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#so truly if i wake up and this is literally the most horrid thing ive written in my life please forgive me
amvro · 4 months
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pairing: amuro tooru x reader
summary: he is home late (again) but you love to stay up for him
cw: i would not say suggestive but a lot of kissing implied ? IDK IM SORRY, it’s very short
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It wasn’t rare for you to be staying up waiting for him to come home, but tonight he was especially late coming home and he truly did not expect you to still be up. The clock almost ticked 3:30am and he truly wished he didn’t have to stay out so late if he knew you would still be up. He was going to ask why you were still up and tell you about how you should’ve just slept without him, but he knew you would tell him you would be too worried to fall asleep regardless. 
“I’m so sorry I was so late,” he said, apologetically. “But really, next time you shouldn’t mind me. It’s far too late.”
“And it’s far too late for you to be out with no one to greet you when you come home,” you replied with a soft smile. Gosh he was in love with you. “Waiting for you to come home is one of my happiest times, at least let me do this much. Besides, it’s a Friday we get to sleep in tomorrow.”
And you were absolutely correct. Although he’d tell you every single time to go ahead and sleep, it still warmed his heart when he saw you reading a book or scrolling through your phone with a warm tea, waiting for him to come home. The way your face would brighten up when he came home was truly the only thing that could heal him from a long day at work.
“I’ll hop in the shower real quick, so go to sleep okay? It’s still not good to be up this late,” he said as he took off his coat and put his stuff down, getting ready to step into the bathroom.
“Wait,” you said, almost subconsciously.
“What is it, love?”
“Oh, um,” you said, you hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You looked up at him slightly embarrassed. “....kiss?”
A faint blush covered his face as his eyes narrowed and lips pursed. He did not understand how you managed to make his heart flutter from such simple words after all this time, but he did understand that this wasn’t going to go away. He walked right back to you and pressed a kiss on your lips. He was going to kiss you again when he resisted the temptation and kissed you on your forehead instead. 
“Why not?” you asked quietly. You were going to kill him if you kept this up.
“Because I’m not going to be able to stop at this rate,” he said, but you went and kissed him instead.
“But I don’t want you to...” you said. That was it, he was giving in. Saving the country was a whole lot easier of a challenge than the ones you gave him it seemed.
“Okay, now you’ve done it,” he said, kissing you again. 
The shower will have to wait a little. 
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irastayshome · 5 years
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Ibrahim's birth
Ibrahim arrived in this world on 21st January 2017. Back then, we were lucky to afford a doula because I was hella nervous about the whole birthing process and tbh my head wasnt in the game because of all the stress at work. After the 'hard part' was over, and as I held my son, I vividly remember my doula saying that the easy part was over and the hard part of being a parent has just begun. I thought it was a joke at the time because, well, what could be harder than pushing a 3 kg baby out of your vagina? 2 yrs and 6mths on, I have mentally kicked myself in the head for taking my doula's words lightly. These days, I consider it a win when I do not raise my voice or completely lose my sh** and raise my hands at my son. I keep needing reminders of what it took to get him into this world and the many moments we failed him along the way so that I do not be complacent and mistreat him.
So I thought I might write his birth story down after all. Didn't really wanna remember all the details of something that feels rather insignificant now, but some days at home are just rough and a good reminder is useful.
*
19 January 2017. I had been on maternity leave for a week, but only just completed my case transfers from home. My mamamia had been insisting that I sleep over her place once a week for the last trimester on Hasyali's night shifts. I didnt mind at all, because my r/s with my parents have improved significantly after moving out. Distance is truly necessary sometimes.
It finally dawned upon me that I was due in a week. Being last minute as I always am, I tried to 'catch up' on the squats that my doula/birth educator had been reminding us to do at 9 pm. But really, i was just doing it for fun cause like it would make any difference at 39 weeks, esp since ive been treating my body like crap while handing over my work the last few weeks. Planned to youtube more exercises to speed up labour etc etc but fell into the rabbit hole of "natural birth positions" and "painfree birth vlogs" and before I knew it, I was hooked on the Midwives yt tv series till i fell asleep at 5 am. Damn youtube.
20th January 2017. 7 am. Felt like I ate something so bad and had to do a big one. And so I did, groggily, and went back to sleep. Feeling so smug that I could finally sleep in on a weekday. 9 am. What is going on with my bowels??? Tried to recall what I ate last night, but dont care just sleep after the business. 10.30 am. Sat up and mentally admitted that those horrid pains at the bottom of my tummy could actually be contractions! Trying to keep cool, I ate breakfast quickly, trying to mask my ronyok face each time the tightenings came by because nyayi was there and I just did not wanna tell my family. pretty sure they would have shipped me off to the hospital immediately.
Took cab back at 12.30pm and smsed hubs about the contractions, saying it could potentially be the real thing. But not sure, so I timed them in the cab. 10 mins apart. regular. oh crap its happening. Got home, discovered the bloody show. So yup i got my confirmation. Smsed hubs a photo of it but told him to just take it easy, go solat Jumaat and just slowly pack his bag aftee. He just got off his night shift so he probably hasnt slept at all. Told doula Kak Hajjar about whats going on, and was advised to just relax and walk2 until i cant talk anymore from the pain. Hubs came back, and i took off on a birth walk alone around the estate. Every few mins, I just stopped and breathed deeply, sorely regretting not pestering my hubs to come along bcoz adoi sakit and nothing to squeeze or hold on to. and in the 3 pm sun no less.
