My so-called confinement

It's been more than six weeks since Emma came into our lives, and I am so dreading going back to work and leaving my little angel behind.

My post-partum recovery was smooth and quick. I was on my feet and walking to the hospital's Starbucks cafe on my second day. I did have an episiotomy and experienced some pain in the first week. I was terrified of infection - I mean, even when clean the stitches hurt. And Googling some of other people's experiences made me even more fearful, so I was super diligent with my sitz washes and hygiene in general. 

I have to say though, I started out never really agreeing with traditional Chinese confinement practices, and I know now I absolutely detest them. I'm sorry, I imagine practices like not bathing and washing one's hair (some traditionalists go so far as not allowing mothers wash their hands in tap water - only warm water), shunning ceiling fans (air conditioning is ok - go figure), imbibing copious amounts of alcohol, consuming loads of "heaty" ginger and sesame oil, drinking nothing but red dates tea, etc. maybe worked in ancient China where the air was dry the winters were cold, and wet nursing a legitimate business. But in the tropics, with over 90% humidity, and the fact that I delivered in the hottest, least rainy time of the year - this was a battle I was ready to fight. Seriously, some of these practices, like eating tons of ginger and drinking alcohol, could endanger newborns by worsening jaundice if a mother chooses to breastfeed (and 90% of Malaysian Chinese babies contract it).

Here's what I did/didn't do during my confinement:

1) I chose not engage a confinement lady. A long-practiced Chinese tradition, the CL is supposed to stay in one's home the month post-partum, and help look after the mother and newborn. Duties include preparing food  that help with the mother's recovery, take care of the newborn (especially at night to let the mother get her rest), and maybe do a bit of light housework. My thought was, with our newly arrived helper and my mum staying with us the first month, I did not want another person in the house to deal with. I think it turned out to be a great decision, thanks to my feelings about confinement practices in general (see above, and below). On another note, it never dawned on me that the confinement month was meant for the mother to basically rest and let everyone else do stuff for you, including take care of and feed the baby at night. I took care of Emma myself at night, and in the day I changed her diapers, gave her sponge baths, even baked cookies. My mother-in-law was shocked when she came by and found me spooning cookie dough onto baking sheets one evening. Looking back, I'm glad I did all I did. I'm pretty confident I can take care of Emma myself, and I adapted easily when my mum left for Penang and AK returned to work.

2) Food. Such a big deal in Chinese confinement. We got confinement food catered from this confinement centre. It's amazing, the mummy-and-baby services and products you can get these days. There is a huge market for high-end baby/children's products and I have to say, whatever products I found recommended online in the US, UK, or Australian websites, etc. are not only all available in Malaysia, most of the Malaysian suppliers take online orders too! More on that later.

Back to the confinement food deliveries. All I can say is, thank the Lord I decided to only go for the one meal per day package.  I hated the food - the sickly sweet soups chockful of dried longans, the vinegar pork (just not my thing, I really can't stand anything with vinegar - I understand many people love this dish), flabby salmon (to their credit, the fish was fresh. I just can't swallow cooked salmon). To be fair, I am probably not your typical Chinese gal, and most people would just suck it up and down the food. Many people even enjoy it. What I did NOT find at all acceptable was the fact that even though AK called and told them that I could not take ginger/sesame oil/traditional herbs like dong gui (angelica if I'm not mistaken), etc. because Emma had jaundice (in fact she has to remain in the hospital under UV therapy for 4 days after I delivered), they made no changes at all to the food preparations. Just as well, I pushed most of my food to poor AK and my mum, who ended up with ulcers because of the excessive amounts of ginger, sesame oil and whatnot. What did I eat? My mum's black bean and black chicken soup, pork ribs soup, roasted pork my mother in-law loved to buy, kampung chicken soup, stir-fried beef, omelettes, steamed eggs - all paired with brown rice from the confinement centre (that I could eat). For breakfast I ate oats with soy milk, and I added virgin coconut oil as I read a lot on its benefits for lactating mothers. In all truth, I was so sick of all the bland, healthy food that as the days wore on I ate less and less of my lunch and dinner, until at 3 plus weeks my mum caved and made chicken curry for me. Bliss.

