Yesterday, I had the chance to finally wash my hair and lather my body. The Chinese confinement month wasn’t over, but since mum said ok, as long as I finish up with the herbal bath, I went ahead. While in the shower, as I started to get all emo as I looked down at my now empty stomach. What used to be a round ball, has been replaced with a 20cm wound and a bit of flabs. I started to cry… because I missed our shower routine which I started sometime near the end of 2nd trimester. Then, Little Foot inside my belly would start fidgeting when the shower water reached my tummy, and I would sing her Itsy Bitsy Spider together with some hand movements over the tummy to calm her down. Now, there’s no need to sing Itsy Bitsy Spider when I shower anymore, and the silence in the bathroom sure is deafening. I cried and sang the song one last time… to the empty bathroom.

Little Foot still loves the song when I sing it to her. I am hoping that she subconsciously remembers it, and all the other little routines I have created for her when I was expecting her.

This deep sense of detachment from baby after delivery, I think only mummies can tell you how it feels. I used to be like “ok, I can’t wait to get her out”, but now I wish, I just wish, we were going for our dates together again, whether it was a walk to the MRT station, a shopping trip down at Orchard, or taking a car ride or watching The Voice together.

9.5 months felt really long when going through it but now, I am thankful that I had all that time with my baby exclusively. Long consoled me yesterday, and also kindly said, “you can’t hog baby…gotta share with us!”

I’m thankful for an understanding husband… Thankful that this is the only kind of post-natal emotions that I have… no depression, no anger. God has been kind to us.

And now, baby is 8 days old.  I’m a proud mummy, sharing the photo of her smile I managed to capture this morning.

Love my little family to bits.