Meet our infant son, baby Rae

Finally, a baby has entered our home. His name is JiaRae. Nicknamed RaeRae. But grandma's favorite is Rae Jai.

My private moment with my 2-weeks-old son

2-minutes-old Baby Rae straight out of the womb and out of the delivery theatre. Born preterm at week 36, but fortunately his wails told us he was fully matured, and healthy at 3kg.

1-hour-old Baby Rae cleaned and swaddled. And in mommy's favorite kitty cap.

1-week-old Baby Rae being burped by Dino dad. Baby's eyes are opened but not seeing, though miraculously his eyes met the camera.

Now at 19-days-old, RaeRae's features are more profound and distinctive. Boy! Isn't he a handsome baby?

"Dear Raerae, with your arrival, mommy and daddy can close the trying-to-conceive chapter of our lives, simply because our twenty-four-sevens are dedicated to answering your wails, changing nappy, burping you, bathing you, and when you are deeply asleep, we watched endearingly with hearts so filled, and warm, we no longer feel the void existed."

And to all who have been following this blog, thank you for reading. I hope the best to you all.

Signing off,

Dino mom

Final farewell to baby xiao lung lung

For the 3rd time i requested Dr to ultrasound - before being pushed into the operation theatre - to make sure my baby was really demised. And there the beannie stayed, dark and motionless, despite dire prayers and mountain-willful of mental power to will life back to my tiny beannie. I consented the Therapeutic D&C procedure and closed my eyes to close this short-lived chapter of bliss.

when i opened my eyes again

i listened to my own heartbeat

reminded me of the first time daddy and i saw the flicker of your heartbeat on the black & white screen

soundless, blurry, but unmistakenly alive and perpetually beating

now i sat quietly reminiscing

not wanting anyone interrupting

hurdling together in the strongest embrace

yet can’t fight loosing you from our fate

inside, emotions were rioting

yet there was no words to explain

time has morphed into unrelenting slitting grief

stopping me to remember the short-lived bliss

tearing forcefully at our mutual dependency

on the day you left my womb at week 8

felt like i was blowing out my last breath

like i felt so much wanting to alight to the sky

to capture you back and tell you everything’s all right

but strength failed us as daddy and I are a wreck

holding blindly to your ultrasound prints like pieces of rag

now i sat quietly pondering

admist searching for a sliver of knowing what took you from me

restropecting the folds of my careless sights

did i not eat proper and care for you right?

grandmother blamed my trip to india a fortnight ago was not right

mother-in-law blamed my neighbor's construction work came the wrong time

or haven’t i the right to deserve you in my life?

but known that i won’t find the answer forthcoming

cause the doctor himself knew not a thing

now i sat quietly, steeling up to after i faced the cold spade on Thursday

thinking to keep you, my eight-weeks-old beannie, inside me more days

so i could still call myself pregnant every day though you’re dead

now i sat quietly choking back fire tears that’s not mean to cry

more like galled, acidic shoutouts to all Almighty in the sky

asking what right have you to rip me of what’s mine

we have never once seen your work of miracles in our life

so from now on gods will just be a lie

now i sat quietly, looking, but seeing nothing

as the anesthetic separating us permanently fast ticking

forcing me out of oblivion to face a brand new struggle

what’s new, when the same has been repeatable

only rehashing and refueling my passionate anger

erupting bitterness when crossing path with expectant mothers

heart catching fire when friends pop their bundle of joy

only to make my therapist richer

now i sat quietly, thinking when will my sky lift its curtain?

This will be my last post on this blog. The time has come for me to call it quit. To end this struggle of 5 years. Enough money's been splashed on a project that gave no returns, but sorrow and misery. And we are too tired.

There must be a better life calling ahead, one that is going to need hubby and i contributing in ways that we can give as an independent and strong childless couple. I am hopeful to see that road when i eventually lift the veil of this grieving period.

WE SAW OUR BABY FOR THE FIRST TIME!

WE SAW OUR BABY!

WE SAW OUR BABY!

WE SAW BABY'S HEARTBEAT! B

BEATING STRONG!