3) I spent a grand total of 5 days without showering. These were the days I was cooped up in the hospital with Emma, where the air conditioning was cold and the bathroom just didn't feel conducive. As soon as we were discharged and I arrived home though, I headed straight for the shower. I did use the herbal mixture I purchased from Tanamera - got my helper to boil the herbs and added them to my bath water. A friend of ours also gifted me with a shower foam and shampoo set, traditionally made by a local Sabahan especially for post natal use. I ended up using the shower foam more than the herbs, purely because I was too impatient to get my herbs boiled, and the convenience of the ready made shower foam made it easy. I really really love the shampoo - left my hair glossy and better than it was during my pregnancy.

4) I signed up for 5 days of post-natal massages from Tanamera. I had heard good things about traditional Malay massage, hot stone treatment ("Tungku"), and abdominal wrapping ("bengkung") package. I would have loved every 2-hour session if I didn't hear poor Emma calling out for mummy every now and then :(. I did express milk beforehand for my mum and AK to syringe feed her, but she was pretty adamant she wanted her milk straight from the source. Other than that, the massages were such an indulgence. (Is it just me, or Isn't confinement like a one-month holiday - getting massages, the best of foods, etc. and you do nothing other than breastfeed haha :)). After each massage, my therapist would heat large river stones, wrap them with herbs and gently massage my abdomen. Then came the spice paste which was spread all over the ab area, and over that a corset-like wrap I was supposed to wear for as long as I could tolerate. I usually lasted around 5 hours, with the hot, spicy paste burning against my skin and the tightness of the corset. I don't know for sure if my uterus shrunk a little more, if any additional gas/"wind" was expelled, to tell the truth. But it felt good after and while I still have a thick layer of abdominal fat to get rid of, my gynae did tell me that my uterus shrank very fast.

5) I started going for walks with Emma around our neighborhood after the second week. I just felt that I needed to stretch my legs and get out of the house. In the evenings, if I wasn't too tired, I'd put Emma in her jogger, ignore my mum's protests and head to the neighborhood park. It was a sanity saver for me.

Well all I can say is that thank God it's all over. It's been a month since, and I still eat pretty healthy, thanks to my helper who cooks daily for me. And I still drink my red dates tea once a day, to help with milk production. But at least I do it because I want to.

Emma's first night home

Week 34, and Chocolate Pudding for Me

Week 34, people!

I know, I've been lucky compared to most women. I didn't experience morning sickness, I've been pretty much fit and healthy thoughout. I travelled, I worked out as much as I could find the time to (though not as much as I wanted to) - generally life was normal.

So can I whine a little here then?

I just got over a massive case of the flu - and over my 2-week leave period, much to my dismay.

Seriously, why??? I had so many plans, a list of things I wanted to do over the week after Christmas - take advantage of the end of the year sales, check out all the eating places that are 1) extremely popular and usually too crowded on weekends, and 2) those that I really wanted to try out but obligations didn’t allow. We also were supposed to shop for the rest of the baby stuff. I wanted to spring-clean and re-organize my wardrobe. Instead we spent much of the week in bed, alternating between dozing, wheezing and feeling sorry for ourselves.

Quality sleep has been a little hard coming these days. My belly tends to jut out straight and long vs. sideways (people standing behind me can't tell I'm pregnant, even at almost 8 months), and sleeping on my back is a no-no, so my stomach muscles are having a really hard time supporting my tummy when I sleep on my side. I've been waking up several times a night with really bad abdominal pain.

And let's not get me started on really weird and traumatizing dreams. I dreamt I hurt Boo (badly), of really horrible things happening to AK, of me not being able to handle the delivery..geez, what else does my subconscious have in store for me???

Add the blocked nose/super painful sore throat and periodic hot flashes throughout the night, and well, let’s just say it hasn’t been an easy few weeks.

Work has not let up either - there was this big review on the project I'm working on, and if I wasn't stressing about lack of sleep and being sick it was this.

 

Well, today's the last day of that review, and after all that travelling in November and December, working late and through my leave (yes, even while sick), it's almost done. I actually slept through most of the night yesterday – so am thinking that the weird combination of stress and my hormones produced the bout of nightmares. Well, let’s hope that’s the end of it.

