Project Baby Week 40 +1: Julien's Debut

As I plodded towards week 40 with Julien wriggling and hiccupping inside me, labour and delivery was nowhere in sight. In fact, after the false alarm in week 38 when I had serious contractions which landed me in hospital for a night, I was in heightened anticipatory mode as my doctor put me on medical leave for a week. Alas, the baby was not going to make an appearance before EDD -- 19th May.

So on Thursday, 19 May, Daniel and I got our paperwork and hospital bag ready and walked the 8 minutes (pregnant walking speed) from our home to the hospital to see Dr Chieng, hopefully, I thought, today would be THE day. 

It turned out that Baby was still happily floating in his watery world with no signs of impending labour. The water level was decreasing, said the doc, so he offered us an inducement. I would have to check into hospital and wait for the pill to coax my stubborn cervix open.

So after I was admitted (they gave me my own double room because they were out of singles and I informed the front desk there was no way I was sharing a room with a potential snorer - happened last time and I got no sleep at all), I was strapped to this baby here which monitors the fetal heartbeat and my contractions.

 Dr Chieng came at 1pm to stick the pill up my vagina -- not pretty -- but it didn't hurt half as much as the cervical check. The wait began.

At 7pm I felt a few twinges in my lower abdomen, the same kind as that of my false labour, the twinges on the right side were especially stronger. It felt like a series of very strong cramping. I watched TV as Daniel took photos. I was sure labour would not begin till much later in the night since everyone told me it takes an average of 1 day, even 2 after the pill was inserted.

9:00pm: In the labour ward and waiting for my Pethidine injection.

By 8:15, the contractions were up to 100 and I was wriggling around in my bed trying not to get upset. The midwife came to check my cervix (this would irritate even a saint, not that they would know what it feels like to have your pussy invaded by two groping fingers trying to reach God Almighty himself). Barely 1.5cm! By now the nurses were all keen to get me down to the labour ward where I could get "something for the pain". Apparantly labour pain management is something the hospital is keen to offer patients. After some moaning and groaning, I agreed to go to the labour ward but I wanted only the Pethidine. No epidural for me if I could help it.

2:00 am: Left - Baby's heartbeat; Right - contraction

I felt better after the pethidine jab and settled down to sleep. Daniel had made himself comfortable in his reclining chair next to my bed.  All we could do then was wait. By 5am the contractions had subsided and I was no longer in much pain. It could be the pethidine, but I didn't want anyone checking me again unless it was absolutely necessary. Too late, the midwife from last time (the one who gave me the flu) checked me and I almost had the baby then and there, the stinging pain was awful, it was like she had the hands of a steel miner. I demanded a cup of ice for my vagina.

Daniel's bed for the night

By 6.30am I had the sinking feeling that this baby was not coming. I woke Daniel and we talked about our options. Did we want to try another inducement and wait another day (or longer), or go for the C-section? I had been adamant that I would not go C-section unless it was an emergency -- the cost would also be triple that of a normal birth -- and the thought of being sliced open gave me the creeps. Then again, I did not want to wait any longer or go through even worse pain (in addition to the actual labour itself) to deliver this baby. 

At 8.30am, Dr Chieng came to give me my options. Thankfully, no cervical probe.  One: he could break my ater bag but labour would be long and arduous -- no thanks, I said, after seeing the blunt instrument he would use which looked like a primitive wooden kebab skewer. Two: We could try another pill to induce labour, and this would be anything between a few hours and another day. I looked at Daniel and it seemed we had both come to the same conclusion: C-section.

"Okay then!" the doctor said cheerfully. "Let's schedule C-section for 2pm today."  To Daniel's dismay, Dr Chieng added that he could be in the operating theatre too.  "Oh okay!" he said with a nervous laugh.

And so that was that. In 6 hours, we would have a baby.

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9am: I had to fast until surgery, no food or water. As Daniel started to prepare his post-baby sms draft to our friends, I lay on my bed - still strapped to the beeping maching - and let the reality of our decision sink in. How did I feel? Dr Chieng had been concerned that I would regard C-section as a failure on my part to deliver naturally.  I assured him I felt no such thing. My only trepidation was being under local anaesthesia while he cut me open. I had seen a live C-section on Discovery Channel some years ago and believe me, grossed out is an understatement of what it looked like. My consolation was Daniel would be there with me (not really much of a consolation since he seemed even more reluctant to be in there amidst the action) and I would have my baby out in 20 minutes.