Came back, started panicking when i realised hubs belum pack!! what is it with men and last minute packing?? feeling annoyyed bcoz im about to do some serious work but he cant even get started on packing. but ok takpe, got in the shower to cool down and to relieve the pain while he packed. Contractions were now 4 mins apart, but I could still talk. NUH told me to come in now. Doula told me to wait till i cant talk. The kancong me decided to go anyway, worried about the rush hour jam on the start of a weekend.
Arrived at NUH at 6 pm, realising that id skipped lunch. I was hungry, and oh no so damn sleepy bcoz i barely slept the night before! Damn youtube. Ate mr bean pancake with hubs. Met doula who told.me i dont look like its time bcoz i could talk and joke about. I admit i secretly thought that it was because i had a high tolerance for pain hahahaha joke. Entered the delivery ward at 7 pm, was 4 cm dilated. Yay! but wait what, all that pain and only 4 cm? oh no.
So began the longest night of my life. Doulla massaged my back and did hip squeezes through contractions, and I occasionally swayed while standing with hubs. These two were just incredible birth partners. My labour pains were rough at the front, but damn the back labour pains were friggin insane! Felt like maybe I had tentacles trying to burst out of my spine and turn into Doc Ock.
At some point, i remember just saying random supplications and feeling so regretful that i had not rehearsed what selawats I wanted to read in those moments bcoz my head was really jammed up trying to manage the pain. By 3 am my body felt like it had gone through a marathon and i really did fall asleep between contractions out of sheer exhaustion. It was exhausting to just tahan the pain.
By 4 ish am (hazy on the details by now), a VE confirmed I was 9 cm dilated. At this point I was already vomitting and my head hurt so much from tahaning the pain. I remembered thinking, or maybe even saying out loud, that I wanted them to cut the baby out. Im pretty sure I was transitioning at that point but I didnt know bcoz my mind was too panicky. They told me the head was still too high to push, so they offered to burst my waterbag, but said theres no assurance it would bring the head down but wld certainly intensify the contractions. I was pretty sure I would pass out if they intensified, out of exhaustion. and never mind that I was barely able to wake up btwn contractions due to my flu and fever (yes ARGH hate flu during labour). So I refused and waited for news that im fully dilated.
6 am. Still at 9 cm. My head was thinking "how long did Kak Hajjar say transitions lasted again?? takkan lama gini??" This time, my mental strength just gave way. I screamed for an epidural. I remember feeling so terrified that my baby would be stuck while im pushing, because I had zero energy left. Fatigued from the pain and the fever, I pleaded for an epidural again n again. I rmbr my doula, my husband, the nurses all giving me such kind words of support, saying ive gone si far and am at the last lap, and encouraged me to stick to my birth plan of going without medication. But I was too defeated by exhaustion and just wanted to sleep. Hahahaha. Like i literally said "yang, i nak tido" and started to cry.
So they called in the anesthesiologist (dunno the spelling). While he prepped the long-ass needle, I felt a huge gush of warm water down there. My waters broke. At this point I could have just waited for the head to descend, but I was too tired and looking forward to a promised 2 hour rest before pushing. So I kept quiet about it. I was in tears, out of disappointment at myself for not being able to ride out the exhaustion. But my doula was so kind and reminded me that God is the best of planners, and perhaps this was the way for me to achieve a natural birth still and avoid any emergency csection if I could not push. The nurses too were angels, and kept assuring me I had tried really hard for a long time and shouldn't beat myself up. And so I slept. That was the best 2 hour sleep of my life. pretty sure I snored and drooled, in the presence of my doula. Nak kata paiseh but nah I was too tired to care, and all modesty had left the room hours ago.
8 am. Woken up by cheerful nurses who told me it was time to start pushing. I just wanted to sleep in longer, but then I remembered oh ya baby is still inside. That epidural was gooooood. So began pushing. It felt so weird pushing when I cant feel anything moving down there. They had to tell me when to push i.e. when contractions came, and kept telling me I was pushing wrong and i had to do it as how i would when pooping. I suddenly didnt know how pooping felt like anymore. Kept pushing for an hour plus, but apparently the head keeps going back in. My husb and I had affectionately named our foetus "jubjub", just to avoid calling it the baby during the pregnancy. and my doula joked that perhaps the baby keeps going back in bcoz we named him jubjub like the muppet from Hi-5 that likes to peekaboo around. haha that was a good one.
My gynae finally came in around 9.30 am ish. She told me that I had to do an episiotomy to help push the baby out. My husband stopped her and told her to let me continue trying. But eventually she kept persisting and my husband apparently could not tahan seeing me push so hard anymore (he said the veins on my face look like they were gonna burst). So he agreed. The moment she cut, I pushed and felt the head empty out of me. I thought that was weird cause I was on epidural, but apparently they reduced the dose while pushing. A few more pushes later, I heard it. Ibrahim's first cries. The nurses and my doula congratulating me. My husband telling me I did it and he was proud of me. But mainly, Ibrahim's cries. 21st January 2017, at 10.03am.
They placed him on my chest. I cried. and cried. And i thought he was the most perfect thing I could ever hold in this world.
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Dearest Ibrahim, a mother can love her husband out of choice, but theres simply no choice in this love I have for you. It is so raw and intense and relentless, that Im so consumed by it from the moment I held you. There are days, now, when I feel your anger towards me because I am so hard on you, especially since im not very good at coping with the two of you. But I hope you never feel that I love you any less when I get angry. and I hope you truly forgive me when you give me a hug after I apologise each time for beating you. You deserve so much better, and i'll keep striving to be a better mother to you and adik.
Ok bye. Am gonna cry my eyes out now. Damn birth stories.
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