So. I can finally really enjoy my weekends and - for goodness' sake - get back to the day to day stuff. Oh – and very importantly, prep my team for my upcoming absence.

I just wish I could take a few more days off, you know? - With the sickness and the knowledge of having to return to work, to the review, it wasn't exactly the break I envisioned. Sigh.

But the fact is that with handovers a-waiting and trying to get stuff closed (or cleaned up) before I leave for 3 months, taking another long period of absence before my maternity leave is kinda unthinkable right now. On the bright side, I will be working fewer hours and at my own pace.

So, welcome 2015. We didn’t start off on the right foot, but am sure things are looking up from herewith.

Oh, and what’s New Year’s without a list of things I want to be/achieve/do/start?

Below, not resolutions at all. I mean, sure, I want my team to perform better than what we did last year, I want to spend more time developing some people and showcasing others, I want to live in the moment, lose all the baby weight (and more), continue doing yoga - you get the picture. 

But there’s also this list – a bunch of really frivolous stuff I want to just because I’ll be happy doing them:

1) Make calcium-fortified chocolate pudding for snacking. I want to eat chocolate all the time. Might as well get some (more) nutrition in. This recipe is so easy, so quick, fulfills my calcium needs and my chocolate cravings. It's not the most luxurious or sophisticated of puddings, I'll admit - but it does fill the need.

 2) Finally get down to reading CJ Sansom's new book, Heartstone. I've written about Dissolution and Dark Fire before. CJ Sansom is one of my all time favourite authors and I am so thrilled that he wrote another 2 books after Revelation. I can’t think of any activity more pleasurable than spending quiet weekend afternoons immersed in Tudor mystery.

3) Take morning/evening walks. When I wasn’t sick I was saving my energy for work. I really need to move more before baby E arrives.

4) Make bakua at home, inspired by this and this. AK loves the stuff, but I don't let him buy as much as he would like to for fear of preservatives, colouring and fat. With Chinese New Year a peep away, what better time to attempt this?

Recipe: Super-easy Low-Fat High-Calcium Chocolate Pudding

1 litre skim or low/non-fat calcium-fortified milk
2/3 cup plus 3 tbsp sugar (I used natural brown sugar)
3/4 cup Dutch-Processed cocoa
5 tbsp cornstarch
2 oz dark chocolate, broken into pieces

Separate one cup of milk in a jug/bowl. Prepare a heatproof container for storing the pudding, and a piece of microwaveable wrap/parchment paper big enough to cover the contents of the container.

Meanwhile, sift the cocoa into a thick-bottomed saucepan large enough to hold all the milk. Add the sugar. Pour the remaining milk into the saucepan and slowly bring to the boil, whisking all the time to combine everything.

When the mixture starts bubbling slightly, add the cornstarch to the reserved jug of milk, whisking vigorously to remove lumps and pour the mixture into the milk-cocoa mixture. Toss in the dark chocolate chunks.

Continue whisking the mixture over medium heat until the mixture thickens into a custard-like texture. Off the heat, immediately transfer the mix into the container. Press the piece of wrap/parchment onto the mixture onto the top of the pudding mix - this prevents the forming of a skin. Let it cool, then transfer to the fridge.

Serve cold, with sliced bananas, or whipped cream, chopped/sliced almonds - whatever takes your fancy.

 

 



Super-easy low-fat high-calcium chocolate pudding in the making

Year end reflections

Today, on Monday 22nd of December 2014, I am on my annual leave. I managed to re-arrange my maid visit to the morning instead of the usual night session, and the maid who turned up turned out to be a little miracle. My home is shiny and clean and I bask in it, whilst the rain pours outside, the closest you'd get to winter in Malaysia in December. Boo is as usual all curled up on his blanket on the sofa.

This time of year, before the family reunion, after the feast with friends, amidst the gift preparations (just delivered some homemade XO sauce, granola and freshly baked vanilla butter cake with relatives yesterday), I manage to sneak in moments of reflection, thought and above all, gratitude.

Work has been very much a pain at times, but I am grateful all the same for the opportunity to contribute, to collaborate, for the means to live the life we want.

For my funny family. My dad and mum who adorably whatsapped their entire day itineraries whilst on vacation, for my brothers, with whom I swap ideas for Christmas presents for the 'rents, and the first people I told (other than the husband of course) when I first discovered I was pregnant. And the shared joy once I announce the gender of the baby.