12pm: The nurse came in to shave me -- ugh, why hadn't I just scheduled this operation and get waxed a day before?

12.15pm: From next door came the sounds of wailing -- somebody was giving birth without an epidural it seemed. We looked at each other and laughed. Would I have wanted that?

12.30pm: The wailing woman sounded like she was giving birth to an elephant. The midwife and doctor were shouting at her to push. I paced about nervously in my hospital gown.

1pm: I was given some medication for my stomach. Next door, I heard the cries of a baby. My gurney was already parked outside.

1.25pm: I hopped onto my gurney and they wheeled me into the operating theatre. Daniel had to go someplace else to change into his scrubs. I was parked in the "waiting area" so the nurse could take my information. I declined to watch TV -- who could watch TV right now?  Next to me, another nurse in scrubs said cheerily, "Don't worry, I had 4 children, all by C-section!"  I didn't feel better since I was just having the one baby.

1.40pm: I was in Operating Theatre 2 and several nurses (1 male) hoisted me onto the operating table. From my perspective, the place looked like a sanitised butcher shop with the bright round lights above me. The anaesthesiologist plugged the epidural into me like he was doing the laundry. "Roll up tighter, tighter! Your spine is too straight, curl up! It will hurt less." The male nurse helped squeeze me into a calamari shape and I held my breath as I felt something inserted into my spinal cord. All this while the anaesthesiologist was going on about somebody who had transferred to some other hospital. Focus on my damn spine and where you're putting that big-ass needle! "Okay, do you feel numb-numb in your legs? Should be numb-numb!" I still felt my legs damnit! The needle in my left shoulder was killing me but before I could complain I felt a wave of nausea. The doctor would give me a total of 3 jabs to contain the nausea throughout the surgery.

2pm: [Well, I think it might have been 2pm because Daniel said he only entered the OT at 2.15pm] I felt the pins and needles in my legs and soon I felt like I could fall asleep. It was a strange feeling: I could still feel the surface of my skin being touched but as if the stimulus was buffered by a great big spongey wall so I felt no sensation, only movement.  My doctor came into the room and then I saw Daniel in scrubs and a mask. He sat on my right, but he had to duck below the curtain they had put up to shield me from the butchering so he wouldn't see too much gore.

2.20: I felt the first slice. It was u-n-r-e-a-l.  No pain, just cut, cut, pull, pull. I was feeling really high and drowsy but was cognisant of the murmuring, the clinking of instruments, beeping and people moving next to me and behind me. Daniel held my right hand tightly and told me what was going on. I guess he decided to peep after all.

2.25: They must have gone quite deep by now because I was feeling more sensation closer to my buffer zone of numbness. I took deep breaths and squeezed Daniel's hand as I felt even more pulling and pushing. The doctor mumbled something and the anesthesiologist positioned himself behind me. What on earth..... Daniel sounded like he was 10 feet away when he said, "Babe, there's the head!"

2.30: The two men behind me bent over my curtain and started heaving my belly forward. "They're pushing him out!" Daniel sounded excited and grossed out at the same time. I squeezed my eyes shut. The amount of pulling and pushing going on disturbingly close to my bladder felt like they were overhauling a carburator rather than taking out a baby. I was getting anxious as I could hear Dr Chieng hmm-ing and huh-ing. From far away I could hear him say, "Okay push...." and the two guys behind me heaved on my tummy like there was no tomorrow.

2.33: "Okay, he's out!" Dr Chieng announced. He said something else but I could only hear, "...what a little giant!"  and then the cries. I don't know why but tears ran down my face. I felt exhausted even though I had only been lying there, but mostly I felt relieved. Daniel gasped in my ear, "Babe, he's crying!" and indeed our boy was yelliing at the top of his little lungs.  I imagine they were cutting his cord and cleaning him up, since Daniel later informed me that Baby looked like a pale shade of blue when he first popped out. In fact after the doctor got his head out, his shoulder got stuck and they had to do a rugby tackle on my belly too get the rest of him out.

