A huge burden was lifted off my face recently and boy was I glad.

Ever since I found out that fatherhood was imminent nine months ago, my wife challenged me. "Why don't you stop shaving for the entire length of my pregnancy?"

Challenge accepted.

I thought at that time it was only fair, you know, to grow something together with my wife for the next nine months. Think of it as a sign of solidarity, I coerced myself. What could possibly be so tough than carrying a 10kg load? Why not do a little something for the wife and kid? So I shaved and started off with the cleanest slate possible.

The journey to full hirsuteness, as I found out, was similar to the three trimesters of pregnancy. And yes, the best period was during the second trimester.

The First Trimester

Ah, the pains of growing the facial hair out was quite jarring. I started off fine. I loved the five o'clock shadow look but it was soon a minute too close to the witching hour: I looked like a wandering spirit. The moustache wasn't quite long enough and you ran the risk of looking like you lost some big money at Marina Bay Sands.

While most women are sickened by morning sickness (my wife was spared the agony) during the first trimester, I was just plain sick of my non-existent, un-Baey Yam Keng stache.

The Second Trimester

The second trimester is generally a good time for most women as it's considered the best time to do a baby moon (unfortunately, my wife didn't get to go on one. This is a story for another time) and the pregnancy has reached a stable stage. Likewise for me, my ambitious facial hair project has reached a certain degree of normalcy.

The moustache was long enough to be twirled and the beard could be tamed with a fine tooth comb. It was also during this period that I bestowed my facial hair the title of Ice Breaker; it could start a conversation anywhere, anytime.

Taxi driver: "Wow, you Chinese? (He had the notion that few Chinese guys are that hairy. I have no official stats but facial hair expert Sumiko Tan must be right) Nice beard! Like uncle's!"

Kopitiam auntie: "Boy ah, not nice lah. You look so old. You are only 25 right?" Thanks, auntie. I'm 31 this year.

My uncle: "Wah, what happened to you?"

My standard reply? "I'm keeping it for my wife," I said with a tinge of pride.

Strangers stopped talking to me in Mandarin which was weird, considering that dudes in ancient China looked like this:

And this:

My hirsuteness elicited quite a hilarious discussion on Facebook.

Twirling my stache, sipping a cuppa tea and looking every part like a born again hipster, I thought to myself: "What a wonderful world."

The third trimester

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

The third trimester proved to be tough for both mother and father. The kid got heavier and it was straining her back and me? The facial hair was out of control, growing in different lengths and direction. Remnants of what looked like chap chye png got stuck in the bush on a regular basis, resulting in the growth of painful zits. I had to wash my moustache after every meal and I came out of the bathroom looking like a wet dog every time.

Friends, family and colleagues grew sick of it. The Ice Breaker was officially broken.

The labour

My journey, though riddled with slight irritation on the face and some ridicule, was nothing compared to what my wife went through.

One very vivid memory of the labour was the usage of forceps. The moment I saw the monstrous forceps, it justified why we decided on the name Sarah, after the fictional character of Sarah Connor - the Mother of The Resistance against Skynet (I'm a Terminator fanboy). The meeting with the forceps was Sarah's first brush with the Terminators and we hope she will be strong and continue to fight for freedom.

Okay I'm digressing. To my wife, I salute your bravery and resilience.

Although she was on epidural (it's a godsend, according to her), she is now feeling the effects of the forceps assisted delivery. The pain lingers on but for me my burden was off  my face on Dec. 1, 2014, 12:56pm when a 3.59kg presence was plopped onto her battle weary body after 28 hours.

The pregnancy and Ice Breaker are now history. And we look forward to teach the daughter what it means to be human, the poo, the sleepless nights, the happiness, the sadness, the ups and downs, the trials and tribulations, stories of love and affection.

And of course, pregnancy and other hairy tales.

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