For our Boo, who as of this year has been with us for 8 joyous, laughter filled years. Boo who cannot seem to lose weight despite starting his low fat diet, Boo who would come in between us and meow loudly/drop and roll his fat self on the floor when we argue, as if to distract us or tell us to stoppit, Boo who hogs pillows. Boo who loves house guests and will sit on their lap/rub himself against them/tag along house tours, no matter if the guest welcomes it or not. Boo who spends quiet weekend mornings with mama while she relaxes with her morning drink. Boo who immediately comforts his papa when he slipped down the stairs. Boo, without whom our home life would not be complete.

For the husband and our growing little family. For the husband who can't wait for the arrival of his daughter. The husband who gives the best career/work advice. Whom I force to tuck me in and adjust my maternity pillow when I go to bed. The husband who makes a mean hot chocolate, who gives in to almost everything I ask for (boy am I going to be sorry this pregnancy will soon come to an end). Who assembled the baby stroller the day we bought it. Who just can't wait to be a daddy.

And to our little one. I wrote this during my lunch break some time ago, and shall leave it as is -  a moment when my feelings were captured in words.

I think I finally get it.

The way I see it, pregnant mothers are divided into two camps – the mushy, I feel so connected, glowy  group and the poor long-suffering one . I think I finally figured out which one I belong to.
The baby kicks and rolls. She kicks and jabs during my meetings, and sometimes it's all I can do to sit there with a straight face, trying not to jump/wiggle from the sudden discomfort. Sometimes I feel that she does it when I am most agitated, as if she is trying to distract me. Or even that she is trying to get me to speak out more.

She somersaults during my shopping walks, causing me sometimes to pause and grab my belly - just to be sure everything is still OK.

When I am alone, as I was in the past two weeks during the evenings in the hotel after my work in the fabrication yard, she makes sure her presence is felt.

It's just so awesome. More than awesome - I feel like a mum. A mum. I confess, I’m still not sure if mum and me are a fit.

Now, almost every night, I lay in bed and expose my belly, and watch the bump rock and jiggle, and laugh.

So yes, I finally get it. I hardly think about whether I will get back to my pre-pregnancy size anymore. Instead I worry about her nutrition, whether I will be able to breastfeed her, whether whatever I am putting in my mouth, or physical activity I do, will affect her.

My mum's Awesome Chicken Wings

The most awesome recipe for the most addictive wings, courtesy of my culinary genius mum.

It all started when my dad, anxious about his upcoming stint alone when I deliver (my mum plans to come stay with us for one month once baby is born), decided that he absolutely needed an air fryer to cook meals for himself while my mum's away.

So of course they got one pronto, and mum started experimenting with it. We tried air frying potato chips (they turn soggy very fast once out the fryer), and my mum also tried frying some other stuff.

The other day she sent me a picture of the wings she made and they looked so good, I thought of re-creating them for our Christmas gathering. And they were such a hit - the first item to finish (well after the guacamole)! And the guests sang praises of them. My only regret is I didn't make more.



Gotta love her

As you can see she didn't really give precise measurements. I took note of what I used and how much, so here goes:

Recipe for 20 wings

20 chicken wings (with drummets)
A little peanut oil

Marinade:
-  1 cup light soy sauce
-  3-4 large shallots, peeled, quartered and crushed lightly
-  6 large cloves garlic, peeled and crushed lightly
- 3 tbsp worcestershire sauce
- 1 tbsp red pepper flakes
- 1 tbsp each garlic and onion powders
- 4 tbsp soft brown sugar

Pat dry the wings. Combine the marinade ingredients in a ziploc bag large enough to fit all the wings, else divide into 2 bags. Marinate the wings overnight, refridgerated

Preheat oven to 180 deg C. Remove the wings from the marinade and let them sit and come to room temperature, about 30minutes. Pat them dry again with paper towels. You will need a roasting pan with a rack. Line the pan with foil (trust me you will want to do this as the sugar in the marinade will be your undoing), place the rack on, place the wings on the rack.

Roast for 20-30 minutes. I removed them after 20 minutes and re-arranged then to ensure each wing was sufficiently golden/dark brown and glossy.