Daniel gave me a kiss and told me he would go with Baby to get him weighed and tagged. No problem, I nodded weakly. I fell back into a swell of darkness with only the swishy, sucking sounds in the background as the vacuum and suction pumps started cleaning me out like a gutted fish.

Weight: 4284 kg/ 9 pounds 7 ounces; Length: 55 cm

Project Baby Week 40: No Bloody Show

It's the 40th week. Everybody has been asking me if he's here yet. Bets were taken of labour day and bets were lost. There has been literally no bloody show -- my cervix remains stubbornly shut and there is no sign of Julien except his wayward foot poking regulary out of my right side and his daily hiccups.

"You're really a 6 star hotel," said Bernice after I replied to her that Ju is still playing hide and seek. Bern's baby girl came at 37 weeks after inducement and an emergency c-section. At week 38 I went into false labour when I was hit by a series of intense contractions that got increasingly more painful over the hour. Daniel and I plodded to the hospital 5 minutes away, and I was strapped and monitored. Contractions were 5-6 minutes apart but not strong (even though i was suffering extreme discomfort) but it all faded away after I was checked by the bloody midwife when she stuck her fingers up my cervix. Nobody told me that having your cervix checked would be the most tortuous ordeal short of gang rape! It was all for nought, as it was firmly closed -- no dilation.  I was checked in overnight for observation. The next morning my doctor put me through another bout of medieval torture by giving me a membrane sweep.  I was not pleased.

So the only thing that came out of that experience was a bout of flu for Daniel and me, from the midwife who had attended to me that night. She had been snivelling nonstop for the whole 2 hours I was in the labour ward. I would say "Sorry ah, I have a flu!" is untenable in -- of all places -- a bloody labour ward!!! I was royally pissed off 3 days later when we came down with a cold and sore throat. Julien obviously had no intention of coming out that night and getting infected by a midwife harbouring an infectious virus. I registered my protest with my doctor last Saturday.

I will be 40 weeks along come Thursday. Daniel thinks I've had a miraculously smooth pregnancy. Aside from the false alarm, Julien has been the perfect foetus: his head is where it should be, his weight is what it should be, he's floating in all the amniotic fluid he could wish for and my cervix is holding him in tighter than a chastity belt. Even the doctor is impressed and said I could do nothing else but wait it out. Apparantly, I am not even at my maximum capacity! He was amazed that my skin hasn't yielded to stretch marks yet. More on that later.

So now all I do is sit on my couch under my beloved ceiling fan and try not to sweat while the temperature outside soars to 35 degrees every day.  For a week now my fingers have swelled to the size of small frankfurters and the joints feel arthritic.  My hands are as large as Daniel's and my feet have gone up to size 41. The pain in my hip joints are so bad that it takes me 10 seconds just to get up from a sitting position to standing and last night I had heartburn for a while. Sleep eludes me more and more after each bout of bladder-voiding at 4am. My dad has forbidden me to drive alone, since his nephew was born in his car on the way to hospital some 40 years ago.  I assured him that Julien is not going to fall out of me on the 2 minute drive to the hospital from my house.

I've never waiting longer for anything in my life, especially for an event that is as mysterious and unpredictable as labour.  I'm mentally prepared to suffer the pain, my aversion to it is just barely outweighed by my aversion to sweating another week at 72 kg.

Ready when you are.

History Is Made

The Workers' Party have taken Aljunied GRC from the PAP incumbents!

WP:   55%

PAP:  45%

They have also secured Hougang SMC despite new candidate Yaw Shin Leong taking over from LTK. He polled an even better result (+2%) than 2006.

WP:   65%

PAP:  35%

Joo Chiat almost went to the WP too, if not for the miserable 400 more votes that Charles Chong got. Interesting that 5000 voters did not show up to vote in Joo Chiat, all it took would have been 450 more swinging over to Yee Jenn Jong. A really close race, you wonder what's going on in Joo Chiat....

The last result of the night -- another historical event but a defeat this time -- Potong Pasir has fallen to the PAP after 27 years.

SPP:   49.64

PAP:  50.36%

From Yawning Bread

In the final tally, the Workers' Party took 6 seats and the other Opposition parties none. The PAP swept to Parliamentary majority once again, but with the shocking loss of 3 ministers (one a Foreign Minister) and a total vote share of ONLY 60.1%. This is down from 66.6% from 2006.  What a referendum on the PAP!

