It's all about bodily functions these days

Yes, I am an experienced parent with a healthy and happy (most times, when she's not busy refusing food or resisting potty training) two and an half year old. I've gone through the change, feed, burp, walk to sleep routines of taking care of a new born aplenty. But three-weeks-old Lauren is reminding me of the amazing effects a baby have on one's daily life that I've conveniently forgotten when awaiting her.
Such as the amount of laundry I need to do. One little person, and all of a sudden, our laundry has tripled due to, say, the four-shirt night during which her spit up soaked through four T-shirts of mine. Or the morning that I had to launder every piece of fabric in the bathroom because, after an "Oh my gosh did she just shoot poop that far?" incident, I found myself saying "Holly Batman! How did the poop get there?" at every turn in the bathroom.
There's also the number of wipes and diapers that we consume. I think new diapers evokes, in a baby, the urge to go. Numerous times would I be putting a fresh diaper on Lauren when all of a sudden, liquids and more surge forth. If I'm lucky, I'd have contained it within that wasted diaper. If not, here's another reason why the laundry pile keep growing. Speaking of diaper changing, I cannot help but have to mention the time when, stripped naked and poised over her bath water, she managed to pee on and on and on and on, pulling a Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own, creating a little puddle at my feet. And that is after getting half of my shirt and jeans wet. How much water can a little baby hold? Apparently a lot.
Little baby Lauren, she never seizes to amaze me. Most amazing of all is how she, like her sister, makes my heart ache with love simply by being here. She need not do much, but just gaze up with her big eyes, a little frown upon her brows, and I melt. Such is the power of a child.

Bringing Lauren here

How did I ever forget the pain of delivering a baby? How could the memory of contractions that threatens to overwhelm one's body and will, or the terrible burning sensation that promises to rip your body apart if you push any iota more become so vague and distant until it is time to do it all over again?

10/14/2009, we checked into the hospital at 8am to induce baby Lauren.
It took 3 tries for the nurses to get an IV catheter into my supposedly delicate and tiny yet useless when it comes to catheters vein, and the Pictocin drip was finally started around 10:30am.

The contractions never build up much from the Pitocin. I keep waiting for the contraction to intensify, telling my body that I could take more, just BRING IT ON ALREADY, but it never did. At 7:30pm, I was still at 4cm, 80% effaced, and +1 station, only 1cm more dilated before the drip. The doctor broke my water.

At 8:30pm, all ability to control facial muscle through the pain was lost. On the pain scale of 0 to 10, it's a 10, no question about it. If there's any pain beyond what I was feeling, I pray no one needs to feel it. The doctor and the nurse were called in to consult on medical options to ease the suffering. The anesthesiologist was in a surgery, I was told, so epidural was out. How about something to take off the edge? I was at the peak of the transitional period, but still have 2cm to go. "Would it get any worse?" I asked the doctor in a puny voice. Probably not from the contraction, she said, but pushing would be a different kind of pain. Would I want anything to help me through the delivery? Um... Yes, please. The doctor discussed with nurse on what I should be given. The nurse turned to go, and I halted everyone by uttering the magic word "pressure!" That was 8:35pm. I was ready to give birth.

8:59pm, Lauren was born. The little girl came fast and furious. For all the waiting and anticipating, it's still hard to believe that she is now finally here. It is hard to believe how such a big change in all our lives could arrive so swiftly and happen so matter-of-fact-ly. The earth of my world quaked and restructured itself, mountains moved and oceans surged, but no one outside the hospital room noticed. And now after the searing pain, I have a little sticky, bloody, and wondrous little human being so tiny and fragile in my arms finally here for us to love. The adventure of life continues.

Note: The doctor and nurses commented on how great I did, which I don't understand. Was there a different way to do it? The baby was coming, I couldn't stop it. There was no "let's all take five"; no "here Michael, it's your turn, take over"; no "I quit". I had to push, and so I did. What other options were there? Yes, I did it all naturally. But don't forget, I really didn't have a choice. Any mother would need to go through what I had gone through in order to become a mother, no? More power to the mothers!

A family of four

When I went to pick the little girl up on Monday, the teacher showed me the family portrait that Evelyn made. On a sheet of paper, she glued on four paper cut out figures to depict her family: one woman, one man, and two children on the side one right next to the other, as if holding hands. The teacher asked her to identify the figures, and, after much prompting because she's not voluntarily speaking to the adults yet, Evelyn told the teacher that the second children is "my sister." "Is it really a girl?" the teacher asked me. "Yes," I answered as I stood mesmerized by this simple, plain picture. The inclusion of her little sister made me incredibly proud and happy. It shows how well Evelyn understands what is to come. My growing belly is not just an at times inconvenient phenomenon, and baby sister is not just a noun in conversations or a kiss/hug on my belly. She knows that baby sister is about to come into the world, stay, and be a the newest member of our family. That she will have a new person to care and love, play and fight with. That we will go from a family of three to a family of four. Seeing how she already perceives baby sister as an integral part of our family touches me so. I have an amazing daughter.