Don't you wish???

 

Celebration!!

It's December, my favourite time of the year!

I bought a large tree (after, like 3 trips to 3 different malls), and went for (I'd like to believe) a silver, gold and winter theme with icicles, silver balls and translucent angel wings. Unfortunately I broke 2 icicles, and the weekly maid another 3 :(. Note to self: Perhaps it's not such a good idea to buy glass ornaments. Next year will get another set of lights and more ornaments, so the tree doesn's look so bald.

We hosted a Christmas gathering amongst colleagues/friends, with a heated gift exchange that included steals and bargains, and then played Taboo.

I ordered a turkey from Hank's Fine Foods. Ordering was a bit of a hassle in the beginning, but the turkey turned out pretty good actually - moist and tasty white meat! Such a rarity. I made my own mushroom gravy to go with as well - pretty easy. Caramelize chopped onions, then add chopped mushrooms (I used portabellos and brown mushrooms) and saute. I soaked dried porcini in hot water, then strained the mushroom liquid and finely sliced in the porcini for extra umph. Grate in a clove of garlic, leave to simmer for 20 minutes. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Voila.

Some other things I made:

- My guacamole, which our prep crew took to snacking on before the party started, and finished waaay too early. I should've made more! Next time next time.

- Mushroom pasta. Saute sliced brown and portabello mushrooms in olive oil, add chopped garlic. Let the mushrooms cook down. Add cooked pasta and a bit of the pasta water. I used about 5 cups of sliced mushrooms to one 400 g packet of spaghetthi. Toss over low heat, then add lots of freshly grated parmesan. I used my large oval Le Creuset to cook the mushrooms and toss the pasta with, and then as a serving vessel. Just before serving, sprinkle with freshky chopped parsley.

- My mum's awesome chicken wings, which is the subject of another post. They went down so fast I didn't even get to eat any!

- Early grey jelly with oranges and pomengrenate seeds

- Fudgy brownies using my favourite recipe

Some lessons I learnt on hosting:-

1) Get friends involved. We had one friend who was a general helper, helping to chop, slice, basically do anything I wanted doing. Another friend made his delicious rocket and avocado salad with olive and balsamic dressing, and artfully arranged the crudites in glass jars you see below. Yet another guy offered to make his Mojitos (virgin ones for me and another pregnant guest), which got the party started pretty nicely. You don't have to do it all yourself - and since our friends were guests as well, there was plenty of joking and mingling way before the party even started proper.

2) Prep as much as you can beforehand - I sliced my mushrooms, marinated my wings and made the gravy the night before. I also made desserts the night before. The day itself - roasted the wings, made the pasta and guacamole. With my friends around to lend a hand, this was easy and we had plenty of time to drink mojitos and snack on aforementioned chips and guacamole before everyone else arrived.

3) More is better than less! I would've liked to make more pasta, more guacamole, more wings - they went down so fast! And maybe order a ham. Again, something to keep in mind for next year

All in all, it was a good night. I know hosting something of the like is going to be a challenge next year with the baby and everything, but I'd love to make it an annual tradition. We'll see.

My precious gifts under my gold and silver tree - Boo's like, "Whatcha doin under MY tree??"

Turkey and "stuffing" from Hank's, homemade mushtoom gravy (in the large glass bowl), salad and mushroom pasta (left, partly visible only)

Our staircase - note that my Yogja skull has his Santa hat on!

Turkey from Hank's Fine foods - surprisingly tasty white meat. I would order this again.

The most artfully arranged crudites by our friend (veggies to be eaten with bought cheese dips), homemade guacamole with corn chips.

Mushroom Pasta

Boo staking his place under the tree again

Group photo of the night

Five months, and I'm wondering

The belly decided to show itself in full force in Month Number Six! And let's not go into details about my worst fear - arse expansion. For someone who used to be in complete control of her body, I find all of this to be new and terribly frightening. Pants that used to hang on me can't fit anymore. What if they never fit me again?? The horror!

But she's kicking, people! And squirming and doing somersaults. At least, that's what it feels like sometimes. We don’t know for sure if she’s a she, but we know she’s growing well, has developed a healthy spine, and – as all the lab tests show – is showing no indications of slowing down. 