 The other point to note is the WP's decent showing of over 40% in East Coast, Joo Chiat and NSP's over 40% vote-share in Mountbatten as well as other districts in the East of Singapore.  It appears that the East has seen a turning of the tide against the ruling party, with Aljunied and Hougang leading the pack.

I believe this has to do with the middle class voting bloc as well as the presence and strategies of well-organised Opposition teams that have offered coherent messages and worked the ground. This is indeed the best showing by the Opposition parties since Independence. There will be sleepless nights for many people in the days to come.

No matter what happens after 8 May 2011, history has been made, the people have indeed spoken and the future remains to be seen. Many will mourn the loss of Potong Pasir, but the next General Elections in 2016 would perhaps signify a bona fide march toward a true democracy. Perhaps.

T minus 6 hours: The Swing-Voting Middle Class

It is almost 6pm Singapore time, and I reckon 6 hours away from the final count for Aljunied GRC, the battleground constituency which every citizen and every party - particularly PAP and WP - would be watching on tenterhooks with nailbiting intensity.

In my previous post I spoke briefly about the middle class, to which my parents (and probably I myself) belong.  We have lived the past 15 years in Joo Chiat and I have voted twice there. This year I find myself in Marine Parade GRC and of course, dumped in a political voting-quagmire because of the controversy of the PAP's choice of new candidates running in the travesty called the Group Representation Constituency, or GRC.

Yawning Bread did a brilliant post on the swing-voters that the Opposition desperately needs to convince to join their side of the fence. Voters in quadrants B (they are highly fearful and highly frustrated) and C (they are not fearful and have few frustrations) would critically swing precious votes over to the Opposition. YB has a point in that the Opposition rhetoric tend towards the emotional tapping of the highly frustrated voters of sector D who would vote for them anyway. There is little point in talking to sector A voters as they are highly fearful (of vote secrecy being un-secret, PAP reprisal and bogeyman scenarios and change in general in the political landscape).

From Yawning Bread

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Quadrant D: The Middle Class

I can only speak of what I am familiar with, and I offer some thoughts on the middle to upper middle-class which fall largely under the group which have few grouses (in terms of bread-and-butter issues and municipal wants like estate upgrading and public transport-services). This group would be generally less susceptible to fear-mongering as they are as educated (if not more) as the ruling party and have access to information.  Most importantly for this group, information and education makes them a more critical lot. I don't mean critical in terms of blind bias, I am referring to the ability to analyse information for its inherent logic, spot discrepancies and contradictions on issues. This ability is also inherent in voters from other classes and quadrants of course, but the Fear Factor or Frustration Factor might intervene in the equation and result in a different kind of decision making.

Some years ago, I had a conversation with an ex-colleague about Potong Pasir voters and why a majority had voted for Chiam See Tong, the opposition party MP a consistent 27 years running. What was it about Potong Pasir, was it the demography? Some kind of values the people have inherited or imbibed over the years? Chiam's charisma? We don't know, and nobody has really studied why Potong Pasir and later, Hougang, decided to throw their lot in with the other side despite all the sticks and carrots the ruling party has tried to hurl at them.

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You Can't Withhold From Me What I Don't Need

The PAP for the last couple of decades has used the same carrot-stick strategy of municipal upgrading (like lifts and sprucing up of housing estates and perhaps a metro station or line) to buy voters over.  This has been coupled effectively with two other strategies: first, a long-running campaign to discredit and disempower members of the Opposition they considered real threats and second, a similar type campaign of fear-mongering. The latter usually comes in the guise of doomsday rhetoric should Parliament fall into the incompetent and dastardly hands of the other parties. Of course their cause has been helped by the fact that fear as a tactical strategy is especially effective in a population that is largely less educated, working class and has less access to information. This has been the case from 1965 to the 1990s.

Not any longer.

I would say the tide has changed in that (1) the Opposition parties, particularly the Workers' Party have regrouped and become much more organised, coherent and strategic. This is likely due to the influx of talented (I use this word liberally) and well-educated members, whom I believe hail from the burgeoning middle class of Quadrant D. Carrying from this point, (2) the enlarged middle class and the fact that not an insignificant part of this class is aged 35 and below means we are not as stupid as we used to look to the PAP and more important: we have less to lose.