AND BABY IS 6W-2D-OLD!

FINALLY!!!! THE BABY'S HERE!!!

WE ARE EUPHORIC; TOO HAPPY TO CRY

Corgie passed away

The cutest dog in the Dino household, Corgie, has passed away sometime at dawn of Oct 7, 2011.

Dino dad and i almost got heart arrest to discover her motionless lying by the wall of the patio table, her tongue black and dropped out of her gaped mouth; her eyes were not even closed.

The night before she had been spotted with palpable enlarged stomach. She wouldn't eat her dinner - the first time. We knew something was very wrong. We even decided to rush her to the vet early next morning for scan. But she didn't last the night.

Vet suggested she died of GDV (Gastric dilatation-volvulus), also known as 'twisted stomach'. We've always prided ourselves the better pet owners who are quite knowledgable in dog-cat medical and behavior studies. But when it came to Corgie's case, we were acting like idiots, not having a clue of the sight of Corgie's condition in the last few hours before she died.

Another possibility the vet had suggested was heart attack. Last moment, i'd decided to call off the post-mortem, thinking whatever that had took her life must be either if these two possibilities.

Corgie has never had any health problem since the first year she came to our house through a friend who had caught her wandering in the street heedlessly. She was estimated to be no more than 1 year old when she entered our life: white, short, fluffy and her signature round brown patch on her white back. we even nicknamed her 'Japanese piggy'. Our neighbor also thought her breed is 'pig-dog' (猪仔狗). Hilarious, but adorable.

The first six months after her arrival, our house turned into a huge green cage, literally. She was peak on heat, trying everything to climb out through every little inch of chance she spotted. She would even pull out the nail on the wall using her nose and mouth so the plastic fence - we've erected temporary after discovering her outside the house when we got home from work one day - be wide enough for her to slip out. Through out her heat, there were at least 3 incidents, through ways we were still baffled until today how she'd did it, she was found outside wandering, so the security guard had informed us. Smart, wasn't she?

She was very intelligent. Perhaps the previous owner had had trained her - a pure breed corgi couldn't have been born stray - she responded to training very well. As mentioned in her breed guide, she had attentive eyes to owners - the one-owner type. So caring for you is most easy, though we had a little challenge in changing her one-dog-alpha mentally when she met our other older dogs Pepsi and Beagle, that are double her size. Plus, she loved picking at her food, throwing out foods which were less favorable and making her eating place messy with. And she loved attacking the cats' food bowl when we turned our backs.

So, her face was always a picture of sunny day, that sweetest smiling face when panting (she always panted), big bat years fronting and super super fast feet during jogging time.

6 years on, all bad habits had been successful changed and she'd recognized her fourth place in Dino's hierarchy of dominance, everything went well except her hyperactive trait. Too active, in fact. Every action was always an excitement; fast and snappy and lightning speed. Even waking from her sleep was like a spring. Truly justified her ancestral lineage of a hunting breed. We told ourselves that we must be prepared one day she might collapse with an heart attack when she gets older.

This year her left hind leg started limping occasionally. We thought a few things: hip dysplasia, prolapse disc (prone to long bodies dog) and long nail growth that made jogging uncomfortable. Only recent month she slowed a lot during jog time, even totally stopped to rest mid way. Concerned, we decided to bring her to vet for a whole full body checkup. Plus to clean her teeth.

One thing about Corgi, respite an A+ doggie, was her reluctance to let a fourth person - after me, Dino dad and my older sister - approach. So, vet always has an issue coming near her. Vaccination day was always quite a drama. On the morning of Oct 7, we took her to her vet. As usual, she struggled like hell in Dino dad's arm. Because this time the doc needed to test her knee cap, Corgie was muzzled and clamped down. Now thinking back, she might have struggled too assertively (almost 5 minutes). After coming home, she was seen fine the whole afternoon. Only started to shun food and breathing hard and drink quite often during night time.

We could see she wasn't comfortable that night - and stupid us didn't come across it to be the onset of heart attack of GDV. We even ruled in kidney failure - so Dino dad stayed up with her on the couch till 1am, all the time resolute to bring her to vet first thing the next morning.