Work has been a little crazy - so much management attention on this not so little project I'm in, especially in the space I'm responsible for.

I have had to remind myself not to get too negative at times. I’ve also subconsciously taken a step back sometimes in terms of my emotional investment in my work, because I was worried I was letting the pressure get to me and it would affect the pregnancy.

And this bothers me.

 

I have always been emotionally invested about my work – to me that’s part and parcel of my success so far. How does one put 101% and go the distance, otherwise? Work takes up most of my waking hours, and – whether I like to admit it or not - defines my very person. I (still) am ambitious and I make no apologies for it.

And so I've been thinking a lot about Sheryl Sandberg and Marissa Mayer.

Today I declined going to the construction site - not because I can't, but because I thought it was an unnecessary risk for me, my baby and the company to take.

Now I am wondering if it was the right thing to do. Sheryl Sandberg writes about "Leaning In", and not leaving the table until you've actually left the table. Did I just leave the table?

The construction site

It didn't start out like that, for sure. When I first discovered I was pregnant, I was determined to continue Leaning In. In my first trimester I travelled almost every week. I made it a point to put on my coveralls and visit the construction site, climbing over scaffolding and dodging heavy loads. I would always utter a prayer of thanks when I boarded the plane back home. It took enough from me to get through normal office days, much less athose that began before sun-up with a red eye flight and ending with me reaching home well after my first trimester bedtime. But I endured it all, for fear of missing out.

 

I have/would never call myself a feminist. I just want equal opportunity and no special treatment. I have seen some so-called career women manipulate terrified PC bosses into allowing them to deliver (as in work) practically nothing at to take days off at every whim and fancy - at the expense of their (mostly male and single female) co-workers. I have vowed never to be one of those women. I will  carry my own weight (in addition to the baby one - haha).

Look at the women people who condemned Marissa Mayer when she announced her plan to take just a few weeks off work (and work remotely during all that time off). As one of the commentators in this dialogue remarked “She has a legal obligation to maximize corporate profits for her shareholders. She’s not gotten to where she is today by forgetting her duties as a CEO.” I think that hit the nail on the head. I sometimes think that women forget that there is a job to be done. The world doesn’t stop because you have a baby. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. There is a business to be run and you are (or were) just one of the cogs in that gigantic machine.

 

But then again, maybe it's not that simple. There's a definite slowdown I feel in myself. Chalk it up to pregnancy exhaustion, or hormones, or just the fact that there's a little person inside of me who will be totally dependent on me and I need to be thinking more of her and less of everything else.

 

I guess there's no easy, straightforward answers - except to make as much time as possible, get help, and top fretting the small things (translation: our house is a lot messier than it used to be)

In the meantime, I shall give thanks for the fact that we can afford to hire a helper; that all signs point to AK wanting to be a hands-on dad; that our parents are so supportive and ever ready to lend a hand. I don't think I could ask for anything more. In the meantime I've re-started my early morning routines to try and catch some exercise time (to avoid the backaches that start appearing once I stop), so I can work late with the exercise part done for the day.

There's only so much you can prepare for really, mentally and otherwise. I will just have to navigate my wildly swinging feelings towards my child and my career. Onward to the unknown!

Pregnancy Joy

One of my friends, who has a two year-old and just delivered her second, encouraged me to document my thoughts and feelings throughout my pregnancy.

There's so much talk and information online on pregnancy hormones, antenatal depression, etc, etc. I don't know.

All I feel is happy.

I just feel so incredibly blessed right now. I get offered little tips and anecdotese from young mums all round the office pouring in, my parents constantly calling to check on how I feel, friends we go out with so eager to accomodate where I want to eat.

Most of all, my husband has been so incredibly supportive and downright joyful that we're finally getting the child he longs for so much, it's infectious. I think our cat has caught onto his excitement, I kid you not.

Sure, there's still fear, from the superficial (how am I going to get by on less than 7 hours of sleep at night) to world-weary (just look at the spate of bad news - child abuse, kidnappings, racial intolerance, ISIS - why would I want to bring a child into this kind of world? How do I protect her?).

But there's also excitement, and the feeling of growing and infinite love, that it will be more than OK in the end.