The PAP strategy is derived from the premise of Maslow's hierarchy of needs. Somewhere along the way, someone forgot to do a simple check on demographyy (rising middle class) and how this correlates to Maslow's hypothesis of their needs. Once your basic needs for shelter, food and a reasonably good standard of living (by this I refer to the consumerist society) are met, your next need would be for political and civic freedoms unless you are a complete idiot or perenially stuck at age 22.

People whose incomes exceed the national household median of $4000 generally take a sanguine view of the government's role in providing for them. They understand that their jobs are somewhat tied to the economy but do not feel a constant insecurity that they would be laid-off because they are either educated (in white-collar jbs or professionals) and/or possess high mobility in terms of their skills and experience. They probably understand more economics than most of the PAP MPs and so are not susceptible to Doomsday scenarios about a government running the reserves to the ground. In fact, they would ask the more pertinent question of where the reserves had been put to use and what had become of them.

People who live in private housing and the large majority of singles that lives with their parents (in either HDB or private housing) do not care about whether they are going to get wet walking to the MRT station. With the hours they put in at work, they probably do not care if a new fitness park is built in their neighbourhood. They have no need for new lifts (these stop on every floor in newer HDB blocks anyway) nor do they appreciate that their building is going to be splashed with a new coat of godawful colours.

They do care about the value of their properties -- which has very little to do with the MP elected in their constituency -- and they do care about their ability to afford a property (private or HDB) should they require one when the time comes. This has a lot to do with the HDB's control of demand, supply and policies on sales, especially on the resale market. Again, it has little to do with the MP but on the Cabinet Minister, so this should resonate with the middle class if played right.

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What Do I Need?


Bedok Reservoir


The red arrow shows a soon-to-be completed private condominium estate on the banks of the surburban Bedok Reservoir. It smacks of middle class surburbia.  Ironically it is also part of Aljunied GRC.  The blue arrow points to the HDB flats next to the condos, ranging from four to five-room flats to maisonettes. What you do not see is that to the left of the picture is an entire belt of private condos stretching to the end of the reservoir and the edge of Tampines town.

Reason I pointed this out is because of a very entrenched mentality of "upgrading" or upward social mobility with yes, housing as the indicator of class mobility endemic in most aspiring Singaporeans. The government knows this, or perhaps they cultivated and exploited it to their advantage. If you lived in the HDB flats and you looked out your window every day, wouldn't you hope that one day you could buy a nice apartment in one of those condos as well? Nevermind that you still live in the same district and have the same public amenities (a metro line will run through the area come 2015) plus that gorgeous reservoir park. Upgrading means a step toward a "better life", so says the dominant ideology. The PAP has exploited this to effective use, as HDB prices skyrocketed and people pocketed handsome "profits" from the sale of their subsidsed flats, they plunged these profits into the private property market as their dream of living in private housing materialised.

But wait. These profits are now diminishing as prices of new HDB balloon  and the private property market continues to overheat. The Dream is becoming out of reach and not just for upgraders, first time buyers are desperately seeing their ability to afford new flats vanishing. Their incomes have risen incrementally to exceed the $8000 qualifying ceiling for subsidised flats, a figure that was arrived at 20 years ago and has not changed. People are pissed off. And a lot of them are the middle class. The Opposition know this and have gone for the jugular. But the PAP seems to have woken up from a 20 year daze, stammering that housing is still "affordable". 

The other carrot that the middle class has no need for is the dubious idea of "asset enhancement". This is of course the promise of appreciating home prices which has become something of a bitter taste in people's mouths. Asset enhancment is essentially paper profits that mean dick unless one sells one's flat. This idea only holds merit if the said owner has no need of a home after selling it. Given that HDB's original raison d'etre was to provide shelter for citizens, it's really illogical and irresponsible to sell people paper-profits unless the HDB intends for people to "downgrade" as opposed to upgrading. What do I do with my HDB flat which has appreciated $250K on paper? Take the $200K or so (after fees and mortgage interest) and put it down for a $700K private condo which is 60% the size of my previous home?