Corgie didn't last the night. While slept, she breathed her last breath downstairs. She might have whined, but i think it was better we didn't see her go. Because it would be devastating for us, being helpless in the middle of night in a country where animal emergency care was not an option; in a Muslim country where dogs have no place.

Corgie weighted only 8kg when we sent her off for cremation. She used to weigh 10kg; she was only 6kg when we first took her in - the same weigh as our biggest tuxedo cat, Dharma. Today, her urn has been buried under the tree across our house, where she'd liked to wee wee whenever we let her out supervised.

Her sudden death devastated us momentarily. But we were surprised we could recoup fast - though each memory and photo of her brings tear to our eyes. We are thinking maybe we haven't pulled the plug, liked we did to our 'big fella' Beagle - lost his tail bone to bone cancer in just two months and Coffee, the big wolfie golden Husky-like dog, in her fight with bladder cancer. Throughout our lives, we have pulled the plugs of quite a number of strays we've rescued and had no chance of survival. Each time that happen, confusing emotion - did we did the right thing tumult - would plague for months. For Corgie's case, she passed on herself and the duration was only an overnight. She might have suffered the last few hours, the consolation is that death came quick, unlike Beagle and Coffee.

Also maybe we have reached a junction in life we are feeling tired of keeping pets. We have cared for over 20 cats (died and still living) and 8 or 9 dogs (some managed to rehome). With Corgie's deceased, Pepsi, our 14-year-old mongrel, is the last surviving 'daughter' in the house. We've seen and cried over and buried too many deaths. I think it is time we take a breather. Which also means sorry to the future dogs and cats, if they happen to cross our path, as we won't be helping them much. We've decided long ago that the best we would be doing is to rehome them or to hand over to NGOs.

I still cannot face my friend's newborn

Through my facebook, I've learned my friend has finally given birth to her first baby a month ago. The baby girl is celebrating her full moon now. The newborn is perfect in every way a baby should be: fair, pinkish, chubby, bright eyes - and a full crown. Maybe takes on from mommy.

What is it to me? Simple. She's a friend i've known for over 10 years. She lives two rows from my house. If my first-ever-pregnancy hadn't been an ectopic, mine would be just a week behind her daughter's full moon. And i still cannot bring myself to walk over her house to congratulate her personally. That's the deal.

So i've chickened out and wished her through facebook instead; blending in among her many facebook friends. But i stay so near her house and yet i hide behind an electronic message.

For days i've contemplated: to go over or not to go. At one time, i'd got up and said, "Die, die la. Just go over and stay for 5-minutes" and derive an excuse of phantom appointment with other friends and then leave. Easy right? Just didn't happen. Couldn't get my feet into my shoes and stepped out the gate.

In my mind i was afraid of emotional turmoil the moment i set my sight on the little pink mittens waiving in mid air rocking in her little bouncer. Oh hell, of course i don't want to show my weakness outside the safety of my own home. I mean who'd care if this woman had lost her only successful concept to an ectopic; who'd care if this woman had been struggling with unexplained infertility for 3 years; who'd care if this woman has failed her therapy with the counselor. There are countless women outside my self-absorbed world who can conceived as easily as cracking open a peanut and manage children with career as easily as putting a car out of the porch to the nearest hypermarket.

My counselor has told me my decision to stay away from this new-mom-girlfriend is validated. She said it is okay for me if i am not ready to meet the newborn. Told me to ignore people's thinking i'm rude for not visiting when it's just 2 rows from my house.

But i am a high disciplined person. I champion people with good manners. I encourage younger people to be conscious of other people's welfare. I even intend to teach my god-son (my nephew), when he's a little older, what proper good-human ethics should be. Considering all that, i have not do the simplest manner by dragging my ass over to my friend's house for a simple 'Congratulation! You are now a proud mommy of a beautiful princess'.

