is full of chatter and laughter. We’re not alone. Now when he cries, we smile.

Rawin

On 10th June 2009 at 1.43 pm our son was born weighing 3.1 kgs. I still relive that early morning when we drove to the Ramathibodhi hospital in the Bangkok traffic trying to be calm, chatting of this and that while trying desperately to not think of the worst - that all may be lost. Tuk had complained of pain the previous night but we both became anxious when she found herself bleeding in the morning. We rushed to our respective pregnancy books and decided to immediately leave for the hospital. My anxieties were soothed by the fact that things went so smoothly from the minute we landed at the hospital entrance. And I cannot thank enough the government hospital and its wonderful nurses and doctors.

Entering the hospital, Tuk walked to the wheelchair stand where a staff came over with a wheelchair and then we all three went to the sixth floor maternity ward. Tuk was asked to get to a bed behind a green curtain while they left the filling of forms to me and another nurse. The nurses and doctors went about their work calmly and professionally. By now my heart was beating loud enough for them to admit me into the cardiac seizure ward. Our doctor walked in after a few minutes and chatted with the others. Then he went and checked Tuk. I had one eye and ear on the closed green curtain with Tuk on the other side while helping the nurse fill in our forms, now even more openly thinking of the worst, asking whether our son was going to make it, praying, weeping inside for everything to be alright. A few minutes later our doctor (oh he’s such a cool youngish-looking dude) walked by and when I was waiting if he would say anything, he spoke to me, “the delivery is today for sure”.
So. It was going to happen. Almost 11 days in advance of the scheduled date. I hung around hoping to see Tuk. After a while, she walked out clothed in the hospital green robe. I was still trying to figure out what was going to happen when we were told that Tuk would be taken inside to the delivery room and I wasn’t allowed there. Tuk wondered aloud to me if she should just ask for a c-section and get it over with. I was almost going to say yes just so we could get this unbearable suspense and waiting over with, but I then asked her to wait on a bit. She nodded and then walked down the corridor into the rooms. The nurse told me that it was only the beginning of labour and it could take more than ten hours sometimes before they could tell me anything.
They told me to go home and rest and gave me the ward telephone number to call and find out the status. Since men were not allowed to hang around there, I had to leave but of course I couldn’t go home really not while Tuk was there waiting and god knows what was going to happen. Tuk’s friends called by now and they told me a place to have coffee and a bite to eat. I wandered off downstairs totally lost, surrounded by the hospital buzz of people and announcements trying to find somewhere to sit and collect myself. A small park and a coffee shop. Thank god. I tried breathing calmly and medidating, thinking of our life together which already seemed to have been filled with so much of everything, pain and joy and anguish and anxiety. I called Sunil who advised me to go to his place and eat and rest rather than wait around. I couldn’t decide at first, waiting around near Tuk seemed the best thing to do. But then there was nothing to do there and so I took a taxi to his place. Suddenly while inside the taxi I had the urge to fling myself out and rush back to the hospital. What was I doing? Why wasn’t I near Tuk? What if she needed me? I had to grip the seat and eventually made it to Sunil’s place without completely losing my mind. A shower and food and some conversation greatly helped. We checked with the hospital every hour. They told us to check later in the afternoon.
But by 1 pm I decided to leave Sunil’s place and come back to the hospital. I went straight to the 6th floor ward to check. I wasn’t sure what would have happened, probably nothing although it had been more than five hours. When I went to check, the nurse looked up the screen. And said, yes the delivery has happened at 1.43 pm, the boy and mother are well. Gosh. I couldnt believe it, and kept peering at the screen dumbfounded. Deo gratias as my father used to say. So this is how it feels. We have completed one part of our journey together, Tuk and I. I was wondering what to do next, hanging around trying to be inconspicuous in case they asked me to leave again. Then I turned round and suddenly Tuk was wheeled out in the bed and was near me. We held hands. We looked at each other. I smiled at her and said “congratulations mum”. Tears welled in her eyes. I’ll never forget that moment. She looked up at me, extraordinarily tender and eyes brimming with tears. I wiped her eyes and cheeks and we then smiled. I started sms’ing the world, starting with Metta her older sister and then Jackie and Masao, dear friends to both of us. I still hadn’t seen the baby our son. But that could wait. He was fine they said and had been taken to be checked and would be brought back in a few hours. For now, we were relieved and happy to just be together again.