If the upgrading dream is what the PAP is selling, what about those who cannot even get on the bandwagon because they cannot qualify for the subsidised housing, nor can they afford the flats on the open market? This frustration I believe, has not hit breakpoint because it is tempered by rational choice. People who cannot afford to own their own homes have simply pushed back plans for marriage (typically tied to home ownership) and childbirth until they have attained an income level deemed sufficient for home ownership.  This is a latent frustration, but if tapped properly, can swing the voter over.

I do not believe the foreigner issue would matter much to the middle class as they more or less benefit from the presence of MNCs and TNCs than not. The working class face the most difficulties from the wage depression caused by cheap foreign labour and low productivity. So what else can swing them over?

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The Idea of A More Equitable Society

The WP has been selling such an idea. A First World Parliament connotes not only the vision of a robust democracy and true debate on national issues before they become policy, it suggests that such a scenario could bring about better policy-making that could improve lives. It is a bold statement, but it holds appeal for the middle class voter whose dormant political and civic self has the capability of appreciating.

Whether the ruling party knows it or not (I go for not, since the highbrowed and highminded elites rarely have a good grasp of reality) the middle class is not entirely self-centred and incapable of empathy.  Volunteerism in many societies is highest among the middle class and so is civil activism and civic consciousness. The middle class is aware of the less fortunate classes and it is not farfetched to think that they would not appreciate a more equitable resource distribution. Only the most severe of rational choice believers buy into the low taxation idea.

I for one would pay higher taxes if my wages increased as well. This means productivity has to increase and we have not managed this in a while -- how's -14% for you sound? What's the use of 14% economic growth when wages stagnate and inflation climbs year on year?  Oh, we have our paper profits on our homes, I forgot.

I would go for more equitable distribution so that everyone gets healthcare and an education that does not penalise the poor. This makes me feel like I live in a decent society and not guilty about all that I have and the time I do not have to volunteer at old age homes and the money I do not wish to donate to organisations that need to take a cut to manage the social problems that the government refuses to spend on.

I would go for lower GDP if it means higher productivity and better quality of life so that people would have more children and the reliance on foreign labour would ease up. I would pay more for goods and services if it means that Singaporeans are hired to do provide these and not some cheaper person from the third world.

I would buy these ideas, and I reckon my fellow Quadrant D voters would buy these ideas too. It is the only wise choice to make. We do not live in the Third World anymore, and neither do we live like the third world. It's time to appeal to the First World nature in all of us and may the party that manages to do this successfully in 2016 win.

Pregnancy Week 39: Polling Day

Today is 7 May, Polling Day.  At 8am I waddled to my assigned Polling Station to cast my ballot for the third time since I turned 21 years old.  There were already neatly-formed queues. I asked one of the polling officers if I could go first, since I was packing 71 kilos and it was obvious I could pop any minute. She directed me to queue A2 (my assigned "sector") and said it was rather short compared with the others. I frowned but joined the queue. Polling hadn't commenced yet, and fidgeted a little, wondering how long this would take before my legs gave out. Daniel was in the car parked nearby the void deck.

The queues (three or four in all) were comprised mostly of middle aged and older folk. A small family arrived and stood behind me. Shortly after, some guy who looked like he had some say in the proceedings came along and directed the first three people in each queue to proceed to the voting area (with more queues and where you wait your turn to get a ballot paper).  I counted the people in front of me, it would be another two rounds before my turn. So I raised my hand and approached the Tubby Guy who seemed in charge.

Me: Excuse me, could I please go first? I can't stand for too long (pointed at my stomache).

Tubby Guy: (looks confused and uncertain) Erm, why don't you go join that queue (points at my own queue).

Me: No, I am from A2 and it's the shortest queue but I'm going to give birth any minute, so.....

Tubby Guy: You have to ask the lady over there (I think he meant the helpers whom i already spoke to)....

At this point, the people in A3 were looking over and an uncle, you know the vocal kind with a lot to say about everything) said to me:

Vocal Uncle: Hey, you come and take my place lah. (to Tubby Guy) She is so pregnant!

The Tubby Guy who seemed completely incompetent did not know what to do.

Vocal Uncle: (to me) You better sit down lah. (to TG) Better give her a wheelchair or seat lah!