I am so torn. I've told myself to stay away from pregnant people as long as i haven't strength my psychology against this issue. I have set my mental GPS to stir clear of pregnant people's path - even moms' path - in my radar, unless the pregnant woman or new mom has something beneficial to share with me like some medical stuff she'd tried that had contributed this successful pregnancy or that stuff she ate, or that doctor she'd seen or even that sex pattern she'd attempted. Or simply to share some real time hearing my grieve if she'd willing. Otherwise, i definitely live better without forcing myself to pretend 'ahh, how nice' or 'how exciting you're pregnant' or 'you're glowing' other shit stuffs like that that come out of my horned sales-mouth while my heart constricting the whole time.

Few days back, when i read about Guliana Rancic has been diagnosed with early stage breast cancer a few days before she was scheduled for her third IVF attempt, i felt a little relieve. Dammit! I am really sick, am i? Though i feel sad for her as i do feel what she's going through with a few failed IUIs and 2 IVFs - that's my journey too - but i can't help feeling i didn't want her to conceive before me. I am really sick. Yes, i am.

On the other hand, i also feel relieve and appreciating the fact that i do not have any cancerous issue after my two IVFs. It is a universe fact that the hormones jabs they pump into your body to boost egg numbers and quality do escalate malignant cells if they have been dormant all this while. (Quietly, i am counting my blessing. A recent breast scan declared my breasts are free from anything that the ultrasound could pick up. Phew! I must have done something right in my past life to earn this.)

Still, I think i need to go back to my therapist, and bury myself in my tracking on my estradiol, FSH and TSH levels. Tracking these numbers make me feel i am in control of my TTC condition, rather just stay and wait for baby to drop from the sky.

Little la-bi-xiao-xin (crayon kid)

Baby nephew and his mom

Yesterday, Yahoo reported Beyonce showed off her baby bump.

Last week, Marion Canter announced she's five-month pregnant.

And one of my old time girlfriend will be birthing her first baby - a girl - in earth september.

How do i feel now? Sour, of course. Apparently, my chance of counseling with my psychology lecturer two weeks ago didn't do magic to my heart problem.

Good thing is, i have my little nephew to lift my mood. Baby nephew - i nicknamed him la bi xiao xin (crayon kid) - is now one-and-a-half years old and he has grown into a friendly little cuttie. Though at times, he can be quite a little clingy devil - being firstborn 3rd generation in my whole family and getting overloading shower of affection and pampering - his two-teeth smile soothes the ache in my heart each time he responses to his 'crazy aunt' play.

Little nephew was born on the same day i lost my 2nd set of IVF triplets. He became a significance to my infertility struggle - yes, seeing him always reminds me the pain the day i held tissues of miscarriage on a piece of toilet paper on my hand - but because he is a family, i get to love him as close as like my own while i take indulge in healing 'with time'. If he's a friend's, like in the current case of my soon-moher-be-girlfriend whose baby was conceived a week apart from my ectopic pregnancy, the significance would become averse. Like how i'm trying to dodge bumping into her during my evening run with my dogs, like how i react irrational when conversation with other friends linked to her, like how i am plotting how to just ignore calling to congratulate her after she dues in coming early september.

I know, i have become a pervert. Neurotic one at that, you might add - i don't mind.

But little nephew lives far down south. We only meet like two to three times a year. After this round, the next time i meet him he would be more aware of his surrounding and then maybe he would forget this 'crazy aunty' completely clean. Well, baby grows, and boy, they grows fast.

Hate to admit - but got to admit - i can be only cured of delirium the day i have my own baby dino either through birth or adoption.

I'd had Laparoscopic Salpingostomy

Good thing that i had had insisted on it. And it was a good thing that i had listened to Dino dad for his decision to go for surgery.

Because, any later would have resulted me to not save my left tube.

My left tube is saved, matter-factly. Doc had written such in my insurance claim form.

Dr was able to save my tube because the sac was still smaller than 2cm and it was implanted near the far end of my left tube. (How i'd wished the sac had swam a bit more to reach my womb....aiiiiiiiiiii)

Now when the storm cloud is beginning to clear, i think i should, at the least, be thankful that i still have my left tube intact.