Then the lady at the head of my A2 queue said to me:

Nice lady: Why don't you take my place?

Me: (smiling) Thank you.

Tubby Guy: Are you sure?

Nice lady: Yes of course.

Me: (Stood in front of the queue) Thanks very much!

At this point, a woman hustled up to TG brandishing her ticket itinerary and said:

Woman: Can I go first? I am flying to America at 8.30am, this is my ticket.....

Uncle: Wah! How can you cut queue?

Woman: I need to go first, cos I have to fly at 8.30!

More uncles pipe up: She's pregnant so can go first, you how can? Come early and queue lah!

I don't know how Tubby Guy managed that situation (which was more dicey than mine really) as it was my turn to go into the ballot area. I chit-chatted briefly with the Nice Lady behind me, telling her I was 39 weeks along and she nodded sympathetically. "Your baby wants you to vote before giving birth!"  At this point, there is another small commotion in the A3 queue next to us as Vocal Uncle has spied the woman (with the 8.30 flight to America) cutting ahead of him.  He demanded from the polling officer why she could go first.

Hapless Polling Officer: That is the Express Queue sir.

Vocal Uncle: What, fly to America can cut queue? I have to go Chinatown later, can cut or not!! (and more disgruntlement) You people are just like the PAP! Anyhow do things one!

It was my turn and I didn't hear any more. It was hilarious. I ambled over to let them check my identity card. I got my ballot slip and moved to the spot where you vote. As I looked down at my ballot slip, I hesitated.  Then I saw TPL's name and all doubt vanished from my mind. I marked my cross and folded up the slip, dropping it into the brown box labelled A2* before leaving.

Later, I texted my sister, apparantly, she had gone to vote too. She is going to Bintan today and had decided at first not to vote.  But she had changed her ferry to a later one and had gone with my parents to vote in their ward, Joo Chiat. I was heartened, looks like my repeated entreating for her to do it because "every vote counts" had worked.

This is going to be the mother of all elections not only because a record 2.2 million are eligible to cast a ballot today. Its significance is different for everyone, depending on which group they belong to, socially and economically and because of the different values and interests that different groups and individuals espouse. I can tell you for my parents who live in middle-class Joo Chiat, being pensioned retirees and not wont of any neighbourhood amenity or trivial hokey like "lift upgrading", there is nothing much in terms of carrots that the PAP can offer them, not any threat of withholding anything if they were to vote WP. So ironically enough, it boiled down to whether the PAP candidate would "come knocking on our door to ask for our support". Too bad for Charles Chong, he not only forgot to pay my parents (hitherto ardent Chan Soo Sen** supporters) a visit, my mother spied him doing housecalls at the four HDB blocks nearby and totally missing her building which was 150 metres away.  Charles Chong should have thought hard about traditionally pro-PAP people like my parents, who have voted PAP the last 30 years but who have had a daughter giving them a more realistic view of the Other Side, sending them links to online news sites and reminding them that the vote is secret for the past 5 years. There is a grassroots alright, but it is the private youth grassroots that foments right in the living rooms of the critical swing-voting middle class that the PAP have not considered in their current political strategy (which doesn't exist).

For me, my son is going to be born a Singaporean and will serve National Service in 18 years. I have a responsibility to make a choice according to my convictions, and I am convinced that our country needs to go in a direction that will give my kid a better future, and a future worth sacrificing 2 years of his life for.

For me, the choice is clear.

*Different districts are grouped into sectors that are reflected on the ballot paper - such as A1, A2 and so on. When you cast your ballot it goes into the respective ballot box as well. This is a rather partisan way of coordinating the balloting, since all ballots can go into unlabelled boxes once people have voted. This method allows the PAP to do a guesstimate of how certain sectors had voted after counting is concluded, and this has a large part to do, I am sure, with why certain sectors are eventually carved out of their original constituencies and lumped into another one. For instance, this time, a whole sector of Hougang SMC (guesstimated to have voted largely WP in 2006) was carved out to form Ang Mo Kio GRC, a PAP stronghold.  

** Chan Soo Sen was the former MP of Joo Chiat SMC. He had served several terms and had been re-elected by popular mandate each time. He was put out to pasture this year and replaced by the smug-faced but relatively unknown- to-Joo Chiat ,Charles Chong.